Rage

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Connor awoke the next morning to a lingering feeling of discomfort in his throat from having the external air intake line snaked down his throat to help him breathe, and from the painful blue bruises still over his throat and neck in general. Running a self diagnostic his system indicated that the damage to his air intake line had healed properly since his initial injury during the night, but the resulting inflammation of having his voice modulator (larynx) crushed and having an external line inserted down into his own line had left the back of his mouth and throat feeling raw and sore. Rubbing his hand over his sore throat Connor exited his bedroom and set about his usual morning routine before Hank woke up as well.

It was a minor inconvenience that Connor would be able to overcome in a few more hours. As long as he consumed some fresh Thirium then Connor's self healing program would be able to remedy the lingering discomfort.

"Su-"

Connor immediately winced and stopped speaking as his voice was still incredibly hoarse, and the simple act of speaking was enough to give his already sore throat a new flare of pain.

"...Ow."

Thinking quickly Connor instead patted the side of his leg to call the massive dog away from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom and into the kitchen to begin their morning routine together. Silently Connor rubbed at the obedient dog's ears and opened the backdoor to let him outside for a few minutes.

While Connor set about pouring fresh food and water into Sumo's bowls he caught the sound of Hank waking up and heading into the bathroom for his morning shower. Whether or not Connor would be able to accompany Hank to work had yet to be determined as his voice was still rough and he was obviously still in some pain.

Remembering what Hank had requested about lighter meals in favor of large ones Connor prepared just one egg and a piece of toast as the coffee brewed in the pot next to the stove. As Connor set the prepared breakfast plate down on the kitchen table Sumo scratched at the backdoor and Connor let the massive dog back inside.

"Good-"

Trying and failing yet again to speak Connor returned to petting the dog's ears to show his affection in a silent manner.

Frustrated with his lack of voice Connor went into his bedroom and slid open his closet door to get a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror mounted inside the small space. Lifting his chin Connor studied the fading blue bruises over his throat and found it odd that his voice hadn't returned as quickly as the technicians had informed him during the previous day.

The bathroom door opened again as Hank stepped outside and into the hallway as Connor discreetly slid the closet door closed again. "Morning, Connor." Hank greeted as he passed by the opened bedroom door to return to his own bedroom to change into his uniform. "How do you feel?"

"Good-" Connor again was stopped by the pain in his throat as his hoarse voice instantly caught Hank's attention, and not in a good way. "G-Good morning."

"Shit, kid." Hank returned to the opened doorway and gave the deviant a worried glance. "You sound horrible."

Patting his throat with his two right forefingers Connor nodded his head a little and approached Hank.

"You must feel horrible, too." The senior detective observed as he instinctively placed his hand over Connor's forehead to check for a fever, he knew the deviant's sore throat was from damage and not infection, but Hank couldn't stop himself from checking anyway. He quickly found Connor's temperature normal and dropped his hand from Connor's forehead. "Otherwise you wouldn't admit that your throat is sore right now."

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