Accident Prone - Becoming Human

Rumors

Though entirely unnecessary and a little uncomfortable, Connor allowed Hank to carry him inside the house through the front door and place him down on the couch in the livingroom to begin resting at home. The severity of the damage to his abdomen already made it difficult for Connor to breathe, let alone balance and properly support his own weight long enough to walk without help. Wrapping his damaged left arm around his abdomen Connor held his breath and resisted the urge to move around on his own as Hank placed him down on the couch to get some rest in the livingroom where he can be easily watched by his attentive father.

Sumo readily followed the two detectives over to the couch and watched as Connor was placed down on the furniture where he let out a mild groan of discomfort in the process. Sensing something was wrong Sumo nosed Connor's elbow and whimpered once sympathetically.

"I would be perfectly content with resting in my bedroom." Connor stated in a timid voice as Hank stepped back from the couch and looked down at him. "I doubt anything negative would befall me if I were to be left alone for a few minutes."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not going to take that chance. You're just a magnet for trouble."

"It's not my intention."

"I know that, and I'm not blaming you for anything." Sitting down on the edge of the coffee table beside the couch Hank gave the deviant a bemused smirk. "I just wish I knew how to help you get better faster."

"It's okay and I'm not in any pain."

"Bullshit. Your entire right side was destroyed and your left hand is still busted. You can't tell me you aren't even a little sore from that."

"...Perhaps I am." Admitting he was still feeling a little uncomfortable Connor tried to brush it off as if it were nothing more than a passing cold. "But only marginally so."

"I knew it. Look, son," Hank leaned back a little and ran his right hand over his bearded chin with deep thought. "things are going to get pretty damn hectic downtown for a while. Normally we'd be the ones to deal with it, but since we're too close to this little problem..."

"I understand. We cannot get involved in order to prevent a preconceived bias."

"Yup. You got it."

Squaring his jaw a little Connor gave the exhausted senior detective a curious glance as he ran a self diagnostic on his system. "May I ask how I was rebooted despite suffering from prolonged intracranial overheating?"

"Well, like I told you earlier, that microprocessor you took from CyberLife came in handy."

Connor's soulful brown eyes went wide with a sense of dread as he realized he hadn't seen the microprocessor since he regained consciousness. "...Where is it now?"

"Abby still has it."

"Good." Relaxing a little Connor let out a small sigh of relief through his nose. "She can be trusted."

"Kid, do I want to know why a copy of your brain was tucked inside that little box?"

"It's a long story." Connor turned away from Hank's face and stared at the wall behind him instead. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's okay. I'm too tired to pay attention anyway." Patting Connor's knee Hank stood up from the couch and proceeded to make his way down the hallway and opened up the closet. Retrieving the dark navy blue blanket and a large pillow from the shelf he returned to the couch and helped Connor lay in a more comfortable position on his back. "You won't need your bandages changed for another three hours, so I'm going to get a little sleep until then."