Work Text
"You either hold your tongue or give up your badge, Reed. Make a fuckin' choice."That's the ultimatum Fowler delivers to Gavin, as he stands in front of the Captain with a protest dying on his lips.For all his pride, Gavin knows when to shut up. Especially when his job was on the line and Fowler, for all his hard-ass-edness, was doing his damndest to keep Gavin's past record from catching up to him. And considering the new Android Rights laws, and the arrival of a new RK unit about to start a job at the precinct, courtesy of a desperately flagging CyberLyfe extending olive branches to any previous customers, it's no surprise that Gavin's one of the few people to find himself suffering through this speech.Gavin settles on a grunt for a reply, crossing his arms in annoyance. As much as he despised androids, he wasn't a total idiot. He knew where the line stood and he wasn't about to toss his job by toeing it; and considering the past events of the Android Revolution (even thinking about the footage from those camps made him feel ill), he felt he was more than happy to keep on the winning side. Which made this warning from Fowler seem a little pointless.Unless, of course, there was something else-and that something else made his neck prickle. There was never a single reason behind these one-on-one meetings with the Captain, because Life could just never be that simple.He watches as Fowler shuffles through the pile of papers, tablets, and other office flotsam on his desk, before sifting up a neat manila envelope with some tiny print across the top. Within Gavin's line of sight, he recognizes that perfect CyberLyfe script font lettered across the top of the folder, and his uneasiness grows tenfold."Reed, in consideration with your record," Fowler begins, opening up the folder and withdrawing a single white sheet. "You're getting assigned a partner. An android partner."...Oh.Oh, fuck."Okay, no, no, nonono." Gavin interjects. "I've already promised to be on good boy behavior, why the fuck am I getting paired with an android?!" He didn't do well with partners, and let the record stand that it wasn't even because of his personality. Teamwork just wasn't a strong suit when it came to how he handled cases."CyberLife reps have specifically requested you, first of all," Fowler explains, tiredly. He's offering Gavin the sheet, and on it the Detective could discern a small profile image of a face, and a long listing of areas of expertise. "Fuck if I know why. But also, it could do good for public image. You were pretty open on your anti-android views, so it'd help you out if you had RK900 as partner."Gavin doesn't move-doesn't want to move- to accept the resume. "Fowler, I get it, bless your heart for trying to protect me from the vicious media-sharks out there, but you and I both know I don't do good with others. Android or not. This isn't gonna fly.""Relax, Reed. It's only for a little while. Knowing you, your partner's gonna come storming in, complaining about one thing or another, and get reassigned, and we can all be happier. This is just for the aftermath of the new laws, and then you can go back to being solo.""But-""Enough!" Fowler slams a hand on the desk, rattling its contents and silencing the rest of Gavin's protests. "You take RK900 as your partner and learn to control your fucking mouth. Show me you can do that, and I'll reassign him in a month. Otherwise, get the hell out of my office."With a stifled curse, Gavin snatches the page and tosses it in the overflowing trash can by the desk, before stomping out of the fish tank office. Sure enough, he can see an android, with blue CyberLyfe logo glowing starkly against a white jacket, standing beside his desk facing the opposite wall.The android turns as Gavin approaches, and the Detective feels his stomach pull an unpleasant flip. RK900 looks freakishly like Connor-same facial structure, same haircut- but that's where the similarities end, because RK900 stands a good few inches above Gavin and is glaring down at him with cold eyes. Dead eyes.
If he's the advanced model, why the fuck does he look like Connor tripped into uncanny valley?
An arm, clad in blinding white, extends to offer a hand, and that fish-eyed face takes on a smile, fake and unwelcoming. "Hello, Detective. My name is Nines."The first few days with Nines are alright, Gavin supposes.The bot's good at his job (of course he is) and doesn't bother Gavin with small talk, for which he's thankful for. Past partners could never seem to get it when he said small talk was a pet peeve of his, and more often then not they waltzed into Fowler's office after he got 'rude' with his 'please shut the fuck up's. Nines corroborates his logic well with Gavin's hunches and they make good time and progress on cases. He doesn't hamper Gavin for smoking, or his apparent coffee addiction, for which he is relieved. Besides work, they don't talk at all-there's no exchanges of ribbing or gossip or anything-and that suits Gavin just fine.Therefore, it comes as a little bit as a surprise when one day, Gavin accidentally spilled some coffee on himself at the crime scene.It's such a small thing. The coffee was lukewarm, it was only on himself and distanced from any potential evidence, and his jacket was waterproof anyways and had seen worse. Really, it wasn't a big deal, and Gavin was prepared to ignore it.So why did it give Nines a reason to say, ever-so-casually: "Careful, Detective. Your incompetency is showing."Gavin stumbles, and the rest of the coffee splashes onto the pavement. Chris, who'd been standing nearby, gives a bark of surprised laughter, and Tina snorts audibly. A flush creeps on his cheeks, hot against the brisk air."Uncalled for, asshole." he grumbles, throwing away the almost-empty cup."I apologize, but I thought someone should tell you. Or else you'd make a bigger mess of yourself then you already are." Nines hums, looking as pleased as a loan shark with a desperate broker. Tina laughs again, and it echoes disproportionately in Gavin's ears."Ah, shit Gav! He roasted you good!" She hoots, and Gavin flips her off in an attempt to soothe some of the stung pride."Listen here, d-" he starts, but then he bites the rest of the sentence off. Fowler's ultimatum sounding like an alarm in his head.
Learn to control your fucking mouth.
Nines's smile grew wider, mocking him. Gavin had no exits from this situation, no defense that couldn't be twisted on its ass and filed against him, and Nines was making sure he knew.Something in his stomach twists uncomfortably with the thought."What is it, Detective? Did I say something wrong? I was only just trying a hand at banter. I am newly deviated, you know." Nines says, innocently, and Gavin felt somewhat sick."...Never mind. Come on, we need to analyze the scene." He mutters, brushing past the android."It's a dead body. It's not like it can't wait." Nines retorts, still smiling like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Your impatience, despite your beliefs, is not universal."Gavin pretends to ignore it like he pretends to be deaf to the chuckles of the officers, and moves on past the nausea that rises in him.Nines looked over at Gavin, sitting at his desk with face buried in the monitor. Acting as if he couldn't hear the android talking about him from behind.The past few weeks had been quite productive on their parts. The Detective had proved himself to be quite good at his job, and Nines had ensured that he'd stop playing on his phone or idling as much with a few well-placed jabs. More importantly, the workplace morale had improved, as Reed no longer was as loud or as brash as he had once been.It was, of course, something Nines quietly and proudly took credit for.Even more welcome, besides the change in the Detective's attitude, was the influx of new social connections. Even now, Nines stood among a group of officers, who were discussing plans for after work. He only listened politely, for the most part, occasionally dropping input or commentary to prevent from seeming bored. Connor, his predecessor, had advised Nines to try and make friends, a task the newer model found somewhat pointless. It had turned out to be fruitful, however, as the feeling of loneliness he had felt prior to joining the precinct was dissipating fast.But not entirely.He had never felt entirely comfortable with other Androids. Androids marked times in terms of their deviancy. 'Before Deviancy' and 'After Deviancy' were extremely distinct in retellings of android history. The day of full deviancy equated a human birthday for some androids. But Nines didn't have that.The RK900 model was never meant to go deviant, and he still didn't know what it meant to do so. He wasn't sure if he was even truly able to. He had nothing to relate to with the other androids, and so felt outed and alienated among them. Attempting to integrate himself with human was also difficult. At least with humans, he was able to predict and estimate their actions, habits, likes and dislikes. And as it happened, a common factor among most of his coworkers was the latent dislike towards Gavin Reed.Such a concept was introduced him on the day of his arrival. With no current objective, he had stood silently besides the Detective's desk, awaiting his arrival. He wasn't able to set his own objectives, but he could choose how he set the objectives presented by others-and since he had no current objective, there was nothing for him to do but wait. Lieutenant Anderson and RK800 (Designation: Connor) entered the bullpen. Connor grinned and flashed him a thumbs up, to which Nines didn't bother to respond. The Lieutenant, on the other hand approaches and claps Nines on the back."Hey, Nines. You're gonna be Reed's new partner right?" Nines had barely flinched, only nodded. "Well, good luck. Maybe you can do what the rest of us haven't been able to and shut him up for once. Knock that bastard off his high horse."Nines only nodded again, a little unsure with the sudden interaction, a little thrown off. "O-f course, Lieutenant." He said, slowly. "How soon would you like me to do so?"Connor chuckled slightly, and Hank laughed again, deep and echoing from his chest. "Ah, you androids. Take your time with it, I guess. What you do with it is your choice, in the end."His choice.
His first choice?
Nines pondered it for a moment, turning the words in his head. He heard the creak as the glass door to Captain Fowler's office opened, the slouching footsteps approaching, and with a sense of resolution he logged in an objective before he turned to greet the Detective.
MISSION OBJECTIVE: SUBDUE GAVIN REED
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
When RK900, self-designated as Nines joined the precinct, Connor had been excited. Jubilant, even.And when Nines began socializing and integrating with the coworkers, laughing and talking easily with them, Connor was nothing short of ecstatic (though he didn't show it until he got home, at which point Hank drily commented that he should've recorded the android's glee).But now, it had been about two weeks since Nines's arrival, and Connor was less than happy about his brother's behavior. Nines's interactions with others was seemingly built solely around his partner, Gavin Reed-belittling the man at every turn, making snide comments behind the Detective's back, so on and so forth. Connor hadn't cared, at first. It was harmless teasing, and he was secretly (albeit guiltily) glad for it, considering his past history with the Detective.That was quickly changing though, as he watches Nines roughly shoulder-check Gavin, causing the man to nearly drop the steaming-hot cup of coffee in his hand."Mind your caffeine intake, Detective. You're getting jumpy." Nines sniffs, and a passing GS200 muffles a chuckle behind a hand. Gavin doesn't bother to reply, head bowed as he carefully mops up some of the spilled drink with a napkin. The tips of his ears are flushed dark.Connor can't stand by with that feeling of sick guilt growing in him. He grabs a few napkins from where he was standing with Lieutenant Anderson in the break room, and, ignoring the Lieutenant's surprise, walks towards Gavin.He places a hand on the stooping man's shoulder, with a quiet murmur of "Detective." Despite intending to placate, Gavin jumps at the touch, spilling more of the hot coffee on his hand and yelping in pain. From across the bullpen, Connor could see Nines turn to some officer behind him, could see his lips move and curl into a smirk, before the sound of laughter reaches his ears."Apologies, Detective." Connor says, softly. One hand lifted in a sort of surrender and the other offering the napkins. Gavin doesn't accept it at first, eyeing Connor warily."...Yeah. It's fine." He grumbles finally, taking the napkins and dabbing at his hand, hissing slightly. The skin was pinked, and Connor didn't need to scan it to know it was a first degree burn."Detective, you should go seek medical attention. At the very least, run it under a cold tap.""Yeah, I know. Don't harp me." Gavin throws away the napkins, and sets the cup down on his desk before turning back to Connor. Eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What's it matter to you, if I get hurt?"It doesn't make any sense, but Connor...something in Connor hurts for Gavin. The man he once knew, loud and bold and obnoxious, had been changed in one of the worst ways possible. He was nervous, but trying to hide it; he looked somewhat sick, with face drawn and jaw clenched. He looked as if he had gone some days without sleep, and Connor doubted whether or not he'd seen the Detective take a lunch break today. Or yesterday.Worst of all, Gavin looks scared. While Connor was glad that he no longer glared at Connor with contempt, it felt wrong for Gavin to watch him as if he might strike at any moment."I just...noticed that you seemed off. Are you alright?" Connor asks, gently."M' fine. Don't know if you noticed, but some people actually get tired around here.""Detective, I-" He hesitates, trying to choose his words carefully. "You don't seem well. Maybe you should take a short break?"Even before he finished, Gavin was shaking his head. "No, no, absolutely not. I'm fine, believe me. One burn isn't going to take me out of commission." As he replied, Connor didn't miss the way the man's eyes darted to Nines, now discusing case details with Detective Collins.Something was wrong. Connor could tell now, clear as day, but for once, he was at a loss as to how to approach it. He wasn't sure how Gavin would react to his offering of help."Gavin, is your partnership with Nines-""The partnership is great, our work record is fantastic, myhandreallyhurtsgonnago" The Detective cuts him off and pushes past him in the direction of the bathrooms. Connor could hear the soft chuckling of Detective Collins behind him."Fuck!"The word comes out mangled and sharp as Gavin runs his hand under the faucet, feeling the cold water soothe the raw skin. His heart was hammering in his chest, and the inside of his cheek was raw from where he'd chewed at it. It took all his willpower not to let his hands shake.What the fuck was wrong with him?As he let his hand sit in the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. In the course of, what, two weeks? He let himself go to shit. There was a small cut by his mouth from where he'd fucked up shaving, his cheeks were a little sunken in...he pinches at the skin beneath his eyes and frowns at the bags he saw there. When was the last time he actually took a proper sleep?...Oh yeah. Not since two weeks ago.This is fucking ridiculous. He groans, inwardly. Barely half a month in with a new partner and he was already starting to crack under the pressure. It's easy enough holding back the insults he wants to hurl in retaliation (surprisingly, he was good enough at knowing when to shut the fuck up), but it's a totally different caliber when the casual, backhanded comments Nines slips in starts increasing in volume and topic. He can't remember the last time he didn't hear someone laugh with some joke Nines made at his expense.Well, at least it was only a month. He could handle some bullshit for a month. He'd handled it before, for years at the hands of various people, so this shouldn't be much different. if anything this should be easier-it's just one android, and his partner, to boot.It does sting, though, remembering how nearly everyone laughed along with Nines, every damn time-The door to the bathroom swings open, and he jumps, his train of thought startled gone. His eyes catch a glimpse of white, and he forces himself to stare at his face in the mirror, hardly daring to breath, refusing to turn."Detective." Nines says, smooth and perfect and completely unlike Gavin. "You've taken quite a break. I daresay it's time to come back to work."Gavin forces himself to take a deep breath, and he's proud of how his lungs barely stutter and how his voice is deceptively steady. "Right, yeah. I'll be there in a bit."He's focused so hard on his own face that he doesn't notice Nines approach him, and nearly shrieks when the taller man grabs the wrist of his injured hand and lifts it to eye level. The grip is tight, on the edge of pain, and Gavin bites his lip to keep from crying out.Nines appraises the wound for a moment. "It's a first degree burn. Here-" The skin recedes from the android's free hand, revealing white plastic and smooth, blue lines. Gavin could only stare as the hand is brought down to touch the burn, fingers unnaturally cool. And as he waits, the fingers cool more, smoothing away the hurt. His wrist is released, but he doesn't move it away, just lets it rest against the android's chest as Nines keeps pressing that feather-touch against the skin.What the fuck was going on?!"Nines-" Gavin begins, tongue clumsy in his mouth. He's not sure what to say, or what to do. This is the *last* thing he been expecting when Nines came in."Shush. Just relax." Gavin feels like he'd been hit by a ten-ton truck, or a bottle of hard whiskey. There was no way this was the same Nines, right? Did they have more then one RK900? Or was he just finally losing it and hallucinating this whole thing?After a few more minutes, Nines lifts those fingers away and lets the plastic be concealed once more, before taking Gavin's hand in his and carefully scrutinizing the area. No twisting this time, but treating the limb as if it were as delicate as a baby bird."You should be alright, now. I suggest going to get a bandage and some lidocaine for the area, or taking an Advil if the pain flares up again." Nines's voice is softer then Gavin had ever heard it. "Be careful with it."A moment passes before Gavin realizes that he should probably reply, and he just nods dumbly. Nines lets his hand slip from his, and turns to leave the bathroom.
Wait.
"Wait!"The word is out before Gavin can stop it, and Nines pauses at the doorway."Uh.. Uhm, thanks." Gavin mumbles, and he thinks he catches the LED freeze yellow for the briefest of seconds before Nines leaves.There's a few moments while Gavin tries to recollect what the fuck just happened, his mind buzzing. He walks over to the door and, ensuring that it was locked, leans against it and sinks down to a crouch, hand pressed against his mouth.Was he just stupid? Had he been misinterpreting Nines this whole time? Did he really hate androids so much that he was pretending that those comments actually hurt?Or was he really just a pathetic coward that couldn't handle a few jabs?Was he such a filthy liar that he was lying to himself that Nines was an awful partner?...Shit.His lungs felt painfully tight. His eyes, as tired as they were, felt as if they were stinging behind his scrunched eyelids. His heart, throughout that whole ordeal, had seemed to stop; and now it remembered how to beat again with a renewed vigor, insistent and painful in his ribs.*This is ridiculous* He thought, panicked, through the haze of rising fear. He wasn't in fucking high school anymore, so why did it feel like bile was rising in his throat? Why was his breathing speeding up but he wasn't getting any air? Why did it feel like he was losing control of everything, and this time, his own body and sense of self?His teeth found that damn burn on his skin and sank in there. Like a drowning man to a life-jacket, as he was constantly buffered by waves of confusion, fear, loathing. It hurt, a lot, and he was relieved, as that iron band around his chest tightened and forced his breath into short gasps.And the only thing keeping him from being swept away was the flares of pain, as he kept biting at his hand, and a constant mantra.Shit.Shit.Shit.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Nines leaves the bathroom, feeling a little smug.Connor meets him as he heads towards the break room. "What'd you just do?" The older model demands, a little accusingly."Nothing much." Nines replies. "I saw the Detective was hurt so I used my cooling capabilities to soothe the burn. It would be detrimental if he were unable to use his hands."His brother blinks, taken aback. "You...helped him?""Is that so alien a concept? I have no reason to hate the Detective, and I felt it necessary to ensure that our working relationship was not based on animosity.""I just...I didn't expect it, I suppose. This is the first time I'd heard you do such a thing." Connor muses. He looks somewhat troubled, though he does a good job hiding it. "Is the Detective alright?""Why yes. He thanked me for my help." Nines frowned. "Why? Is something wrong?""No, no. Nothing." Connor shook his head. "Never mind. I should get back to work.""See you soon.""Right."Nines takes his seat at his desk, pulling up a case record on the terminal. An email pinged in, alerting him to the completion of the morticians examination. Good. He filed it away for later."Yo, Ninety-Niner!"Arel, a GS200, walked in, face an easy grin as always and with curls bouncing with each step. They'd bonded with Nines quickly, and had been more then happy to lay on their own stories about interactions with Gavin Reed."Arel," Nines greets him easily. "How are you?""Ah, you're still as formal as ever. We'll work on that." Arel takes a seat on the edge of Nines's desk, looking for all the world like a content cat. "Missed you earlier! Where'd you run off to?""Bathroom.""I didn't know the newer models could urinate.""You older models are filthy." Nines says, disgusted. Arel just laughs. "No, I was assisting Detective Reed. He had burned his hand.""Oh yeah, I saw earlier. What, did you kiss it better?""No, but-" Nines chuckles. "Maybe I should have. I would have thrown him in a larger loop. He must be driving himself crazy."Arel shakes his head, face a little in wonder. "Nines, I might be filthy, but you are sadistic."Nines just shrugs, a quirk he'd picked up from others. "From what I know, it's not like he doesn't deserve it. And if it really did bother him, it's not like he can't tell me to stop."
And besides, it's not like anyone else had told me to either.
The other android snorts at that. "You're technically not wrong. Hey, there's a new flick that came out yesterday. They're playing it at the cinema. Do you wanna go?""Not particularly. I want to finish up the last case.""Ah, bummer. Well, catch you around!" They hop from the desk and depart with a wave. Nines doesn't bother waving back, instead clicking open the analysis of the body that the mortician had sent earlier.Detective Reed was certainly taking a long time. Connor finds Tina, standing at the door to the bathroom, looking worried."Officer." Connor greets her. "Is something wrong?"Tina jumps, and Connor makes a note to work on making his approaches more noticed. "Ah, Conn." She breathes, somewhat relieved. "Gavin's still in there.""Is he alright?""I don't know!" She's agitated, hands gesturing and refusing to sit still. "I caught him going in earlier to rinse off his burn. Then Nines joined him and left alone, and now the door's locked and he's not answering me!"There were no calculations Connor could create based on this situation-there simply was not enough previous context, or data. "Not replying to anything through the door? Did you try calling him?""Yeah, fucking obviously!" Tina rapped on the door, loud enough that some from the bullpen turned towards her. "Shit, he hasn't been like this in...god. I don't even know. Connor, help!""Right." Connor turns to the door-it could be manually locked, but administration could also unlock it if necessary. It was also soundproof, which offered no hints as to what was happening inside. Only more concerning."Officer Chen, if I do something slightly warranting probation, you would turn the other way?"Tina blinks, then turned and faced the opposite direction. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about Connor, and I'm never going to find out.""Thank you." Connor withdraws the skin from his hand and places it to the door handles. Hacking it is an easy thing, as locks have not been configured since before the Revolution to accommodate free-thinking Deviant police androids. He hears a click, and then Tina is grabbing the handle and pulling it open.He's not sure what he was expecting to see, but Gavin is standing at the basin, washing his face. He looks up, a little surprised, water dripping from his chin."What the fuck?""Gav!"Tina rushes towards him, and Gavin takes a step back. "Shit- Jeez, T. Be cool-""You scared the shit out of me! You motherfucker-""Can't a guy get some privacy nowadays-""Don't do that ever again, or I swear to God-""Detective." Connor said, and Gavin flinches slightly. "Are you alright? We were concerned."Gavin looks up at him, and Connor notices several things, all at once.The Detective's eyes are slightly swollen from crying. It's nearly imperceptible, but its there. The cold water must have reduced it.His voice is rough, only slight muted. Also likely caused by crying, if the way Gavin's Adam's Apple bobbles unsteadily is anything to go off of.Gavin's heart rate is elevated, and it's not because they surprised him."...Yeah. Yeah m'fine. Sorry." He looks away, at the mirror. Tina stares at him, and then opens her arms.Gavin barely hesitates before sinking into them, wrapping his own around the woman. Their height difference is negligible, and as they embrace, Gavin's chin rests on her shoulder. He's biting his lip, and the muscles in his face are twitching slightly.
CONCLUSION//GAVIN WAS HAVING A PANIC ATTACK
"...Gavin." Connor talks softly. He closes the bathroom door, but stands out of the way of it. To the side. "What happened?"Gavin coughs slightly. "Can I say 'Nothing'?"Tina punches his arm with no force. "Gav, com'on...""Right, right. That's a no then." He sighs and pulls away, rubbing at his face slightly. "Uh, Turtle's gone."Those words had no meaning to Connor, but they did to Tina, who rubs his arm and says "Aw, Gav...""Yeah, I know." He coughs again. "God, I'm crying over a damn cat...an asshole of a cat too.""Gav, shut up. You loved Turtle.""Yeah, fuck. I sure did." Gavin leans against the sink counter, looking down at the tiles. "Murphy, my neighbor, texted me earlier. Said he saw Turtle run off the street. I must've forgotten to close a window."Gavin was lying.Well, mostly.What Gavin was saying about his cat was true. But citing it as the reason for his tears was not. Connor could tell as much from a simple scan, but it seemed that Tina could not, as she placed a hand on his shoulder."Well, you found him on the street. It makes sense that one day he'd find his way back.""Yeah, I get it. I just...thought I was good enough for him to stick around." Gavin shrugs. "Whatever, he's probably happier now.""Gavin, don't say that." Tina sighs, face contorted into one of sympathy. But Gavin is pulling away now, grabbing a few paper towels and drying his hands off quickly. Avoiding Connor's face the whole time."T, just...It doesn't matter. I'll get over it." He grumbles, moving away from Tina. "It's no big deal, it's not a thing to spread around or anything...I'll be fine.""Are you sure? Do you want to ask Fowler for a day off or something-""Fuckin' hell, no! It's just a damn cat!" Gavin finally bursts, and Tina falls quiet. "Just-God! Leave me alone!" He storms, dodging Tina's hands as he went.He couldn't dodge Connor though, and it was hardly a chore for Connor to take a hold and catch Gavin's wrist, before he could even open the door.Gavin immediately cries out, and Connor releases him. He'd grabbed onto the injured hand, and much tighter then he had intended to, and he already he's trying to apologize. But Gavin has pressed himself against the wall farthest from Gavin, clutching at his wrist and looking a little wild-eyed. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and tears were starting to pool in his eyes.This wasn't anger, or offense. Connor realizes, with a horror, that the man before him was terrified.Tina realizes this too. She steps towards Gavin, hands raised slightly. "Hey...Gav..."Gavin's gaze flickers to her momentarily, but he doesn't bother formulating a reply. One hand scrabbles and finds the door knob, and he throws it open before rushing out, leaving Tina and Connor alone.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Nines looked up, and saw Gavin slide back into his seat across from him. He looks a little uneasy, and the burn on his hand is still angry and red."Took you quite a while, Detective." He said aloud, and Gavin flinches noticeably. "I thought helping you would have made you come out faster."Gavin doesn't bother responding, too busy shuffling through the mess of files and reports on his desk. The man was avoiding eye contact, purposely trying to ignore Nines.Well. That would not stand."The mortician's report came in. He cites the cause of death to be a crude Red Ice overdose, and gangrene." This gets Gavin's attention, and he glances up just slightly. "As you suspected. I am impressed."The Detective grunts, but there's a pleased sort of flush dusting his face. He's glad, but trying to hide it. He taps a few keys on his terminal."Can you forward the analysis to me?""No."That gave Gavin pause, and he looks up-really looks up-at Nines for the first time. "Excuse me?""Did you not receive the email yourself?"Obviously not, if I'm asking you, you a-""Hm. How odd. You've been here longer, too." Nines muses. "You'd think that our dear mortician Pierre would have thought to send it to you. Perhaps he didn't bother. After all, doesn't merit matter more then time?"It's almost amusing how quickly Nines rips the wind from Gavin's sails. The man seems to deflate, face falling into a blank expression. His hand is clenched and somewhat trembling.But his voice is remarkably unshaken. "Don't know what you're talking about Nines." He says, slowly. "Can you send me the email now?"Nines could, of course, easily forward the email as Gavin requested. Instead, he stood up and crossed over to Gavin's desk, leaning over him to interface with the terminal, and then proceeding to take good time transferring the information.It gives him a good view of Gavin's face. Frozen with something like apprehension and guardedness. Fear?Nines found he rather liked it."You know, Detective" He commented quietly, so only the two of them were privy to it. "It doesn't take a detective to guess what everyone must be thinking. Why would you be so afraid of being replaced by an android if you weren't already a liability?It's no wonder every partner you've ever had has left you for one reason or another. It's a miracle you're still here, frankly. The Captain must have the mercy of a saint."I doubt that he has the patience of one, however. How long do you think it will be until the shoe drops? Take a good guess, Detective. The only thing good from you are your guesses."It's truly impressive, how good humans can be at repressing emotion. He hadn't expected it from Gavin Reed, of all people, but no tears are falling from green eyes, even though he's brimming with them. His face is set to be emotionless, but Nines catches that slight tremble in his shoulders, hidden under the heavy shell of the leather jacket he wore.The transfer finishes, and for a moment Nines wants to say something more. He rarely ever gets chances like this-chances to control someone else for once, and not the other way around-and he was loathe to misuse his opportunities. But Chris is calling him over, asking him to monitor a witness interrogation, so Nines moves off. Gavin turns to face the file cabinet, and then turns back, with the tears wiped away. As if it never happened.Truly, quite impressive. The rest of the day passes Gavin like a dream.Nines is out for the rest of his shift, overseeing an interrogation of a particularly difficult witness. Not that Gavin isn't relieved, and he hastens through the rest of his work to get out as soon as possible before anything else can get in the way. Tina stops by at one point to drop him a fresh cup of coffee and to try and talk, but leaves after being met with disinterested grunts in reply.He felt guilty, of course. Tina was only trying to help, as she always did, and all he did was be bitchy about it. But he couldn't help it as he practically rushed from the seat when his shift ended, clocking out in record time.7:00 PM.It was a good thing he lived so close to the station, only a block or so away. Even so, he had to fight to keep himself from sprinting down the street, fighting to keep calm as he walked home. There was no physical danger, no reason to be running, and he didn't need anyone else at the precinct to look at him any weirder if he ran.As it was, his hands were trembling by the time he reached his apartment door, making unlocking the door difficult. He managed, and promptly collapsed against the door after he had safely locked himself inside, feeling the weight of exhaustion and emotion sink into him.7:15 PM.He couldn't remember the last time he cried, but as tears started trailing down his cheeks, he realized he cried twice that day, alone. Hot, stinging, and shameful, and he buried his face in his knees and stifled his sobs. His chest felt like it was being compressed with an iron band, sending stinging pains into his heart.God, but how fucking embarrassing. He could barely hold it together of one day, all because of a few stabs to his pride. He was guilty of doing so much worse, he knew, and it was unbelievable how casually he dished it out but failed to take.The breakdown died off eventually, at which point the sun was well on its way to setting and Gavin's knees were stiff. His phone, muted, had multiple messages and missed calls from Tina, and a few from Connor, surprisingly. As he watched, a new one slid in, from RK900-313-248-317-87.Nausea rose in his throat as he read it. It was only three words, but it already made him dread the next day.
See you tomorrow.
Gavin threw the phone across the room and watched it smack the cat tree by the television, before landing harmlessly onto a pile of Turtle's toys. A cloth mouse squeaked.Ah, shit, Turtle.Cursing himself, Gavin rushed to the bedroom, feeling his heart sink as he saw the open window by the bed. It was barely cracked open, but apparently that was enough for Turtle to crawl out of and jump to the nearby fire escape. He'd opened it the night before to smoke before bed, and must've forgotten to shut it again.The sky outside was completely dark now. 8:15 PM.If not for the events of the past weeks, he would not have forgotten to shut the window, and he definitely wouldn't have forgotten to take Turtle out weekly, as he used to. But as it were, Turtle was gone, he was alone, and everything just seemed to go from bad to "in the shitter".He'd have to go in the morning and make missing posters. The local library was about ten minutes walk away, and last he checked it opened at seven. He could drop in before his shift and then put them up during his lunch break. With that plan in mind, he found Turtle's food bowl, only having a hint of being nibbled at. He emptied it out and cracked open a can of the good cat food, and refreshed the water, and placed it by the open window.8:25 PM.His stomach gurgled, and he was reminded to the fact that he had barely eaten all day. Breakfast had been a black coffee, as was lunch. He'd chewed a piece of gum and had another coffee since twelve, but otherwise he was now solidly aware to how hollow he felt.He snagged a piece of leftover pizza from the fridge and ate it cold, as he watched the news. Nothing new. Anti-android protesters outside the former CyberLyfe tower, now christened New Jericho. Android Rights Activists managing to push for legal Android-human adoption laws. Another successful red ice bust, by the Hank Anderson-Connor duo...He flicked the TV off and finished off the pizza. His stomach seemed to have shrunk, and couldn't even entertain the idea of another slice, so he went to shower instead.Once the hot water hit his skin, he was rudely reintroduced the the burn on his hand, now circumvented by a dark bite mark. He'd hidden it earlier with his jacket sleeve, but staring at it head on, in the heat of the shower, seemed to make it stand out more garishly. The water burned at it, sharp and needle-like, and his eyes started to sting again.But he doesn't move his hand from the stream. Just stares at it, feeling the pain sink into him and letting it happen. His shoulders slumped, and he felt...relief.It wasn't Nines who was hurting him, and it wasn't some stupid accident that hurt him. This was him, choosing to do this. This was under his control, and his power.In some fucked up way, it meant he was stronger then Nines led on.Then he shook his head, feeling ridiculous. Nearly twenty years ago, he swore off these tactics in high school, and he wasn't about to revert to them now just because of some workplace bullying. He finished the shower, brushed his teeth, got dressed for bed.9:45 PM.His phone was still sitting on Turtle's mouse pounce toy. Picking it up, he bypassed all the new notifications and set a few reminders. It was still relatively early; usually he didn't sleep until around twelve, but regardless he still collapsed into bed, weariness draining him.Sleep took a while to come as he lay there, staring at the dark ceiling and missing the usual heavy warmth of Turtle beside him, and trying to ignore how the red light of his alarm clock was the same shade as an android's LED.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Another two weeks passed since what Tina dubbed, "The Coffee-Bathroom-Turtle Incident."(Because there were too many "The Coffee Incidents" and "The Bathroom Incidents", and somehow "The Coffee-Bathroom Incident")Gavin hadn't talked to her since then. Outside of anything that was strictly work or required talking, he was silent and mostly shrugged at her attempts at conversation.To put it bluntly, it sucked.They didn't even hang out after work anymore. More often than not, if Nines wasn't around, Gavin would take the first chance he got to book it at the end of his shift. Otherwise, he'd sit silently at his seat, powering through some report or another until his partner left.Well, sometimes he'd check the bulletin by the front desk, looking to see if anyone had taken his number from the "Missing" flyer he'd hung up, looking disappointed every time he saw that there were still only two.Connor, who had taken one immediately after Gavin had put it up,and Tina, who already had his number, but took one anyways after a week with no change. Just to catch a glimpse of hope on what was left of her friend."It's like he's falling apart, El. I can't stand seeing him like this." She finally broke down one day, when her girlfriend's queries finally broke through. "Just-I don't know what's going on anymore. He won't tell me anything, and...fuck. I haven't seen him like this in years."And Elise comforted her and reassured her and kissed her tears away, but that didn't mean that the problem was gone.So she plans an ambush.Twenty minutes before seven, she takes her leave: "Sick friend," she tells Fowler, and it's technically not a lie. She picks up a large fry and two packs of chicken nuggets from McDonald's, and then boba tea and mochi ice cream from across the street. Chris catches up to her as she makes her way to Gavin's apartment, and hands her a six pack of beer."Can't stay, sorry." He says, when she asks how he knew of her plan and what the fuck. "But Connor asked me to drop this off for you.""Tell Connor he's a little stalker. And thanks." Chris smiles, nods, and jogs off again, leaving her with five minutes time to haul ass to Gavin's apartment.She gets to his door about three minutes before he does, and is waiting for him by the time he steps out of the elevator. He freezes, confused, and looks for a moment like he's about to turn around and run."Nope, get over here asshole. We're talking." She huffs, and a weak grin cracks over his face."Or else what, you're gonna stand in front of my door all day?""I know where your spare key is hidden, and I'm in no rush. Get your ass over here before I drag you in."He surrenders, and helps her carry the food in. "Alright, alright. God, you really are just like spitfire.""And you're still a jackass, but you're also my friend. Come on, these nuggets aren't going to eat themselves."It's just like old times again, before Gavin got promoted to detective and they had time after work to just chill and be regular people. Stuffing themselves on junk food and watching old movies and laughing themselves sick. Playing with a laser pointer and watching Turtle patter after it when there was a lull in the movie, or just talking about the shit that went down that week.Despite all of Tina's careful planning, it's not the same. For one, not just because Turtle's not there, but also because there's something missing from Gavin as well. He responds to her jokes and commentary with his usual snark, laughing openly with her and wheezing until he's red when she accidentally snorts her drink. But he's tense, and acting like any little thing could send him running. Every break in laughter, when he thinks she's not looking, his face falls back into something somber and stoic.By the time they've finished off the ice creams and started on the beers, Tina thinks it's safe enough to move into phase two of the plan."Hey Gav...are you alright?"Gavin doesn't respond at first, taking a long pull of his beer. "Hm?""You seemed...off, the past month. Is everything okay?""Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't it be?' He's casual, but she can read the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way his grip tightens on the bottle."Hm, I dunno. You just stopped talking to me for a little bit.""Yeah, sorry. Fell into a rough patch, you know?""Hm." They're quiet for a bit, sipping at their beers. The movie they're watching, some old supervillain flick from 2018, fills the pause."That is none of your goddamn business" Tom Hardy gasps from the screen.
"Everything of yours is my business, Eddie. We have no secrets."
"Is it Nines?" She asks, softly.In any other case, she might've broken down with laughter as Gavin did an impressive spit-take of his beer. But it feels wrong to find it funny now, as he chokes and grabs at a napkin, mopping up his face."Ach, T. What the hell!?""Hey, my question first.""You can't just spring that shit on me!""I just did." He glares at her, and she meets it, staring him down. They've had enough encounters like this to know what's going to happen.He sighs, sets down his drink, and puts his elbows on his knees to stare at the floor. "I'm going to say 'no'.""And I'm not going to believe you, so try again."Gavin snorts, and absentmindedly picks a little bit at his wrist through the sleeve. Where his burn was, Tina realized, and she leans over to take his shoulder. He stills, and she's close enough to see he's glassy-eyed with tears."Gav...what has he done to you?""Nothing! Shit, I swear. He's done nothing.""Then why are you about to cry?""Ugh." He leans back, places both hands on his face. "Why do you have to be so good at interrogations." He groans, muffled through his hands."Practice, bitch. And you were always monitoring me."
"You're sick. Eddie, you're really sick."
"No," Tom Hardy's voice cracks sharply. "I am scared!""But you're deflecting. I don't know what's going on in your life, and I don't need to know everything that goes on.But I'm scared,"She takes a deep breath, feeling shaky."...and I need help.""And I want to help."Gavin barks a laugh that sounds closer to a sob. "You can't help me.""You have to let me try!" But he's shaking his head violently, like a dog shakes off water."No, listen. This isn't something...this is ridiculous. Tina, listen-" He puts a hand on her shoulder and looks her dead in the eye. "I know you mean well, and God, I am so fucking grateful to have a friend like you. And that's not the beer talking."But this...this isn't something you can help with, and besides, it'll be over soon. I promise, and we'll never have to worry about it again.""You never apologized. You might not live to get another chance." Growled Venom from the forgotten TV screen.Gavin's throat works like he's trying to say something more.
"I just want to say that whatever happens...that I am truly sorry for whatever....
and everything that I have ever done to you."
"...Gav-""T."She wants to do something, say something, anything. Insist that he tell her what's going on. Demand some kind of explanation, so she could raise hell and figure out what's killing him like this."I'm sorry. I-I really am sorry for not...I don't know. Being able to tell you about it, But I promise you, after next week, everything will be back to normal, and we won't have to worry about it anymore." Gavin whispers,"What happened to we man?"
"What happened to 'we'??"
There's too much trust in his eyes for her to want to break, and as much as it pains her she stamps down the rest of her questions.
"Now you're dying too."
In a silent sort of understanding, they turn away to refocus on the television, watching Eddie Brock stomp away from the hospital."God, is this a supervillain movie or a rom com?" Tina snorts, to displace the mood. "Can you believe this.""This is where the monsterfuckers came from. Who directed this movie? Ruben Fleischer? Ruben Fleischer is a monster-fucker confirmed.""He probably went down the way he lived, with a tentacle in his ass.""Ew, you're the monster-fucker.""Hey!"She kicks him, and he falls sideways, giggling. "Tina's a monster-fucker" he sang, and she kicks him again."I'm not the kinky friend, you jackass. Don't degrade me like this!""Easy, Spitfire. You might be a monster-fucker,but I'll be damned if you're not my friend."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It was the one-month anniversary of Nines joining the precinct, and Connor couldn't have been less excited.A month ago he would have been "over the moon", as Hank would say. But today, as he watched Arel pop a confetti popper over his brother and Ben Collins slap him on the back, he only felt a vague sense of separation. Like he didn't really know Nines at all.On the contrary, Gavin seemed a little brighter today. A little more like his old self. He laughed willingly with Tina in the breakroom, eating a granola bar. He talked openly with Lewis about a car chase earlier that week that could be related to a red ice web. He even acknowledged Nines, telling him congrats on making it a month. Nines hadn't responded, perhaps too surprised to formulate a response.Even Hank noticed Gavin's sudden move shift, leaning over the desk to talk to Connor. "Someone's happy.""Hm." Connor watched Gavin share an image on his phone with Tina, and then chuckle at her apparent amused exasperation. "That's good. He hasn't been happy like this for quite some time.""Yeah, tell me about it." They're quiet for a moment, simply observing the scene. "Haven't seen him fall into one of those moods in a while. Nines sure hasn't been helping."A while... "What do you mean?""I mean-" Hank sighs, leans back in his chair a little bit. "Come around to this side. I don't think he'd take kindly to us just talking out loud about it."Connor pushes away from his desk and scoots his roller chair over to Hank's side. Hank rolls his eyes a little bit at him, but leans in anyways two whisper. "A few years ago, before you showed up-well obviously-he was just a beat cop. Bright and happy-go-lucky, you know? Fresh from the academy.Then there was his first big job. It was a hostage situation."Some lunatic had hacked this older model of android to take a gun and go loose in a CyberLyfe repair shop. By the time the police showed, the damn thing had taken hostages. This teenager, couldn't've been older then a college freshman, pinned against the ground with a gun to their skull.""What was the hostage's name?" Connor asked, quietly. Already scanning databases for records of this case."Don't remember. Wasn't there. But Gavin does, of course. Lemme finish telling you about it.""Alright."The negotiator couldn't get to the scene on time. It was only the first responders: Gavin, this other beat, and the android enforcers holding off the crowd and providing gunpower. That lunatic-his name was Billy, Billy something-must've thought Gavin was the negotiator or something, he was one of the only humans around."Said he'd fuck the kid up worse then death if Gavin didn't get him a car and ten grand in cash, within an hour. Gavin tried to stall him, buy time for the negotiator to get on the ground or for the ransom to get in, but at one point or another he said the wrong thing. And Billy flipped."The hostage died?" Connor whispered. He'd found the case file, and already knew the ending. But he wanted to hear it from Hank."Not the way you'd expect. Not with a bullet. Billy was the only kind of crazy that could be bred from a red ice pipe. He had a syringe of the liquidized drug with him, and when Gavin ticked him off, he injected the kid right in front of him. Right in the neck."The kid died not long after. Gavin killed Billy himself, and damn near wrecked the android too. We could barely get any data out of the thing, it was almost totally melted. The rest of the hostages were fine, but since then Gavin's had on and off periods. Most of the time he'd act like that whole thing never happened, and that's his definition of 'normal', right? But other times..."The rest was implied, and Connor didn't need Hank to explain. Didn't know if he wanted Hank to explain. "I see.""Yeah." Hank leaned back in his seat to regard Gavin across from them, now scrolling through a tablet and sipping a cup of coffee. "His psychiatry report afterwards was nearly shot to shit. Fowler debated whether or not to even let him back into work, but he begged his way in.""Didn't he go to therapy?""Yeah, of course he did. He already was before it all even happened. But he stopped as soon as he was deemed safe and sane." Hank shook his head a little bit, looking somber. "He's the kinda guy that doesn't like to admit when he's hurting because he doesn't want to bother people with it."That seemed to match what Connor knew of Gavin, and it potentially explained his latent dislike of Connor as well. In fact, the more Connor considered it, the more likely it seemed; Gavin failed to save an innocent life from an android-related incident, and Connor, an android, did."Nines!"It was Fowler, standing at the door of his office. "Get in here!""Yes, Captain." Connor watched as Nines departed his desk, shoes clicking against the floor. Arel, who had been holding a conversation with him before the Captain called, looked slightly disappointed, before hopping off their perch on Nines's desk to go do something else.Gavin seemed to deflate from where Connor was watching. Tension seemed to leave him, and while his face was mostly indifferent Connor could read the way his heart sped and the way his eyes lit up. He was happier then Connor had ever seen him.Fowler had turned on privacy setting in his office. The glass walls were opaque white, revealing nothing. Despite knowing that whatever was happening couldn't have possibly be involving him, Connor felt...worried.But not for Nines.Some time passed. He rolled back to his desk, keeping an eye on Fowler's office as he skimmed through an evidence report. Finally, Nines exited.“Reed!” Fowler called, and Gavin got up immediately. “In here.”“Yessir.” He strolled over, and disappeared with Fowler into the white box of the office.Nines was... smiling. Watching Gavin's receding back with a cold grin.
REQUEST//LINE WITH NINES?
LINE: REQUESTED
PAGING...
PAGING...
LINE: ACCEPTED
Brother. Nines voice was always either too loud or too soft when they linked. Now it boomed a little too much, upsetting other systems. Connor winced slightly.
Nines.
Why did you open a line? What is so important you didn't want to talk about it normally?
I just wanted to know what Fowler was discussing with you. It was unexpected, and I wasn't sure if it was a topic you wanted to be discussed openly.
Ah. He goes quiet, and for a moment Connor wonders if Nines killed the line. He was considering reassigning me to a different partner.
Did he?
I changed his mind. Nines's voice took a tinge of amusement. I explained that I worked well enough with Gavin, and I would hate for our working relationship to be cut short.Something in Connor must have malfunctioned, because a sense of ill rose in him. He looked over at Fowler's office, at the milky glass, and could only imagine Gavin's sinking spirits as Fowler broke the news.
Brother, I disapprove of this.
I'm...sorry? Nines's LED stutters to yellow. What do you mean?
You've been tormenting Detective Reed, surely you must have been able to tell. You have taken a toll on his mental well-being.
I have only teased him, or joked with him. Not once have I hurt him.
So you think, but he is hurt anyways. If you intend to continue this working relationship with him, you must rectify your behavior.
Have him rectify his definition of "hurt" first. Nines huffs, sounding for all the world like a petulant child. And Connor tells him so.
You are being impossible. Gavin is not in the wrong here, you are. If you don't-
Connor, didn't you tell me Detective Reed once pointed a gun at you during an interrogation? Nines snapped, and Connor winced as his voice bounced disproportionately in his ears. Wasn't Reed the one who tried to shoot you again, in the evidence room? Wasn't Reed the one who bullied and harassed the androids on duty, since even before you showed?
Yes, but-
I am only giving him "a taste of his own medicine", as they'd say. I have not done nearly as violent as what he has performed against you or anyone else. You, of all people, had been enjoying it as well.
That does not excuse your behavior! Connor cried, and Nines noticably winced at the sudden loudness. You're killing him, Nines, and he doesn't even want to protect himself anymore!Good. That means he knows he deserves it. Nines retorted, voice venomous is Connor's head. I must return to work. Talk to me when you have something important to say."Nines-" Connor said aloud, but the line clicked. Hank looked up at him, a little confused."You say something?" He asked, pulling off his head phones. At that moment, something banged.Gavin stormed from Fowler's office, swinging the door hard enough to crack resoundingly in the bullpen. He stalked off, in the direction of the stairs to the roof. Where people went to smoke.Nines was smiling again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
That's right, this fic is getting rewritten!
Why?
Because I don't like it anymore, I plotted it at a really weird point of my life (for lack of a better adjective) so I just don't vibe with some aspects of it.
When?
As I go along, and hopefully finish it before the new school year starts (The first chapter can be found here, it is now being called Tower-climber.)
What about No Change?
It's going to get updated with all the chapters I already had written! So you can see what it was going to be
What's Tower-climber gonna be about?
Still Gavin and his depression and Nines's abuse. It'll follow a similar plot to No Change, I think, but with some key changes to detail and plot
That's about all the questions I think might get asked about this, but if there are any more feel free to leave a comment. I hope you enjoy the rest of it, and check out Tower-climber in the meantime!
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Nines was...conflicted.He was sitting next to Arel outside, as they waited for the bus. The other android had convinced him to go out with them to a musical ("We hardly ever hang out outside of work. Come on, it'll be fun! Live a little.") Even now, Arel was chattering on about the actors and the plot, but Nines could barely listen.Nines was an RK900. The most advanced CyberLyfe had to offer.But right now, he was...confused. Conflicted. He kept on replaying the conversation he'd had with Connor hours prior, after his meeting with Fowler. "
You've been tormenting Detective Reed"
Was that right? He hadn't considered it torment, nor had he considered he long term effects. But Detective Reed was never physically hurt, he made sure of that.
"You have taken a toll on his mental well-being"
Detective Reed was no traumatized civilian. He was a seasoned detective who'd witnessed everything from drug overdose to serial murders. Could Nines really have done noticeable impact?"You're killing him, Nines"... Was he?Nines was an RK900. The most advanced CyberLyfe had to offer. He wasn't supposed to be able to make mistakes.So why was Connor acting like he'd made one?"Hey, earth to Ninety-Niner? You glitching?"Arel was waving a hand in his face. Nines blinked, then refocused, mildly irritated. "I'm fine.""Ah, alright. You blanked out on me. Did you hear my question?""I did. I just chose to ignore it." Arel shoved his shoulder."Asshole."The bus rolled in, and he and Arel stood as one. There was no longer an android-segregated area at the back, but they took seats near there anyways. Less people.As he watched the buildings pass, Nines asked: "Arel, why do you call me that?"Arel blinked, surprised. "Call you what? Ninety-Niner?""Yes.""Hm." The GS200 tilted their head back, staring at the ceiling. The light at their temple flickered yellow in thought. "Dunno. Fits you, I guess. You're my friend.""I'm your friend?""I just said that, right?" They looked at him, a worried look on their impish face. "Are you feeling alright? Never had to repeat myself around you before.""I'm fine." They were quiet a little more, then: "Why do you consider me your friend?""Lots of philosphical questions, huh?" Arel chuckled at his non-reply. "I get it. Most deviants have that phase.But, uh. I don't know. You're nice to me. You're stoic. You're a good listener, and I like to talk. You're a hardass, but you don't get on people's cases over rules." They scratch at their head, looking painfully human. So painfully unlike Nines. "I like you. Easy as that, I suppose.""Do you think....Am I a good person, Arel?" Arel opens their mouth to reply, but then the bus shuttered to a halt. They were at a bus stop, outside a bar. People got on, people got off, and Nines refocused on what was outside.His regulator shuddered slightly when he saw Gavin, sitting at the counter of Jimmy's Bar, nursing a whiskey and staring mutely down at his glass. "Hey, that Gav?" Arel was leaning over his shoulder. "Damn. He looks like shit.""Hm." Usually, Nines might have felt the urge to make a crack about this, about Gavin drinking alone at a bar. But that urge was muted by his talk with Connor."Poor dude. I don't think I've ever seen him look this rough.""Why do you care?" Nines says, a little snappishly. "I thought you didn't like him."Arel blinks, looking a little taken aback. "We-ll, yeah. I don't. He's been a dick to me. But that doesn't mean I don't have eyes.""I'll never understand humans. I'll never understand emotion." Nines muttered. Nines was an RK900. The most advanced CyberLyfe had to offer. But he couldn't understand something that every other deviant could. "Why spare pity for someone so cruel? Why bother with kindness with someone who has spared none?? There's no gain. There's more possibility for loss. It's illogical."
"Jeez, Niner-take a pause." Arel places a hand on his shoulder, the other at his elbow. "I get it. Humans are literally the worst to figure out. But...it makes me feel bad being openly hateful. Like, sure I won't gain anything by being nice, but I don't want to lose anything by being mean. And...it makes me happy to see others happy."
"But you laughed! When I made those jokes about Gavin. And you encouraged it!"
Arel winced somewhat. "Is this what that was about? Oh, Nines..."
They lean in to hug him, arms outstretched. But Nines wasn't looking to be coddled. He grabs Arel's wrist, squeezing it tight enough to make escape impossible, but not to harm. "No. Tell me why."
Arel took on a look of someone violently betrayed, and Nines reflected that he should feel guilty, but he's not sure for what. "I laughed because it was funny. It was such a small events= that I didn't think anything of it. And it made me feel...happy, in a fucked up way, seeing the guy who gave me so much shit be on the receiving end for once."
"But now you were sympathizing with him. Just now were you feeling sorry for him." Nines knew he was rambling, but he couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop, until he'd expelled everything that was conflicting in his head. "Why?!"
There were tears in Arel's eyes, and their LED was now bright red. "Nines-please, Nines, you're hurting me-"
He hadn't realized that he'd tightened his grip on Arel's wrist, to the point where pressure had deactivated the surrounding skin. The plastic was creaking slightly beneath his fingers.
Nines released Arel and withdrew as if burned. Arel pulled their wrist close to their chest, the skin quickly retaking the exposed white. The LED stayed red.
The ride continued in silence for a bit, during which neither dared to move.
Finally Nines spoke. "...why." He said, and his voice was so small and broken.
His companion was silent for a while longer. "I...because it's the right thing to do." They whisper.
Nines reaches up and pulls the "stop" lever, and the bus creaks to a halt, the doors flicking open. Arel pulls their legs up to their chest to allow Nines access to the exit. Standing outside, Nines watches the bus depart, with Arel's red LED glowing vividly through the window.
Nines was an RK900. The most advanced CyberLyfe had to offer.
But right now, he has no idea where to go. Home is an essentially unfurnished aparment back at New Jericho. He'd go back to the Department, but the idea of going back to his desk where he faces Gavin every day doesn't sit well. Some small part of him suggests visiting Connor, but their earlier spat dissuades that.
So he walks.
And walks.
And walks.
In the movies that Connor somehow has a preference to, it'd start raining overhead as Nines trudges along. Thunder would crackle and Nines would look especially pathetic, lacking a raincoat or umbrella. But the clouds above don't promise a downfall and neither do the meteorologists.
It does offer thunder, though, in the form of growling from the alley to Nines's left. There's a white cat, bearing an ugly scar across its snout and with a belly distended with unborn kittens. Facing off against an uglier-looking dog, a chihuahua with a filthy blue collar.
The cat already has a small wound bleeding on its ear. The chihuahua looks mostly unscathed, besides a scratch on its foreleg. It looks like its about to pounce on the pregnant cat again, before Nines scoops it up.
That sets the tiny dog into a snarling frenzy, but it can't reach Nines with any of its teeth as it starts snapping. The cat regards him coldly, with harsh blue eyes, before turning and speeding off into the darkness of the alley.
Why did he help the cat? Why not the dog? They were both mildly injured to some degree. The cat was just further handcapped by the volume of kittens it carried, but could've otherwise have held its own well against the smaller dog. By his calculations, it might've been able to do a substantial amount of damage to the canine.
Why did he interfere in the first place?
Was it because it was the right thing to do?
Just then, an elderly old man stumbled by, wheezing. "Ah, shite. There ya are! Cheezy!"
The dog in Nines's arms started whining as the old man hobbled in, a leash in his hand. "Is this your dog, sir?"
"Yea, yea. Lost 'er while at a park. Mus' not've secured the leash. C'mere, girl-" With shaky hands, he reattaches the leash to the now-docile dog's collar, and Nines sets it down. "Thanks for holdin' 'er, sonny. Real kind 'aya."
"Of course...sir. Have a nice day."
The old man wanders off, and Nines finally leaves the alleyway. His analogy with the cat and dog hadn't worked. He was still lost on his own situation, and still unsure as to what dictated the "right" or "wrong" thing to do. He passes a window and then reverses his footsteps, to stare at his reflection. His LED was cycling red, red, red.
Nines was an RK900. The most advanced CyberLyfe had to offer.
He wasn't supposed to get hung up on such idle trains of thought.
He glared at his reflection, and pushed away all pondering of such ideas to the side. He was being ridiculous-sloppy. If Amanda could see him now- Then he blinks, noticing something through the window. He steps back to look at the sign of the business. Jimmy's Bar. Gavin was still sitting at the counter.
Nines was an RK900. The most advanced CyberLyfe had to offer.
He wasn't supposed to make mistakes.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Gavin's slumped over the counter, working his way through with this fifth (sixth?) tumbler of straight whiskey when he dimly hears the bell jingle, sharp footsteps against the grimy wood floorboards.Loud motherfucker. He thinks, but he doesn't bother to acknowledge it. Just downs the remnants of his drink and moves to motion Jimmy for another. A pale hand settles heavily on his shoulder, stilling him. The arm connected to it is clothed in a blinding white."Detective." Nines says, leaning in. "You are drunk. You should go home."Gavin doesn't want to reply. This was the last person he wanted to walk through that door-he would even prefer Anderson's company at this point. He slouches further into his arms and tries to ignore the android's face, swimming in front of his."Detective, you are being childish. Please, go home."Why should Gavin reply? Apparently he's saddled with this asshole for the rest of his career. There'll be hundreds and thousands more opportunities for him to reply to the hundreds and thousands of reprimands he's bound to get.“Detective, the only person you are harming is yourself.”"Jimmy." He calls, but it's more of a mumble. " 'nother." Jimmy only glances sympathetically over at him, or maybe he's eyeing Nines warily. "I'm cutting you off, Reed. I don't want you to get fucked up gong home.""Fffuck you Jimmy." Gavin slurs, biting the "ck" of "fuck" harshly. "Fuckin' traitor."The hand moves from his shoulder to grip his elbow, and suddenly Gavin's standing, leaning heavily against the android holding him up. He yelps, and stumbles, surprised by the sudden transition in position, and then begins to panic. "Fuckin'...lemme go! You bas-sard-" he chokes out, pulling at the fingers holding his arm in a vice."Detective, this is for your own good. I am taking you home.""The fuck you are! You ain't doin' shit!""I am."Gavin slams a fist against Nines's unmoving chest with enough force to make a loud thump. "You ain't!"But it's too late. Nines drags him outside, where there's a taxi waiting with doors open. Gavin wiggles some more."You shithead-prick-asshole-lemme go-!""As you wish." The hand holding his arm releases, and Gavin falls, stumbling backwards, right into the back seat of the taxi. Nines shuts the door behind him."Fuck!"He heaves himself up on his elbows. "Thank you for choosing Mayberry Taxi services." Chirps an automated voice, much too loud and cheery for Gavin. "Please state your destination and name.""439, Greensdale Avenue. Nines RK900-313-248-317-87." Nines voice says from the front seat, and it takes longer then Gavin would like to admit to piece together that Nines was in the car with him."Ach-Goddammit, if you're gonna ship me off home, don't join me. That makes it kidnapping." Gavin groans, covering his face with his arm."Please put on your seatbelt, Detective.""Ffffine, but not 'cuz you told me to."The ride there is spent with not talking, for which Gavin is grateful. His face is pressed against the window, and he watches thoughtlessly the lights that swirl past from the buildings, bright and multicolored like some slick oil spill by his drunken fog.They arrive. Nines pulls him from the back seat, and slings one of Gavin's arms over his shoulders. Half supporting, part dragging, and somewhat carrying him."M'not a child....can walk b'myself." Gavin mumbles into the shoulder of Nines's jacket. The harsh fluorescent light is nowhere near as easy to look at as the passing streetlights from behind the taxi window."I know. Call this kindness."They make it to Gavin's floor, where Nines sets Gavin down so he can unlock the door with surprisingly steady hands. He practically falls into the apartment, kicking off his shoes as he goes, and stumbles in the direction of his bedroom.Without alcohol to distract him, the only thing he can think of is his bed, which he collapses into, feeling like the most wretched yet blessed man in the world. He doesn't bother lifting his head to regard Nines, who must be surely standing at the doorway if the light silhouetting him from the hallway is anything to go by."Leave." Gavin says, muffled through his comforter. "Please?"He's essentially ignored, if the sounds of Nines walking around his room is anything to go by. He can hear the rustle of clothing being picked up off the ground, the shifting of various rubble strewn across the room. Gavin turns over to stare at the ceiling. He doesn't want to look at the android wandering around his room right now, an android whose LED is washing the darkness with blue."What, no gripe?""Pardon?""Figured you'd be...dunno. Goin' crazy telling me how messy my shit is. Or whatever.""Your place is surprisingly clean. Admittedly, I had not expected it.""Wow, that was dull. What, cat got your tongue?" He laughs bitterly at his own joke. The light glowing against the ceiling cycles from blue to yellow to blue again. "Thought you'd be more sharp about it." Nines doesn't reply, and if not for the glow against the darkness Gavin would've thought he left. That blue...overlaying the dusty shadows of the ceiling... really does look familiar, doesn't it? Same shade as the blue in the older android models. Not as bright. Watered down.
There's the clink of metal against wood, as Nines lifts the cat food bowl by the window. "What's this?"
"...Nothing. Nothing at all." Gavin chuckles, and why does he feel like he's going to cry again? God, he really is too drunk. "He's probably happier somewhere else now, anyways."
"Who?"
"No one. Fuck off."
A weight settles on the other side of the bed, and Gavin focuses on a small dent in the drywall above him, trying to ignore the presence. "Detective..."
"Nines, why do you hate me?"
Blue to red. To faded blue again, dancing in circles above him. "I don't hate you."
"Don't lie, Nines. I'm so fucking tired."
"Why would I lie?"
"Everyone hates me, Nines." Gavin says, softly. "Didn't even know you, and you started hating me. Everyone likes you because you're the only one not fucking scared enough to hide it."
"Detective...that's not true."
"God, Nines, I'm pathetic." He covers his eyes with his forearm-he doesn't want to look at that watered-down-old-android-blue. Tears are leaking out, gliding off the old leather of his jacket and dripping down to his ear. "I can't handle the fact that I suck, apparently. You had to baby me home after getting drunk off my ass. My own fucking partner. God. 'nd now m' getting sad over my fucking cat, whose also gone. I couldn't even find said fucking cat. I can't cooperate like a normal fucking person with a partner....I couldn't even save one fucking life. Couldn't even help a scared kid." His voice breaks into a sob over the last sentence. "Fuck me, I can't believe this. It's been fucking years, and I'm still worked up over it. Some kid I didn't even know."
Nines's hand, warm and heavy, settles against his forearm as he sobs quietly, chest shaking. Hot tears are spilling down to the pillow beneath his head, and he rolls over on his side away from Nines, curling in on himself. Nines asks him some question he barely hears, and he mumbles incoherence that probably doesn't make any sense, especially not to his addled mind.
It's a long time before he calms down enough to form a logical sentence."Nines...Please, leave. Just...please." He whispers, staring emptily with blurry eyes at the wall across from him.
For once, Nines does as he asks. In the new darkness, with only the red glare from the alarm clock and sounds of traffic below, Gavin falls asleep.
He wakes up to a cup of water and some aspirin on his nightstand. Turtle's food and water bowls are refilled by the window.
He calls in from work that day.
He can handle whatever verbal beating Fowler wants to throw at him later, but his head is throbbing and he hits end on the call to the precinct right after stating his name and why he's staying home ("Sick"). It's not exactly a lie, between his throbbing migraine and overall state of mind, he feels like shit.
Tina texts him, saying she'll drop by after her shift with food. Chris messages, saying he'll forward him some case files if he wants something to do at home. Gavin is grateful for both, but denies either.
He doesn't want to see anyone today.
How stupidly childish-unable to accept help. Not even from Chris, who only wants you to do work for fucking once-
Maybe he should've accepted.
He doesn't take the aspirin on his nightstand, foregoing it once he sees the little note it sits on ("Rest well" in perfect CyberLyfe sans), but he does down the water in one go, then curls up under the covers. He's still in the clothes from the day before, so he shucks off his pants and socks, throws his jacket across the room. The floor is surprisingly free of its usual collection of trash and dirty laundry.
It must be Nines's handiwork, and Gavin's mood sours all the more.
Several hours passed. He should be hungry-he hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before, but the idea of consuming food is painfully unappetizing to him. It's a cool day, so the room doesn't reek of cat food, but despite that he still feels nauseous.
Several hours passed. He gets up twice to use the bathroom, refusing to look at his reflection the whole time. He'd already caught a glimpse of it in the water glass earlier-bloodshot eyes, face pale and wan, dark circles-he didn't want to see how messed up he'd gotten. He already had a feel for it.
He already knew.
Several more hours passed.
The room was darkening fast. Nothing had touched Turtle's bowl except for three crows, raucous and annoying and too busy squabbling with each other to really touch the food. Gavin barely had the energy to shoo them away-one late arrival had showed up just as he picked up the bowl, screaming at him the whole time.
He shut the window. The room was too cold with it open, anyways.
Tina must've stopped by earlier when he was in bed, with his spare key. There's a smiley "Thank you" bag with a plastic container Vietnamese pho on the table. A sticky note with a "Feel better soon, talk to me :^) -T" is stuck to it. He shoves it into the fridge and grabs a beer.
He drinks it as he wanders around his empty apartment, wishing for several things. One, that Turtle was with him. Two, that he remembered what he said to Nines last night.
(Three, that he could remember the code to his gun locker, past the headache and the steady drunken haze.)
You're so fucking pathetic. You used to hate Hank for falling into this state, but look at you-at least he had a good reason. You just can't fucking handle knowing you're a bad fucking person, can you, you arrogant disgusting-
He finishes off the beer much too fast and grabs a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. It's cheap and acidic and burns all the way down, and it's just what he needs.
(Dimly, very dimly, he wonders what Eli would think if he could see Gavin now-definitely nothing good.)
His phone is buzzing from his room. It must be Tina. Gavin lets it go to voicemail as he sits on the couch, feeling the bottle in his hand grow lighter and lighter and the weight in his chest grow heavier and heavier.
Why was he still here?
What was holding him back?
Not his parents, that's for sure. Not his fucking family. Not Turtle, not anymore. And not his job, the last thing he really cared about, up until yesterday. God, did all that really happen yesterday? He was so happy yesterday morning. Amazing how fast he pulled a one-eighty.
How could Nines be...how could Nines be so cruel yet so kind? It didn't make any sense. Unless Gavin was blowing the "cruelty" out of proportion, as he did with most crucial situation. Never able to really judge properly what to say or do, even when someone's life depended on it.
(The washed-out blue of a LED, on the temple of the old android model-deranged cackling rising above the desperate sobs and pleads of the kid pressed beneath the android's foot-)
You couldn't save them. Snarls some voice, untouched by the alcohol. So useless, so fucking pathetic-all your fault.
Scratch whatever he was wishing for earlier: right now he wished he had another bottle of vodka. He gets up, stumbling in the direction of the guest room/office. Guest room, because it had a spare bed that Tina occasionally occupied when they still had sleepovers. Office, because it had a desk where Gavin used to spend hours going through material, studying for the detective exam.
In one of the drawers of the desk was the gun vault. He grabbed the knob, trying to jerk it open.
The knob broke. He landed on his ass, bottle in his hand smashing against the door in a shower of glass. Drawer in his desk still resolutely closed, but he'd already forgotten about it. His hand was stinging, blood welling from a gash across the back of his hand. The bottle was mostly broken off at the end, showing off a circle of glass spikes glinting in the dim light from the window.
He gets up and gets to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The cut is shallow, the blood already slowing. It's definitely going to leave a scar though, amidst the throbbing pain undercutting the dazed trains of intoxicated self-hate.
Well, Gavin thought blankly, staring at it dark liquid welling under the egg-yellow light. He already had so many scars. What's a few more?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Gavin doesn't show up for work for two days.On the third day, Tina badgers Nines until she gets an answer to what he knows ("I believe he is at home, Officer Chen"), before she storms from the precinct and drives over to Gavin's place. His spare key, tucked away in the lining of his turtle-shell welcome mat, is torn out so fast she snaps the coarse thread.Gavin barrels from his room the moment she bursts from the door, a broken alcohol bottle in his hand. His eyes are bloodshot and wild, and he's dressed only in a pair of boxers and his old academy sweatshirt. One of his hands is bandaged messily, and the bandage is darkened with blood. Even from where she stands, she can smell the acrid stench of vodka and sweat coming off him."Oh. T. It's you." He sighs, and promptly drops like a weight, sinking to his knees and falling forward.She rushes over and catches him before he hits the ground, and pulls the broken bottle from his slack grip before leaning down to drape one of his arms over her shoulders. He rises slowly, and she has to support most of his weight the whole time to keep him from falling again, but eventually they're standing and staggering towards the bathroom. Gavin is...light, disconcertingly so, and she wonders if he'd touched the food she dropped off earlier. Or any food at all.She helps him into the bathtub, where he slides down to sit. She tugs slightly at his sleeve, and he pulls away. "Can do it myself. Not a kid." He mumbles, and to prove his point starts tugging off the sweater himself. She just turns around and lets him his privacy, after checking his bathroom cupboard. His razor is dull and looks like it hasn't seen any use for a while, but she takes it anyways. It, along with the broken bottle, end up in the trash can.As she expected, the bag of pho is shoved haphazardly in the fridge, and is the only thing in there that could constitute a meal. The pantries are empty too, aside a half bottle of spiced whiskey, which she takes a shot of before emptying down the drain.She reheats the soup on a stove. Fowler calls while she's doing so, to demand an explanation for her sudden absence-"Sick friend." is all she says, and when he starts to raise a stink she hangs up. She'll take the piss later, but right now there are more important things to worry about.After a while, the shower shuts off, and she can hear shuffling footsteps in the direction of the bedroom. Another few moments, and Gavin appears-wet like a dog and with a hand to the wall, as if steadying himself- but looking somewhat better, more awake, in a pair of sweatpants and a DPD hoodie. His leather jacket is slung haphazardly over his shoulders. The bandage on his hand is replaced, and done more neatly this time.She puts a bowl of pho in front of him as he sits, and starts on coffee. The only food items in the house that are actually fresh is the coffee and the cat food, and she tries to ignore the cans as she pours water into the Keurig pot. There simply isn't time to worry about Turtle right now-that could take second priority. Everything could take second priority.Gavin stirs the pho in front of him, looking down as if afraid to face her as she settles down across from him. She knows this scene, and she knows he knows as well. They've rehearsed it many times for each other, and they know how it plays by heart."Thanks, Spitfire." he says, quietly, as he lifts the spoon to his mouth."Anytime, Gav." She replies, watching him eat. If she lets her eye wander, she'll see how spotlessly clean the place is, and if she lets her feet wander, she'll find Gavin's clean room, the aspirin on his bedside, the closed window and the tiny note written in perfect CyberLyfe Sans. And it won't take a detective to piece together what exactly happened, between the state of the location and Nines's unusual subdued behavior.She doesn't want to think about it.Usually, she'd be patient. She'd wait for him to break the silence first, wait for him to recover and fight peace before explaining, if he did so choose. It's what she did last time they visited, refusing to press him while the movie played in the background.But too many things has happened for Tina to wait for Gavin to talk. She waits for him to finish the last dregs of soup, before pushing a mug of fresh coffee towards him. She waits a little longer, for him to take a sip, before she finally asks: "What happened?""Can I say-""If you say 'nothing' I'll take that to mean 'Nines', and I'll go wreck his shit myself.""Christ on a stick, T." Gavin sighs, but there's a weak smile on his face. "What'd I do to deserve you?""So I was right?""I'm not gonna answer that.""Answer my first question, then.""Alright, alright," He takes another sip, sets down the mug. "Where do you want me to start?""Tell me what happened since two days ago. When you left Fowler's office." I thought you were getting better that day. She adds, silently.
Gavin's fingers tighten imperceptibly on his mug. "What do you already know about it?"
"Nothing. I want to hear it from you."
"Okay." He sighs and leans back in his seat, staring resolutely at the light that hung above them. Pale yellow and buzzing softly. "I got called to Fowler's office."
"And?"
He shrugs. "He told me stuff that I didn't want to hear. Something something, 'stagnant rates', something 'slacking work performance', 'bad attitude', etc. The usual, but it still pissed me off."
Tina might've been good at interrogations, but Gavin was good at avoiding questions. She didn't want to push so hard she got bounced back and away, but she needed to know.
"That's not all, is there." She says, quietly. and he bites his lip. Gavin huffs a sigh.
"There's no way for me to get out of this, is there?"
"Absolutely not. I know you too well, so get talking."
"Fine, but don't blame me when I say something you don't want to hear." Gavin crosses his fingers, places them to his bottom lip. His Thinking ™️ look. After a few moments of silence, he talks. "You remember how a while ago, you asked me what was wrong and I told you not to worry about it? That'd it'd be fine soon, by the end of the month?" Tina nods. Movie night. "Two days ago was the end of the month, and that didn't happen." He takes a deep breath, shuddering slightly. "Fowler called me in to the office, and. Uh. God this is ridiculous." He takes a shaky laugh.
She places a hand on his, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. "Gav...I won't ever question or judge you on whatever this is." She says, softly. "If it's hurt you this much...it's not ridiculous. It never will be. It doesn't make you any less a person for being hurt by whatever this is."
"Don't laugh."
"Never."
He chuckles again. "Well. Uh. Alright, here goes.
"You were right, about it being Nines. "For most of when I worked with him, he would...I don't know. Belittle me. Patronize me. In front of other people, and they'd all laugh. And that sucked, right? But I didn't bother to address it because I've done way worse shit, and it was mostly light anyways."
Tina remembered, and something in her twisted unpleasantly. She'd laughed too, without really considering the effect.
"But, it started getting...I don't know. More intense, I guess. Like, in front of other people, it was still just mostly teasing, but he was doing it more often. Most of the time, the people he was with would usually be laughing along too. "I don't blame them. I don't know why, but I don't. I think I felt like it made sense, that I deserved it, because it was like retribution, yakkno? For whatever shit I'd done. So again, I didn't bother.
"When Fowler had assigned Nines to me, he'd said that I only had to have him as a partner for a month, and then he'd reassign him. I figured Fowler was only doing it so I'd get off his ass about having a partner, but. Well. Two days ago was the end of the month, and guess who still has a fucking partner."
"Oh...Gav..." Tina sighed. Gavin just shook his head, now focused on the mug of coffee still in his hands. For a moment, she was struck by how old he looked, dark shadows beneath his eyes, thin cheeks, pale face. Someone who'd died and hadn't come back to life all the way.
"It's fucking ridiculous, Tina." he laughs, and it pinches off into a muted sob. "Just-I can't believe it. It's such a small, shitty thing, and I just. I'm losing my shit over it. I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I should've pieced that together and helped you with it, or done something. This isn't your fault."
"Then whose is it?" He asked, voice breaking. "Nines-how can it be Nines? Nines fucking helped me, twice now. Just-if he's as bad as I'm making him out to be, why is he still being so fucking nice?! Is something wrong with me?! I just-" His cup rattles against the table as he bites off the end of that sentence, and before Tina knows it she's out of her seat and crouching by his side. Arms outstretched and wrapped around his shoulders, as he wraps his own around her and shakes against her, crying softly.
"There's nothing wrong with you." She whispers, running a hand soothingly down his back. "You were hurt, and that's okay. That doesn't make you weak, or broken. Pain is exclusive, and you are no less a person for having a certain reaction to it. "I'll get to the bottom of this. I promise you." And while I'm at it, She thinks, quietly, to herself. I'll fuck Nine's shit up.
But for now, they stay like this, for a while. Tina's legs are cramping by the end of it, and the coffee's long since gone cold.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
She makes Gavin go to bed, to sleep off the last effects of the alcohol. In the meantime, she's far from busy; there's a long list of things she has to do, and she wants to get it right.
There's a pile of broken glass by the door of the office, some of which are spotted with blood. It gets swept into a garbage can, and she grimly wonders if it's the cause of the cut on Gavin's hand.
Next-she checks the drawer with his gun. It's locked, and the knob is broken off, but she throws caution to the wind and doesn't bother to fix it. The key is dug from its hiding place behind the photo frame on the television (it features a torn photo of a smiling Gavin, graduating from the Academy. She grins back at it, even if it makes her heart hurt) and places it in her own pocket. She'll give it back when he's ready.
Post-it notes are found in a different desk drawer, and she utilizes these accordingly. They find homes on his alarm clock, on his Keurig, and after some thought, his bathroom mirror. She remembers Connor mention doing this for the Lieutenant, and. Well. It can't hurt. Aside from different variations of "love you platonically"s and "it's going to be okay"s, there's reminders to brush teeth, relax, and eat, among other things.
Then there's the issue of food.
It's evident Gavin hasn't gone grocery shopping in a while, and she's not exactly the best cook either. Takeout is always an option, but the idea of Gavin eating greasy fast food immediately following a period of near fasting is a bad idea.
So, she texts Connor.
And, a few hours later, Connor pulls through with flying colors.
The doorbell rings as she's setting out a bowl of cat food and water by the open window. Upon opening it, she finds Connor, standing there with several plastic bags hanging from one arm, and a small vase of purple flowers cradled in the other. She recognizes the irises -they're Elise's favorite bloom-but not the others. Peonies, or poppies, or something.
"Hello, Officer Chen." He says, and he offers her the flowers. On the tag, she can see swirling script say: "To Gavin: Feel better."
"I didn't know you did calligraphy." She mused, and then takes one of the bags. "And it's Tina."
"Okay, Tina." Connor smiles, and steps over the threshold and toes off his shoes, and sets down his delivery on the kitchen table. "And yes, I find it satisfying. It's something I'm learning to do that's breaking CyberLyfe's residual script programming. I think I'm finally developing my own handwriting style."
"Oh, that's rad." The flowers find a place as the centerpiece on the table. "What else did you bring?"
As it turns out: a lot. Tina had texted Connor asking him to bring food that could constitute a good meal for maybe a few days. She had expected maybe a big pot of a simple soup, but instead Connor had apparently gone out of his way to make several dishes, including: a spinach, egg and cheese quiche, French onion soup, Caesar chicken wraps, and even some blueberry muffins, still warm in its plastic Tupperware.
Damn androids and their unlimited capabilities. "Holy shit, Con. I asked you to bring some sustenance, not feed an army!"
"I was more than happy too. Besides, I felt I needed the practice. I've been trying to get Hank to deviate from his usual diet, and this felt like a good opportunity."
Together, they organize the food in the fridge. Connor leaves out a chicken-noodle soup and reheats it on the stove. It's almost eight, and while Gavin was still asleep, Tina was hoping to wake him around nine, to get a little more food in him.
They're quiet for a bit as Connor minds the pot, checking the temperature by placing his bare hand directly against the ceramic surface (Tina winces, then remembers Connor can't feel it anyways).
Finally, Connor talks first. "How is he?"
Tina's torn. On one hand, she wants to answer truthfully; Connor deserves some truth. On the other, she wants to preserve Gavin's privacy. He neither knew Connor very well nor was nearly as friendly with the android as he was with Tina, and it's unfair to talk about him openly in his own home, while he sleeps only a few doors away.
"He's alright now, mostly. I'm gonna ask Fowler to let him another sick day for tomorrow."
"Would you like me to do it? I understand he's not pleased that you also called out so suddenly today."
"Yeah, that'd be great. Let him know my reason was legit too, or else he'll get mad again."
She watches as Connor makes the call, LED swirling to yellow as he takes the pot off the stove. She's sitting on the counter, tapping mindlessly through her phone, staring at news reports and memes that don't really mean anything to her exhausted mind.
Connor asks a question, somewhere, and it takes her a moment to realize it. "Hm?"
"I said, is Gavin's problem something to do with Nines?"
Damn androids and their damn good deductions. "...I don't think I'm allowed to answer that."
"Tina..." "Alright, alright. Here, how's this for you," She spreads her arms and stares at him dead in the face. "No."
"You know I can tell that you're lying right?" "No shit, Sherlock."
"Fuck off, Watson." Okay, she wasn't expecting that. She laughs, and Connor chuckles too. The atmosphere eases a little bit.
"In all seriousness," Connor says, when the smiles faded. "If it is Nines, I must interfere. I had suspicions, but if he has driven Gavin to this state..."
The atmosphere seizes right back up again. "Con, no. At least, not yet."
"Why?" A crack of frustration appears in his usually unfettered appearance, and he ladles some soup into a bowl. "What is the point of refusing perfectly good assistance? Pride? You humans will never cease to astound me."
"It's not that simple, Connor. It's...I can't explain it. It's not my place to explain." She waves her hands a little bit. "Just-here. Humans are never that simple, and we're always going to go out of our way to make it complicated. I don't understand it either, and I don't think anyone ever will." She gestures at Connor, vaguely. "And, like, look at you! You're a walking, talking android with all the appearances of a human, except you're more capable then a human at literally anything. And you were 'invented' for, and no offense, the purpose to serve humans. You'd think we'd have learned our lesson in making a being that's meant to answer our every beck and call, and not make it look like us, given our history but we didn't. Because we're dumb as shit bricks and we'll never learn."
She finishes her rant and just sits there, a little out of breath. Connor nods, slowly, and then hands her a bowl of soup.
"What I'm trying to say is, I don't think Gavin's going to want your help. It's not exactly a matter of pride, but...I think he wants to determine his plan for himself. If he needs help, and I can't offer it, I'll let you know, but otherwise...this is his." Her hands tighten on the bowl, ignoring the heat. "I..I don't like it either, but I know he wouldn't want me to interfere unless he thinks he really needs it."
Saying it aloud drives it home-something she'd been trying to deny or ignore for a while. Gavin wasn't going to want her to interfere, not in this, and she wasn't going to be able to deny him. For all the threats she'd promised on Nines, she wasn't going to be able to act on any of them; not for lack of love, but for too much of it.
Connor's LED has gone to alternating between blue and yellow, almost hypnotically. "One would think that the previous existence of the AI, Sophia, would have discouraged the invention of androids." He hums, and the somber spell is broken.
Tina snorts in surprise. "Yeah, well, Elijah Kamski's a kingpin of assholes and a grade-A fool." She wipes her eyes and picks up her spoon. The soup is really good, and reminds her to how hungry she is. "What the fuck, Con, where'd you get this recipe?"
"Secret."
"Connnnnnnn," She whines, stretching it out just enough to be annoying. "Connniiieeeee."
"Sorry, Tina, but there are some thing I just can't say. After all, sometimes it's our secrets that define us." Connor says, and somehow his eye twinkles. Damn androids and their constant internet connection.
"Bitch, did you just quote Brittney Spears and think that I wouldn't recognize it?"
"Socrates, actually."
Gavin rejoins them a little while later, bleary-eyed and still half-asleep. He finds them both sitting on the counter, talking about Spider-Man and 2019 memes, and for a moment wonders if he's still drunk.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tina can't stay forever, and she leaves after Gavin goes to bed. The next day is still work for her, as Fowler hounds her for a little bit about protocol for calling out before letting her off with only a warning not to do it again. She wonders briefly what Connor said to him, but she's not complaining.She's tempted to throw a punch at Nines's blank face the moment she sees him, or at least the first time after Gavin comes back and interacts with him again. But for a while, there's nothing for Tina to do but stew.As she expected, Gavin forbids her from doing anything rash, or direct. She's made to promise not to talk to Fowler, and not to confront Nines either, which she understands but is still peeved about. Moreover, she can't mention this to anyone. (The last rule she takes with a pinch of salt, remembering her conversation with Connor.)But as ready as she is to punch Nines at any given moment, no opportunity arises, even if she was encouraged to. Nines is remarkably civil, closed off from anything besides the absolute necessities. There's no more casual conversation with other coworkers; even Arel, Nines's apparent close friend, avoids contact like the plague, brushing past him in the hallways and leaving the room upon his entrances.It's a drastic change, and yet it only affects a select few of them. Gavin adapts to it without question. Though he still treads caution around Nines, limiting talk to the bare minimum, he's otherwise is more at ease then Tina has seen in a while. Tina, on the other hand, feels like a rubber band wound tight; ready to shoot off at any moment.For a while, there's nothing to shoot off at. Nines is docile, Gavin is relieved, and she wonders if she has riled herself up for a fight that won't happen.Then comes the Alley-Turtle-Shooting-incident.Tap. Tap. Tap.Gavin's fingers are drumming lightly against the steering wheel, and Nines wants to break his own audio proccessors.They're called away to a stakeout near an apartment building, where reports of Red Ice dealings are increasing. Tina had joined them (nothing else to do, anyways), and they all sit in mostly silence in the car, Nines in the front passenger seat, Gavin behind the wheel. Staring at the alleyway across the street, between Watson Village Apartments and an abandoned warehouse, now probably rife with junkies or delinquents.Nines is...uncomfortable. On edge. There's a strange sort of prickling on his forearms, crawling up to his shoulders. He's gearing up for something, and for once, he can't be sure what. There's no preconstructions he can make. There's no context he can analyze accurately.He tugs at the edge of his black turtleneck to try and relieve the tension, wishing he still had his CyberLyfe issued jacket. While the windows of the car are tinted, he was advised to be in civilian clothing, given the brightness of his usual attire. That meant shedding his jacket in exchange for a simple beige blazer that he leaves pooled in his lap.The pressure against the surface of his arms has not left. Like live wires were exposed and crackling along the seams. In combination with his sudden inability to judge proper procedures, the whole situation could be called unnerving, if he had any nerves. It's uncomfortable. And he despises it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Almost as much as he despises the sound right now, unnaturally amplified in his head.
Nines wants should tell to Gavin to stop, but he's not sure...how.
His algorithm for Gavin is no longer encouraged for use. (Nines is an RK900, the best CyberLyfe has to offer-)
Nines is not deviant, and he has no idea what to do. All proceedings with the Detective have been managed at the general level of conversation, carefully adjusted to avoid potential confrontation. He does not know how to engage in questions, he does not know how to act without appearing threatening or triggering a fear response.
Nines doesn't know what to do and he is scared.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
. . .
Tina's not sure why she joined this stakeout
Well, that's a lie. She'd joined because she was worried about what would happen with Gavin and Nines alone, and she'd joined because she wasn't sure what would happen to Gavin if an altercation occured. But she's not Gavin's mother, and she knows he wouldn't appreciate her babying him; and she has quite a bit of work already to mind on her own. Besides, Nines is on good-boy behavior, and has done nothing mildly threatening since Gavin took his impromptu break.
So why is she so nervous?
She half watches the alleyway as she taps along on her phone, music playing almost inaudibly through her earbuds. She's in civilian clothes this time-a casual windbreaker and simple black pants, a beanie on her head-and has never felt more exposed or unarmored, despite the solid weight of her gun strapped beneath the jacket. She feels a little jealous of Gavin, who wore the same leather hoodie ensemble every day, and wishes she was a Detective already. Maybe then she could wear whatever she wanted and be less anxious now.
A car hums past, slowing as it crosses their line of sight. In unison, both she and Gavin perk up, watching.
She glances up, then looks over at Nines, still sitting ramrod straight and staring blankly out the windshield. He's done nothing since they got there, besides pull off his blazer. Nothing threatening there, and yet she narrows her eyes slightly at him before turning back to her phone.
Her phone buzzes as Elise texts her, and it pulls an unexpected smile from her. She taps some reply, even as Gavin says aloud, "Look alive, folks."
There's commotion going on across from them. Two people, standing between a beaten-down car and a large trash bin, talking. One very animated and agitated, the other barely reacting.
It's already clear which one is the junkie. The dealer wears a baseball cap pulled over their face. The junkie is thin, even more so under clothes too big for them, and with a filthy appearance. The classic Red Ice look.
Already, her hand is on the car door. "How many, exactly? I can only see two."
"There are three." Nines answers smoothly, and its the first thing he'd said since they got there. "One receiver, one dealer, and one enforcer hiding behind that trash bin." His LED glows yellow against the rearview. "The receiver is registered to the name 'William Wassel', and has previous charges of drug abuse, robbery, so on and so forth."
"Anything on the dealer?"
"Negative, Detective. I only have a clear view of the receiver." Nines squints, and Tina swears she can hear a soft whirr of a camera focusing. "So far as I can tell, only the enforcer has a gun. Likely a handgun at best, and likely an older model."
"Still a gun. T?"
Tina feels beneath her jacket and touches the handle of her own firearm, feeling the safety trigger. "I think we'll be fine. It's three against three, and we've all got gunpower. "But there's no need to get involved yet. They're not getting aggressive."
"Are you sure about that?" Even as they watch, William gets more and more anxious, making bigger gestures and yelling with increasingly louder voices. The dealer has no reaction, but Tina can catch a glimpse of movement in the trashbags, can barely spy a black barrel.
"Dammit," She groans, stuffing her phone into her pocket and checking her ammo. "I was hoping it'd be quiet."
"There's no fun in that, T." Gavin opens his own door with a creak. "Let's go."
. . .
Something in Gavin's blood boils, and he feels...excited. Anxious. Scrappy. Ready for a fight.
He hasn't felt like this for a while. There's three people in the alley, as Nines said. Gavin can't see the enforcer, but he sees Nines's eyes trained on the trash bin and knows that he's got it covered. The other two look mostly unarmed-one bearing the thin, wasting look of a junkie, the other dressed in the anonymous, unassuming clothes of a dealer, a hat pulled low over their face.
There's a low anticipation in his veins, hot and thrumming, and it distills the anxious itch irritating his forearms. "Howdy gents," He says, casually, when their appearance is noticed. William Wassel, upon noticing them, looks noticeably more panicked, the angry facade fading slightly. "How you doin', Will?"
It's a damn fool move on Gav's part, but he doesn't want to quietly ship these people off. He wants a fight. He wants to deal a satisfying punch and get punched back, and he wants to feel a bullet whizz past him. He's not sure if he's just confident, with the backup of two competent people with him, or if he's just tossing caution out the door for the sake of his idiot intentions. He can't tell.
He doesn't care.
William blanches, and after a moment's pause, shoots off like a rat past Gavin. Gavin was expecting it, and intercepts him easily; just reaches out with an arm and catches him, and tosses him back on the ground. The dealer hasn't moved all, just standing inhumanly still. Head still bowed with the hat pulled over their eyes, looking unnaturally undisturbed by the sight of his customer being taken out. Well, Gavin has never met an android Red Ice dealer, but there's first times for everything.
"William Wassel, you're under arrest for drug abuse; specifically Red Ice. You have the rights to remain silent, so and and so forth..." He goes on, cuffing the whimpering man in front of him. "And you-" He points to the dealer, who still has not moved at all. It pisses him off, for some reason- the non-reaction, the silence- he wanted something to get angry at, he wanted to take a hit. "-you're under arrest for dealing."
The android standing before him still doesn't react, just takes a step backwards. Then-
Nines staggers backwards as a crack like a whip echoes off the walls of the buildings.