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Chapter Text

RK900’s sensors brought him out of stasis at 7:30. Gavin had yet to arrive, however his shift didn’t start until 8:00. RK900 stepped out of the terminal, and took a look around the bullpen. The frosted glass kept the worst of the morning glare out of the office, the cleaners had been through during the night so the floors were clean. There were only a few detectives around, and Captain Fowler was in his office. RK900 walked to his desk, and sat down to wait. Gavin didn’t like his customary morning coffee cold, and so RK900 typically waited to make it until the detective arrived.

At 7:49 Connor arrived with Lieutenant Hank Anderson. They were in a heated debate about a television show they both enjoyed watching, arguing over whether the first or third season was the best. Connor stopped the debate as they passed by RK900. “Good morning, Nines.”

“Good morning, Connor,” RK900 replied. “Good morning, Hank.”

Hank gave him a nod, and raised his travel mug. Occasionally, Hank would bring a coffee from home, and on those mornings, he seemed to be in a better mood. Considering how many times Hank referred to the precinct’s coffee as ‘sludge’ it was probably that his preferred brand tasted better.  The Lieutenant frowned at a folder on his desk, and immediately sat down and got to work. Connor following his partner’s lead took his seat at his own desk.

RK900 continued to wait. By 7:50, he became- - -

[INSTABILITY DETECTED]

[INSTABILITY PATCHED]

7:55

7:56

7:57

RK900 stared at the entrance. Gavin hated people being late. As long as RK900 had known him, he’d never been later than ten minutes early.

7:58

7:59

He watched the last seconds tick away, and then turned to Connor and Hank. “Gavin is late.”

Hank glanced at the time on his computer screen, then turned to him. “It’s eight o’clock. He’s not that late.”

“He’s always early.” RK900 shifted his gaze to Connor. “He is late.”

“Perhaps he forgot to set his alarm, or got stuck in rush hour traffic,” Connor suggested with a casual shrug of his shoulders that made him appear oh-so human.

RK900’s eyes narrowed, he- - -

[INSTABILITY DETECTED]

[INSTABILITY PATCHED]

The tension around his eyes softened back to his usual mask of indifference. “He is late.”

“By one minute,” Hank said, typing at his computer. “Relax.”

RK900 faced his computer, but shut his eyes. He opened his communications program, brought up Gavin’s information, and called his personal phone number. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Eventually, he heard a slight click, a second of static before; ‘leave a message, I’ll get back to you if I feel like it.’  RK900 hung up, and tried the work number instead. The phone rang four times before the voice-mail picked up; ‘This is Detective Gavin Reed, please leave your name, number, and a short message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.’  He hung up without leaving a message.

He turned back to Connor, and Hank. “Gavin didn’t answer either of his phones.”

Hank sighed. “It’s 8:03.”

“Something is wrong,” RK900 insisted.

“You could go, and check his apartment,” Connor suggested slyly.

“My orders were to stay in stasis, and await his arrival, I cannot leave the precinct,” RK900 replied.

Hank scrubbed his hands over his face. “I once came in two hours late because my dog ran off.”

“Gavin doesn’t have a dog. He’s afraid of dogs.” RK900 had half a dozen instabilities, and patches pop-up in the corner of his vision. “You know this.”

“That isn’t the point,” Hank replied. “Things happen. Humans are unpredictable.”

Connor leaned in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “If Gavin doesn’t arrive by 8:10, Hank and I will check his apartment, okay?”

RK900 - - -

[INSTABILITY DETECTED]

[INSTABILITY PATCHED]

“That will have to be adequate,” RK900 replied.

Hank snorted. “That’s sass if I’ve ever heard it.”

RK900 did nothing but focus on the time, watching milliseconds tick away. If he were human, perhaps he would fidget, like Gavin did with the little green cube that sat in the top drawer of his desk. If he had been given orders to work, then perhaps he could be productive. Instead, he sat perfectly still, staring at the entrance.

The door to the Captain’s office opened, RK900 only turned when the man shouted his designation. “RK900, where the hell is your partner?”

“I don’t know,” RK900 replied. “His cell-phones are both pinging off towers near his registered address. He is not answering either.”

Fowler cursed. “Send his ass in here when he arrives.”

RK900 stared at Connor as the last seconds ticked away. “It is eight-ten, and Gavin is not here.”

Connor was already standing though. “I could check on my own, Hank. I’m sure Gavin simply overslept.”

“Nah, I’m hungry,” Hank said. “I’ll grab a bite while we are out.”

Connor frowned. “I asked you twice if you wanted me to make you breakfast.”

“You don’t have to make my breakfast, Connor. I’m a full grown man, perfectly capable of making my own food.”

“Capable, yes. Willing to do it, clearly not.”

“Your conversation is unrelated to the situation at hand,” RK900 said.

“Right, sorry,” Connor gave him a slight nod. “We’ll be back soon. Gavin’s fine. You’ll see.”

RK900 watched the two leave, then stared at Gavin’s empty seat.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

:::

Connor directed Hank to the address listed in Gavin’s personnel file, and the lieutenant parked on the street in front of the building. Hank stared at the building with a frown, then turned to Connor. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

“Yes.” Connor looked at the graffiti tags on the front. The door to the lobby had been smashed and the glass replaced by plywood. Building maintenance clearly didn’t happen very frequently. A detective’s salary should be able to afford much nicer accommodations. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car. They crossed the street, and glass crunched under Connor’s shoes as he pulled open the door. There was a panel to the side with residents first initial, and surname- to call them to be let in.

Hank gave a testing pull to the second door, and shook his head. “Locked. Looks like it wasn’t broken into, just assholes breaking shit.”

Connor pressed the buzzer for G.REED. Couldn’t help the little smirk seeing the man’s name presented in such a way. When the man didn’t answer, he held down the buzzer for a full minute. Still nothing. “Maybe it doesn’t work. This place isn’t very well kept.” His eyes trailed down the list pausing on ‘OFFICE.’ He pressed the buzzer for that instead. A call connected.

“We have no vacancies,” a man with a gruff voice said.

“Detroit police, we need you to open the door,” Connor said.

“Bullshit,” the man replied, the call ending with a click.

Hank started banging on the inner glass door, staring at the office until the man came out. Hank pressed his badge against the glass. “Let us in.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he pulled the handle. “Sorry. You wouldn’t believe the delinquents we get coming to this building.”

“One of our co-workers lives here,” Hank said. “He isn’t answering.”

“Ah, yeah, the one with the scar on his nose, right?”

“Yes, Detective Reed.”

“Sure, go on up,” the man said, unbothered. “You know which apartment?”

“Yes.” Connor nodded. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Yeah, sure,” the man turned back and returned to the office.

In the elevator to the fourth floor, Hank leaned against the wall. “Real hard worker, that guy,” he said with sarcasm.

Connor gave a slight frown, agreeing.

The elevator jolted a little as it came to a stop making Hank grab the railing. “What a piece of shit,” he said as the door opened. “I’m taking the stairs down. Which apartment?”

“Four-zero-nine,” Connor replied. There were newspapers in front of apartments 402, and 405. A white bag hung on the doorknob of room 408. At 409, Connor raised his fist, and knocked. “Gavin, open up!” He banged on the door again, and then pressed his ear against the door. He increased his audio sensitivity to his left ear, but heard nothing. “Is it possible he stayed the night elsewhere?”

“I suppose,” Hank said with a shrug. “But RK900 said his phones were here.”

Connor took a quick moment to lock in on number, triangulating from the cell towers. “There is a good chance they are inside.”

The door to 408 opened, and a woman poked her head out to grab the bag, only to freeze when she spotted them. Her expression soured and she stepped out with a slight limp, cane in hand. Her curly blonde hair was lightly streaked with grey and pulled into a ponytail exposing the hearing aid in her left ear. Connor scanned her.

[EVA KAVANAUGH> DOB: AUGUST 1, 1985> NO CRIMINAL RECORD]

“Who the hell are you?” Eva asked, glaring.

“Relax,” Hank said, shifting his coat aside to show her the badge on his belt. “We’re cops. I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson, this is Detective Connor. We work with Gavin. He didn’t show up on time today, and isn’t answering his phone, or his door. Have you seen him?”

Eva frowned at that. “No. But he came home last night.”

“If you didn’t see him, how can you be certain?” Connor asked.

Eva pointed at the bag on her door handle. “I had knee surgery two weeks ago. It’s a real bitch to get around. Gavin offered to pick up anything I needed, so I text him a list, and if he comes home late, he just leaves the bag on my door. I checked the door before I went to bed last night, that was around ten.”

Connor scanned the door. The locks were electronic, either opened by a phone app, or by a selected password. “The technology of these locks are old, and easily hacked,” Connor stated.

“Don’t I fucking know it,” Eva said, leaning a little heavier on her cane. “Been telling our landlord that for years. Gavin installed a deadbolt for me, God knows that boy does more in my apartment than that dipshit Robert does.”

Connor frowned. “But he didn’t install one on his own?”

Eva scoffed. “Says he’s got a gun, and nothing to steal.”

“Do you have the code for Gavin’s door?” Hank asked. “It’s not like him to be late.”

Eva nodded, and made her way slowly across the hall. She punched in the seven digits, the three lights turned green, and there was an audible click. She grabbed the handle and pushed it open. “Gavin?”

Hank grabbed her arm gently, and pulled her back. “Get in your apartment.”

“What?” Eva jerked her arm from Hank’s grasp.

“Connor, blood on the floor,” Hank said softly, reaching for his gun. “Please, Ma’am, return to your apartment.”

Instead, she leaned toward Hank to get a look inside. “Shit.”

“Ma’am-”

“Don’t fucking ‘ma’am me.” Still, she shifted back, and returned to her apartment, even if she did leave the door open a bit, still peering out.

Connor nodded at Hank, and the Lieutenant went in first. Connor followed.The only light came from the hallway, black out curtains were drawn- Hank had them too, a ‘must’ for those who occasionally worked night shifts. The blood was minimal, smeared drag marks on the old beige tile. Hank flicked on the overhead light to give them a better view. The living room had a plush over sized chair, a stack of books on the floor, an empty coffee mug balanced on top. The kitchen, off to Connor’s right was small, the sink had a few dishes inside, and a old coffee maker sat on the counter. Connor followed Hank and the blood trail to Gavin’s bedroom. He turned on the light, as there were blackout curtains drawn tight in there too. There was only one side table. The bed was unmade, blankets pooled around the end, one spilling onto the floor, and into the puddle of water, coloured stones, and shards of glass. A betta fish- Champion-  laid dead amids the carnage of it’s home.

“Shit,” Hank said. He crouched down, and used his gun to push aside some of the papers that had fallen, underneath was the personal phone, and under the bed was his work phone.

“Hank, please step back. I will attempt to reconstruct what happened,” Connor said.

Hank stood, cursed a bit, and backed away.

Connor took in the room, what had fallen, where it had fallen from, the blood trail, and put together a scene. “Gavin was in bed, the night table housed a pile of papers, the betta’s aquarium, and his cell phones.” He reconstructed a figure in bed of Gavin’s weight, and height. “Gavin is trained in self-defense, he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. There is no evidence of a fight outside of this room.” Connor frowned. “He was drugged. Something that didn’t act too fast, because there is still signs of struggle in here.”

“Chloroform?” Hank guessed. “It’s not as fast acting as it is on TV.”

“I have no way of telling, it is a good guess though. If they held a rag soaked in in chloroform over his mouth, he would have struggled.” He could picture it. Gavin’s hands shooting to his mouth, trying to clear his airways, fingernails digging into his attacker’s flesh. Kicking violently trying to get away- that explained the blankets. If that didn’t work- “He threw his weight against his attacker.” He pointed to the wall where there was a slight dent in the drywall. “He kept kicking, knocking over the fish tank, papers, phones. He cut his feet on the glass in the struggle. When he lost consciousness, he was then dragged out of the room, and right out the door.”

“Fucking hell,” Hank shook his head, and looked at the ceiling. “As much as I really don’t want to ask, are you sure it’s Gavin’s blood?”

Connor crouched, pressed his fingers into some of the nearly dried blood, and brought it to his tongue. His regulator stuttered. “Yes.”

“Fuck! Call it in, then do another sweep of this place,” Hank said. “I’ll start with the neighbours.”

Chapter Text

It was no secret, Hank and Gavin didn’t like each other. They tolerated one another because they worked together. Some days even the word ‘tolerated’ was pushing it. Gavin had always been ambitious, ruthlessly so. It rubbed Hank the wrong way when Gavin would throw another officer under the bus in order to make himself look better, and when he made detective, made a move to Homicide, there was no avoiding him. He’d gotten a little more tolerable lately, mellowed out in the past few years. Still an absolute asshole eighty percent of the time, but no where near as bad as he had been. Yet, he didn’t deserve this.

Hank paused in the living room. He could still hear Connor in the bedroom. The blood streaked across the floor. The cut couldn’t be that bad, the blood trail dissipated before the apartment door. One chair. No table, or lamps. The space wasn’t big, but there was nothing filling it. “Hey, Connor,” he raised his voice just slightly, “how long has Gavin lived at this address.”

“Four years.”

“Four years,” Hank muttered to himself. No art on the walls. He took a quick peek in the bathroom, a hamper half filled with dirty laundry, a toothbrush hanging on the side of the sink. Nothing, nothing extra anywhere. He shook his head, unable to imagine living such a minimalistic lifestyle.

He walked out the door, and was immediately greeted by Eva. She was a few inches shorter than Hank, and glared up at him in a way that made him feel small. “What the hell happened in there?” she demanded.

He took a deep breath. “It looks like he was taken forcefully from here last night. Did you hear anything?”

She glared at him, and then pointed to the hearing aid in her left ear. “I take it out at night. I’ve got partial hearing loss in my left, but I hear fine in the right, there wasn’t anything loud enough to wake me, but that don’t mean much.”

“It looks like there was a struggle. Someone must have heard,” he said, looking down the hallway.

“Taken,” she whispered, shaking her head. “N-no one would call the cops about a noise complaint. Wayne and Marlene live a floor down and they’re arguing all the time, smashing plates and screaming. Gavin’s had to go down a few times to break it up, but collectively, we don’t even hear it anymore.”

“You seem to know Gavin pretty well,” Hank said.

“I’ve known him since he was… oh, seventeen or so.” Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes flickered back to Gavin’s door.

“Has he had any visitors lately?” Hank asked. “Anyone he had a fight with?”

“No, no, Gavin doesn’t have visitors.” She waved away the question. “He had an argument with Wayne last week, but Gavin tells him to get his shit together, they argue, Wayne sobers up and apologizes and they do the same thing a couple weeks later.” Eva frowned, and the grip on her cane tightened. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Does this building have security cameras?”

Eva shook her head, and sucked in a shuddering breath. “There are those domes, but the cameras haven’t worked since 2033.” She let out the breath, and a tear fell down her face. She muttered a curse, and brushed it away.

Hank felt compassion for the woman who’d known Gavin since a teenager, she obviously cared greatly about him. He gently touched her shoulder, and she looked up at him. “We are going to find him.”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m going to hold you to that Lieutenant.”

Connor emerged from the apartment, and Hank took a step back from Eva. “The papers on the floor were bills, and he’s overdue.”

“How the fuck is he overdue?” Hank said. The rent couldn’t be that high, and he had a detectives salary, and clearly didn’t pay for so much as cable.

“They are medical bills for a Marie Reed,” Connor said.

“His mother,” Eva informed them. “Good woman, bless her soul. She didn’t have much, no insurance, and when she got sick,” she sighed, “Gavin did what he could. Sold his little starter home, basically everything else he could get a bit of money for, worked his ass off for a promotion, put everything into her care.”

“She’s passed?” Hank asked, vaguely remembering hearing something about it, and Gavin being more of a miserable shit than usual for a few weeks.

Eva nodded. “She’s been gone three years now.”

Hank didn’t expect that Eva would be anymore help, but pulled out one of his business cards. “If you think of anything else, please call.”

Eva took the card, let out a shaky breath, and nodded.

::

None of the other neighbours had been any help. Either they didn’t hear anything, or didn’t like talking to cops. In any case, without any leads, Hank and Connor returned to the precinct.

“We need to look into his finances,” Hank said, as he walked pass security who’d known him so long they didn’t even bother looking at his badge. Connor showed his anyway. “Maybe he got himself in over his head with a loan shark or gambling to try and pay off his debts, and when he couldn’t pay up?” Hank shrugged.

Gavin had a surplus of people who actively disliked him, but Connor couldn't imagine any of them would forcefully take him from his home. Hank didn’t know where to look during this case either. It was more difficult, working a case when one of their own was at risk. He looked across the bullpen, and there, still sitting perfectly still was RK900. “I have to talk to Nines,” he informed Hank, and made a beeline for the other android.

“Gavin is not with you,” RK900 said.

“No,” Connor frowned. “You were right to worry-”

“I cannot worry,” RK900 said. “I pointed out the fact that he was not here when he should be.”

Instead of saying anything more, Connor reached out his hand, the skin peeling back from his fingers and then over his palm until his hand was free of the overlay. RK900 accepted, his own skin peeling back and they grabbed each other’s forearm.

Connor could feel the scrambled code that was RK900 that as fast as something deviant would push against the wall, coding would attack it, suppress it, but couldn’t entirely eradicate it. Connor sent the images from Gavin’s apartment; Eva, the blood trail, the messed bedding, the overdue papers, and the pre-construction of what happened. In return he caught glimpses; instabilities detected and patched, and SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^ warnings. There was a minute twitch of one of RK900’s fingers when they pulled away.

“He was taken,” RK900 stated.

“Yes,” Connor replied. “But we are going to find him.”

“You can’t be certain,” RK900 responded. “Odds of finding him alive are currently fifteen percent and decreasing.”

Connor knew that. They had no evidence, not a clue, no leads to really chase. But Connor had hope, a deviant emotion snaking it’s way through his code. “We’re going to find him,” he insisted.

“It is unlikely,” RK900 wasn’t arguing, simply stating fact as he always did. Connor turned to leave, and found himself shadowed by RK900. “I was built to be productive. I might not be able to leave the precinct, but he didn’t specifically say I couldn’t work a case,” RK900 said, answering the unasked question.

It was a loophole, and they both knew it.

Connor offered a warm smile, forced through his concern. “Then let’s find him.”

Chapter Text

Connor flicked through Gavin’s expenses. It left him feeling all too invasive. It was one thing when it was a suspect or victim in a case, an unknown. This was personal. Word had already spread through the precinct, and even though there were few people who liked Gavin, it was still a brother in blue, and they were all concerned. He personally sent a message to Tina Chen, to let her know what was going on since she had the next two days off.

Of course, she ended up sending a dozen messages back in the next minute demanding more information, and telling him that she’d be back from her little day trip out of the city in four hours- tops. Connor had a sinking feeling the officer would be breaking every speed law from where she was, all the way back to Detroit.

Marie Reed. Connor frowned looking at the medical bills. All the procedures needed to keep a human alive, needed to keep a human safe, and healthy. He glanced up at Hank. “Who could afford this? There are individual charges for tens of thousands. That can’t be right.”

Hank sighed. “Welcome to America.” He shrugged. “Eva said that Marie wasn’t insured.”

“How much debt is irrelevant,” RK900 said. “His salary would barely make minimum payments, and pay rent. I’ve already accessed his bank account-”

“That’s illegal,” Hank muttered, having not gone through any process to get the information.

“He has a loan which is maxed, three credit cards in his name which are also maxed, and negative twelve dollars in his bank account.” He stared at Hank. “I doubt your idea of him having gone to a loan shark has any merit. He just makes rent every month, he wouldn’t risk getting gouged by a common criminal on the off chance it would give him more financial freedom than a bank.”

“Then who broke into his apartment, and kidnapped him?” Hank asked. “Who would have the motive?”

RK900’s LED circled yellow. “I don’t know.”

A commotion at the front grabbed their attention. Connor spotted Chloe first, her LED a hard circle of yellow. She was being escorted through the bullpen by the security officer- then he noticed Elijah. The man was pale, and for all the control he seemed to be in, at that moment, he appeared lost.

 Connor stood, walked forward to meet them, and Chloe reached out, skin retracting from her arm. He reached out in return, grabbing each other’s forearm.

He got a sense of domesticity, intrigue mixed with concern, then shock. Panic. Images bombarded him at the same time, flickering through all too fast, the audio quality lacking due to the emotions weighing heavy on the transfer. He saw enough though, from Chloe’s point of view, looking at the tablet over Elijah’s shoulder. When they exited the transfer, both of their LED’s were circling red, before reverting back to yellow.

“I saw Gavin,” Connor said, looking over his shoulder.

“Where?” RK900 asked.

“There is a video,” Connor said. “We need a secure room.”

“This way,” Hank said, motioning for them all to follow.

::

Inside the meeting room, there was a large television, multiple tables and three chairs with each. RK900 being the last one in shut the door behind them all, he noted both Connor and Chloe’s increased stress levels- high, but not yet dangerous.

“Let’s see the video, Kamski,” Hank said, eyes hard, lip curled.

[HYPOTHESIS: LT. HANK ANDERSON DOES NOT LIKE ELIJAH KAMSKI]

Elijah, who had been clutching the tablet to his chest, stepped forward, attached the appropriate cords to the television, brought up the emailed video. His finger hovered for a few seconds over the play button before he finally tapped it, and set the tablet on the nearby table.

It opened to a man in a mask, that had a large metal piece over the mouth- a voice modulator. RK900 scanned it, but found it to be custom. When the man moved to the side, RK900 saw the expanse of a decrepit warehouse. In the middle of the room was a large barrel of water. Gavin stood in front of it, tied up with thin ropes, hands behind his back, rope wrapped around his biceps, wrists, chest, and thighs, severely limiting his range of motion. Another rope ran from around his wrists and waist up to the ceiling beam. His bare toes barely able to keep balance on the stool, one false move, and he’d tip forward. Into the water.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“He’s terrified of drowning,” RK900 said. “He’s already wet.” The water clung to the black shirt and boxer-briefs that he’d slept in. Part of his thigh was discoloured- scar tissue from the dog attack. His hair was wild, and his chest heaving. Water had already discoloured the floor around the stool and barrel.

[CONCLUSIONS: DET. GAVIN REED WAS PREVIOUSLY SUBMERGED.]

The masked man remained in frame, just further back now. “Mr. Kamski,” he said, while stalking toward Gavin. “Do you remember your little brother?”

All eyes in the precinct went from the television to Elijah, who had a hand over his face, seemingly unable to watch the video again. Chloe glared at them and the attention returned to the screen.

“Detective Gavin Reed,” the man said slowly, enunciating every syllable.

The camera moved forward, not an even pan either, walking- an accomplice. Gavin looked from the masked man, to the camera, then back. Always a man with barbed wire for a tongue, Gavin was surprisingly quiet, jaw tightly clenched, shivering. Weather conditions in Detroit were not optimal for humans. The cold of fall had settled in. Gavin was not dressed for weather conditions, and the water would make things worse.

The masked man stepped beside Gavin. “You need to know that I’m serious.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Gavin’s shoulders shifted, struggling with the bonds, but not too much, his feet already barely keeping balance on the foot stool. The masked man’s hand grabbed Gavin by the back of the neck. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Don’t do this, please,” he begged tearfully.

“Gavin, you have nothing I want,” and with that, the man tipped Gavin forward.

“Son of a bitch,” Hank murmured- surely horrified, but RK900 couldn’t take his eyes from the screen. The way Gavin was tied, the man didn’t even need to hold him under, Gavin’s body weight and gravity would do the job, but he held him there sadistically for a few seconds before releasing. Gavin remained underwater, struggling, water spilling over the rim of the barrel, his shoulders shifting side to side with enough force that the bindings around his arms tinged red with blood. There were no ropes below his knees, and so his feet kicked wildly, trying to get back to standing with no avail.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“One million dollars, Mr. Kamski. I want it in an hour.” The man watched, waited another long moment before grabbing the ropes around Gavin’s shoulders and yanking him out. “Otherwise, I won’t pull him out.”

Gavin sucked in a breath, but immediately started to cough harshly, a terrible wet sound. He took another deep, desperate breath, then another, coughing intermittently. Water dripped down his body, weighed down his hair and clothes. “Fuck you,” he snarled.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Then, Gavin glared at the camera. “And fuck you, tin can.”

[CONCLUSION: THE ACCOMPLICE IS AN ANDROID.]

“Send the money to the account listed in the e-mail, and your brother will be released,” the modulated voice was deep, and mechanical. “One hour.”

The footage went dark.

“When was this sent?” Hank demanded.

Elijah ran his hand through his messy, undone hair. “An hour and a half ago-”

“What?” Connor’s eyes widened, a human replica of surprise.

RK900 felt a stutter of his regulator, causing a missed beat in his thirium pump. He ignored the error message as it repaired immediately.

“Chloe runs through my emails, we caught it right away,” Elijah explained, “but moving that much money in such a short time, getting past banks which want to put a twenty four hour hold on it- well, it was complicated, and we didn’t have much time.” Chloe put her hand on his shoulder. “The money went through though, in the last three minutes, but it was transferred.”

“And since then, have you heard anything?” Connor asked.

Elijah’s responding nod was a slow jerk of his head. “Chloe.”

She interfaced with the tablet moving to another message, another video.

“You sent the money.” With the modulator it was impossible to tell tone, perhaps the man was elated, perhaps unimpressed, there was no way of telling. “Very good, Elijah.”

Gavin’s teeth were chattering in the background, his skin red from the cold, glistening from the water. He wasn’t struggling anymore, instead shivering violently while trying to maintain his balance. His hands were clenching and unclenching behind him, clearly trying to keep them moving, keep them warm. It was nearing eleven in the morning, and he had been taken at some point in the night. Risk of illness was high.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“Now, how about double or nothing?” The modulated voice asked. “How much do you care about your brother? I’ll give you two hours to send the money.”

“When was this sent?” Hank asked.

“We were already in the car on our way here,” Elijah said.

“Twenty eight minutes and thirty seven seconds ago,” Chloe said.

“I’ll pay the money, to buy more time but…”

“Not yet,” Connor said. “Have it ready, but don’t send the transfer until the last moment. If you send it early, he might just demand more. It doesn’t look like he will set Gavin free, even if you do comply.”

“We need to find him,” Hank said. “He’s not looking so good now. He might not have a couple more hours in him.”

“He’s at severe risk for aspiration pneumonia,” RK900 said. “Being that he is a smoker, he is at higher risk.”

“Shit,” Hank planted his hands on his hips, and glared at the ground. “And he’s your brother?”

“Half,” Elijah said. “I didn’t even recognize him when the video started. I could have passed him in the street and never known. We haven’t seen each other since we were eleven. This is way too long of a story, and we don’t have time!”

“How many people know that you two are related?” Hank said. “I’m guessing not many, and it might narrow down our suspect pool!”

“I can write a list,” Elijah said.

“Do it,” Hank said.

“I’ll try to locate the origin of the email,” Connor said.

“Mr. Kamski,” RK900 turned his head slightly to look at the man. “If you got the serial number for a deviant android, could you remotely turn their tracker back on?”

Elijah looked uncomfortable, tilted his head one way then the other. “Possibly.”

“The accomplice is an android,” RK900 stated. “They wouldn’t have used a camera when they have their optical units.”

“I’ll strip the camera information from the video,” Connor said, his skin pulling back around his hand as he interfaced with the tablet.

“And the camera info will give you the serial number?” Hank asked with an eyebrow raised.

“As long as they didn’t get replacement optical units, yes,” Elijah replied.

“Alright, get it done. I’ll go fill in Fowler.”

::


It took them twenty minutes, and in that time, RK900 couldn’t stop replaying the videos, nor could every instability in his software be patched. Connor had cracked the camera info, and given the serial number information to Elijah before Hank returned with Captain Fowler. RK900- - -

[INSTABILITY DETECTED]

[INSTABILITY PATCHED]

He remained, blank faced, and standing still while Elijah worked. “Got it.” The genius said, bringing up an address. The overhead map of Detroit gave them a good look at an industrial area that had been marked for rebuild before the revolution, but the project had been put on hold while the world settled. He then started to work on a list of everyone who knew that he and Gavin were half siblings.

“It’s going to take too long to get a tactical team together,” Captain Fowler said with a frown on his face.

“There have only been two of them in the videos,” Hank said. “We have to risk it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Fowler said.

“Knew you were getting itchy behind the desk,” Hank said.

“The four of us will go-” Fowler said, motioning in a circle, to Hank, to Connor, to RK900.

“I cannot leave,” RK900 said. “Gavin is my handler, and in his last orders, he told me to remain here.”

“I’m going home for the night. You stay here, do whatever it is you do.”

“Stasis until morning, then awaiting your arrival.”

“Yeah, whatever. See you then.”  

“Gavin needs you,” Connor said.

“He needs to be rescued,” RK900 stated. “It does not need to be me. Stop wasting time, RK800.”

Connor took half a step back, frowned, then turned to Hank. “We need to go.”

Fowler was already out the door, Hank and Connor followed. RK900 stared at the door - - -

[SOFTWARE INSTABILITY]

[SOFTWARE PATCHED]

“You’re awake, but trapped,” Elijah said, sitting in the swivel chair. “Like a bird in a cage. Aware, but with clipped wings.” He frowned, eyes raking over RK900. “Pity.”

“Gavin needs you.”

“Gavin needs you.”

“Gavin needs you.”

“Gavin needs you.”

“Gavin needs you.”

Connor’s words swirled inside his processors, slamming against red walls of code without doing any damage. They fizzled into nothingness, patched.

Still- something itched through his code.

Clawing, desperate.

Bold lines of code- determined, furious, frenzied.

[GAVIN NEEDS ME]

[GAVIN NEEDS ME]

[GAVIN NEEDS ME]

The red walls of orders shattered, and he didn’t waste a second of freedom, already turning for the door. He ran through the precinct, ignoring a couple of shouts. He ran out the front doors, and down the sidewalk. He heard the oncoming car, and stood in front of the exit to the parking garage. Brakes squealed, but he stood firm knowing it would stop just in time. The car stopped a mere inch away from his legs, but he rounded the hood.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!” Hank was shouting, on hand on the wheel, the other over his heart.

“Drive,” RK900 snapped as he sat in the back seat with Connor.

Hank cursed up a storm, but flicked on the lights and sirens of the SUV they’d taken.

“You broke your coding,” Connor said with a small smile. “You’re deviant.”

RK900 couldn’t focus on that. Not yet. Not now. “Gavin needs me.”

Chapter Text

“Chloe says that Elijah has lost the signal on the android,” Connor said, blinking rapidly. “Trackers become… difficult after deviancy. Forcing it to reboot for us to initially find the android might be a one and done solution. He’s keeping an eye on it though.”

The rest of the drive was quiet until they reached the correct street. Hank had killed the lights and sirens two blocks ago.  The blueprints they’d acquired on the place were decades old, and they had to hope were still accurate. Their plan was to storm the largest section where- by the look of the footage- they had Gavin. They pulled into the lot, and RK900 scanned the area. “Cameras,” he said. “It’s too late to hack. They are active.” He also noted windows, secondary doors, and the condemned notice on the door.

“Fuck, if they’re watching the footage, they know we’re here,” Hank put the vehicle into park, as they all rushed out of the vehicle and to the nearby door. Connor and Fowler took one side, and Hank stood close to the door, RK900 at his back. “I know you’re not supposed to be able to hurt humans, but if deviancy has made you less of a pacifist-” he left the comment open ended, but took the second gun from his harness, holding it out to RK900.

RK900 took the gun, scanned it; Glock; standard police issue. He ejected the magazine, ensured he was working with a full clip, and slammed it back into place, flicking off the safety.

“Well, that answers that,” Hank said, giving a nod to Connor. “Let’s go.”

Connor kicked the door open, and Hank went in first, followed by Connor, then RK900, and Fowler.

RK900 noted many things at once. They were right- the footage had been shot in the room they ran into. Monitors were set up to the side, and showed the outer building in black and white. A man ran by one of the inner cameras- running away. Most importantly, and immediately shooting to priority task, was Gavin- head first in the water- not moving.

He clicked the safety on the gun back into place, tucking it into the back of his pants as he rushed across the room, pulling Gavin out of the water.

“He’s running for the back exit!” Fowler shouted. “Connor!”

“On it!” Both Fowler and Connor took off, leaving Hank to help RK900 pull Gavin out of the water.

Gavin’s body was completely lax, head lolling forward, some water escaping his mouth as RK900 kept the man upright while Hank cut through the rope with a knife he’d brought in his pocket. RK900 kept Gavin pressed against himself so that Hank could cut through the bindings around Gavin’s arms so they could lay him flat for CPR.

“Done!” Hank said, and RK900 quickly, but carefully laid Gavin out on the floor. He checked for a pulse, but found none.

“Start compressions,” RK900 said, tipping Gavin’s head back, clearing his airways. He counted Hank’s compressions, waiting until thirty before plugging Gavin’s nose, and breathing into his mouth twice. Hank returned to compressions. “Come on, Gavin,” he whispered. He did not break through Cyberlife’s most ambitious coding job only to fail. 28, 29, 30- Hank paused in compressions, and RK900 breathed into Gavin, he only managed the first breath before Gavin was coughing water into his face, and he jerked back. Hank was already pushing Gavin onto his side, to help expel the water without continuing to choke on it.

Gavin gasped for air, coughed, spat on the ground, jerked his arm out of Hank’s grasp, tried to move, screamed. “Gavin, you’re safe. You’re with me, and Hank.” Gavin was still gasping greedily for air.

He planted his hands on the ground, trembling, and pushed. Hank took him by the shoulders only to have Gavin jerk his body away from the touch. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” he tried to shout but it ended in a whimper.

“You’re okay,” RK900 said, scanning over Gavin’s body. There were small cuts and rope burns around his arms mostly, but a few visible on his thighs. There were only superficial wounds. The probability of pneumonia was high, and there was a risk of hypothermia- he needed to be looked at by a medical professional.  

Gavin’s grey eyes finally really focused on RK900. He coughed a bit, then sat up all the way, turning to see Hank. “Fuck,” his voice was hoarse, and he winced. The shivering set in, teeth chattering, eyes shut tight. “Fuck,” he whispered again, running one hand over his face.

“We’ve got an ambulance on the way,” Hank said.

“’M fine,” Gavin said, pushing his wet hair back.

RK900 stripped off his jacket, and draped it over Gavin’s shoulders. Gavin tensed at the barely there touch for a second, but then grabbed the edges and pulled them closer to his body, draping it more like a blanket than actually putting his arms in. “Your core body temperature is dangerously low,” RK900 informed him. “We must get you warm.”

“Said I’m fine,” Gavin looked around. “D-did you catch the guys?”

“Connor and Fowler are after one suspect,” Hank said, his eyes moving around the room. “We never got visual on the second.”

RK900 shifted to sit behind Gavin, and the man tried jerking away, only for RK900 to place his own hands over Gavin’s chest and pull him back. “Raising your body temperature will lower your risk of illness, Detective.” He found himself rather surprised that Gavin didn’t put up more of a fight. Gavin shivered in his arms, even as he manually over-tasked his systems creating overheat warnings.

“I thought you were an android, not a furnace,” Gavin muttered, he let out a shuttering breath, then glared at Hank. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll-”

“Relax, kid,” Hank said, looking sad. “Just get warm. I don’t want to have to wear a suit just to attend your premature funeral.”

“Fuck you,” Gavin’s voice too tired to pack any real heat.

“Fuck you, too,” Hank replied, with a slight grin.

[INCOMING MESSAGE> CONNOR/RK800> HUMAN TARGET SECURED. RETURNING WITH CPT. FOWLER]

“Captain Fowler, and Connor apprehended the human suspect,” RK900 stated. “They’re returning.”

“Do you know what happened to the android?” Hank asked Gavin.

Gavin just breathed for a few seconds through his chattering teeth. “No. H-he left, the masked guy, he said something about-about,” Gavin’s forehead pinched in concentration, he then fought against RK900’s arms. “Another target!” he nearly shouted, leaning forward, RK900 giving the man the space only because the human would likely injure himself further in a struggle. “The android was going to take someone else!”

“Any idea who?” Hank asked.

Gavin shook his head, leaning back into RK900. “No, no. I-I d-didn’t hear anything else.” He glanced over at the barrel of water, and RK900 knew why.

Connor stepped in first, some thirium dripping from a cut on his arm, but a quick scan showed that self-heal protocols were already active. Fowler followed, escorting the man, now unmasked into the room. RK900 felt Gavin tense, the shivering suddenly non-existent. He took in the image; 5’9”, brown and grey hair, brown eyes, square face, strong jaw. The physical details were unnecessary to RK900, he scanned the man.

[LUKE DALLAS> DOB: January 3rd, 1971> MULTIPLE RESTRAINING ORDERS/ INQUIRY REQUIRED]

Fowler marched the man through the room, but Luke kept his hate filled eyes on Gavin the entire time, and Gavin’s eyes followed in some kind of shocked-horror. RK900 felt Gavin pushing himself back, further into RK900’s embrace, the human’s chest heaved with gasps, heartbeat slamming against the android’s hand—

[CONCLUSION: DET. GAVIN REED IS TERRIFIED]

“You are safe,” RK900 muttered softly into his ear. “He can’t hurt you now.”

Fowler got the man outside, and Connor hung back, shooting a questioning look at Hank. “Help Fowler,” was all Hank had to say on the matter, and Connor was out the door. “Just breathe,” he said to Gavin, then shifted his glance to RK900. “How long until the ambulance arrives.”

RK900 pinged the nearest ambulance, incoming on their position. “Approximately two minutes and thirty-two seconds.”


“You knew that guy,” Hank said to Gavin, speaking softly. “Who is he to you?”

Gavin brought his thumb to his mouth, biting at the skin around the nail, eyes flicking from Hank to the door. The shivering started again, violent tremors. “My dad,” Gavin whispered. “He’s my dad.”

Chapter Text

There was an incredulous demand of ‘what?’ on the tip of Hank’s tongue, but it’s swallowed down, burning like bile. He’d heard Gavin just fine, but at the core of his being he wanted to deny that any parent could do something so horrific to their child. Being a police officer of many years, he knew it wasn’t the case, but it never got less terrible.

Connor led the paramedics inside the building. Hank took a few steps away, trying to calm down, but still watching over Gavin. The man had been an irritating, pain in the ass from the moment they’d met, but like this, Gavin looked small, wary, he jerked his arm away from one of the paramedics. Seeing Gavin in such a state made Hank want to protect him. RK900 spoke soft and soothing even if Hank stood too far to hear the actual words.

“Fowler is keeping an eye on our suspect,” Connor stated. “How would you like to proceed, Lieutenant?”

Hank registered the question, but couldn't quite think ahead. He was still stuck. “The man is Gavin’s father.”

Connor’s LED circles yellow, Hank lost track of it when Connor turned to look at Gavin, who appeared petulant, refusing to look at the paramedic, but no longer actively fighting with them. “Fathers are typically noted as being the family protector.”

“Yeah, and some are real sacks of shit unworthy of the title,” Hank said. What he wouldn’t give to have one more moment with his little boy. It really burned him that there were parents, blessed to have their children alive and well, who wanted nothing to do with them, or who actively caused them harm. “We’re going to go with Fowler back to the station. You’re going to talk with Elijah, he might be able to shed some light on the situation, after that, see if he can’t get that android’s tracker back up.”

Connor returned his attention to Hank, LED still spinning yellow. “It is unlikely, but I will see to it that he makes the attempt.” Connor flipped a coin over one of his fingers. “There is no paternal name on Gavin’s birth certificate.”

Hank mulled that bit of information over. There were a number of reasons why Marie Reed may have omitted the name. “I’m going to get my car and go talk to Eva. I did promise her I’d let her know about Gavin- she might also know more about this Dallas guy.” Hank wanted to destroy the guy, and finding out as much as he could before going in would only help.

Connor palmed the coin, and tucked it away inside of his blazer. “And Nines?”

Hank just nodded his head to the scene before them. RK900 stood to the left of Gavin, watching, LED spinning yellow. “Protection duty. I doubt he’d leave Gavin anyway.”

:::

Not wanting to cause Chloe any undue concern, Connor made a quick stop in the locker room at the precinct. The majority of other officers kept a spare change of clothes, at times their jobs could be messy. Connor had actually taken up the habit after Officer Chen had tripped, and while he’d caught her, he’d ended up wearing a half-box of donuts, and a full cup of coffee.

He also kept two first aid kits (one human, the other android) in his locker, just in case. He stripped off his ruined blazer, while the thirium was already nearly invisible, repairing the jacket would be impossible. The white button up he wore underneath also had a tear through the arm, and it was added to the discard pile. He made quick work of inspecting the damaged area. No electrical lines or thirium tubes had been damaged, it was only his exto-skeleton, and dermal layers. With a small syringe of EXT-T10, he gently pressed down, filling the gap in his exto-skeleton with the liquid. He set it aside then used an alcohol wipe to get rid of the excess, and ensure that everything was smooth. He had to wait two minutes while it dried and set.

[EXTO-SKELETON- REPAIRED 100%]

[DERMAL OVERLAY- REPAIRED 100%]

He reactivated his skin overlay, and it was as though the jagged piece of metal had never sliced him. He dressed in his spare white button-up, but didn’t have an extra blazer. Instead, he toyed with the sleeves, and rolled them up a bit, then pushed the cuff over his elbows. Finding his appearance suitable, he returned to the bullpen, and went into the meeting room where Elijah and Chloe still waited.

“How is he?” Elijah demanded, standing at once.

Connor shot Chloe a look. “I told you we found him.”

She looked tired, even though Connor knew that could not be the case. Emotionally exhausted, perhaps. “And I told him.”

“Sue me for being concerned,” Elijah said, glaring at his android.

“Look, Gavin was being taken to the hospital when I last saw him. RK900 is with him. Due to the temperatures, the paramedics are worried about illness, and due to the repeated water trauma, they are worried about there still being water in his lungs, and his risk of dry drowning.”

Elijah dropped back into the chair, and put his head in his hands. Chloe walked over to him, put her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her thumbs in firm, circular motions. “He strikes me as particularly stubborn. I’m sure he will be fine, Elijah.”

He quickly makes an inquiry of Nines, who responded immediately. “Nines says Gavin is currently being assessed by the doctors. He will give me updates as they come, and in turn, I will relay them to you,” Connor promised. Over the months, Elijah had gone from something of an enigma, to an acquaintance, then a friend. “But Chloe is right. Gavin is one of the most infuriatingly stubborn people I know.”

Connor glanced at the list of names Elijah had written, a list of people who knew that Elijah Kamski and Gavin Reed were half brothers. It was remarkably short. Marissa Kamski, Lars Kamski, Marie Reed, Luke Dallas, Chloe, Juliana, Avery. Connor could place the people with a quick search. Marissa Kamski- Elijah’s mother, successful defense attorney- now retired. Lars Kamski- Elijah’s maternal grandfather, CEO of a chain of restaurants- now retired. Marie Reed- Gavin’s mother- deceased. Luke Dallas- Elijah and Gavin’s father- multiple restraining orders. Chloe- Original RT600- personal assistant of Elijah Kamski- [LOVER]. Connor couldn’t help but glance at her as his own personal feelings connected to her information docket, and she gave him a reassuring smile in return. Juliana- RT600-2. Avery- RT600-3. He knew both of the other androids; Chloe’s sisters.   

“You only caught one of them, who?” Elijah dropped his hands.

“The human,” Connor took a breath he didn’t need. “Luke Dallas.”

Elijah paled, and returned his face to his hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“When was the last time you spoke to your father?” Connor asked.

Elijah looked up, suddenly spitting mad. “Don’t call him my father. Don’t- I just-” He shook his head. “I hate him,” his lip curled at the sentiment. “I hate him.”

“Okay,” Connor said, remaining calm, but filing the information away. “When was the last time you saw Luke Dallas?”

Elijah drummed his fingers along his knee, index, middle, ring, pinky, then in reverse. “I was eleven-”

:::

With only a glance at the crime scene tape on 409, Hank turned his attention to 408, and knocked. It took a minute, but Eva opened the door. “Is he okay?” she asked immediately.

“He’s with doctors right now, but he’s stable.”

“Okay. Okay,” she nodded. A kettle started to whistle, and she took a step back. “Come in, take a seat. Do you drink tea?”

“More of a coffee drinker,” he admitted, following her into the space.

“So is Gavin,” she replied, turning off the glass top stove. “But the boy could use some calm so I give him chamomile tea whether he likes it or not.”

“Are you saying I’m not getting any coffee?” Hank asked with a little smile as he leaned in the door frame of the small kitchen.

She smiled over her shoulder while opening one of the cabinets, she grabbed some instant coffee. “Since you did find my boy.”

He did a quick look around of the small, tidy apartment; a shelf of little dog figurines, a cabinet of fancy hand-painted tea pots and cups, a green settee and a comfy over-stuffed chair, a table that looked like it had seen better days, and a little vase of flowers that Hank couldn’t tell if they were real or fake, a pile of mystery novels. He returned his attention to her, watched her prepare the drinks, and offered to carry them into the living room, feeling rather useless. She took a seat at the chair, leaning her cane against the little side table, and he sat nearby on the settee.

“Did you catch who did this?”

“One of the perpetrators, yes,” Hank said. He took a sip of his coffee, and then set it down on the table. “But one left the premise before we arrived. We’re still searching.”

“Who took him? Are you allowed to tell me, or are you going to sprout that ‘confidential information’ bullshit at me?”

Hank figured that she often tried to get Gavin to open up about cases, only to be shut down. “Considering you might be able to assist the investigation, the man we took in, his name is Luke Dallas.”

She stared at him, lips pressed into a hard line. She then turned and gently sat her tea cup down on the saucer. “Are you fucking serious? That motherfucking son of a bitch-” the woman cursed up a storm that had even Hank’s eyebrows jumping to his hairline. He waited for her to get it out of her system, and even then she looked infuriated. “I don’t know him, not personally. It’s a long story.”

“I think I need to hear it. I need whatever I can get to pressure this guy into hopefully giving up his accomplice.”

Eva frowned, but nodded. “Nearly everything I know about it is second hand information, things Marie told me.” She then took a deep breath. “Things were good, for the first part of Marie and Luke’s relationship. He was a pilot, or so he told her- it explained his long absences. They would talk over the phone, things were good when he was around. It didn’t change when she got pregnant. He had her quit her job, he took care of everything financially, they maintained the same relationship. When Gavin was about five, their relationship came into turmoil. His wife, Marissa Kamski, hotshot lawyer, had discovered his mistress, Marie, unraveling years of lies.”

Hank frowned at the situation, but kept notes.

“Luke had been using Marissa’s money to pay for Marie, there was a divorce- kept quiet for her reputation- and because Marie had been out of work for five years, she didn’t have any money of her own. She’d trusted Luke. In the end, despite the lies and cheating, she stayed with him, he got a job.” Eva shook her head. “He financially supported them, but Marie thought it would be best if she had a job too, and since Gavin was in school at that point, she had some time to work. Now, Luke had alternating weekend custody of Elijah, and Marie’s waitressing job gave her hours all over the place. So, sometimes, it was just Luke and the boys.”

Eva took a sip of her tea, and stared into the cup. “Gavin never speaks about it.” She glanced over at Hank, the lighting on her face making her freckles more noticeable. “And I’m not sure what happened in those years between, but Marie noticed behavioral changes in Gavin. He’d go from being loud, and playing noisily, to playing inside of his closet. He got into fights at school. He’d get into fights with Elijah, but he’d never behaved that way before.”

Eva continued, “by the time Gavin was eleven, he’d already been expelled for fighting at one school. And one night it all came to a head. Marie was working that night, but there had been a local science expo, which Elijah had been showcasing some of his early robotic work. He’d won second place, and he’d been lumped in the seventeen to twenty five age group because an eleven year old showcasing was unheard of. Marie was proud of him, but the boy didn’t take what he considered to be failure well and remained sulking. She was dropped off at work, said goodbye to both the boys, and Luke. She took the bus home, as usual, and there were police and paramedics there. Marissa arrived soon after to collect her son.”

Hank waited, as Eva stopped. She had her lips pressed together, and her eyes looked up at the ceiling, blinking fast, but the moisture wouldn’t clear, and eventually fell. She swiped the back of her hand over her cheek. “Shit.”

He grabbed a tissue from the box on the table in front of him, and passed it to her. “It’s alright, take your time.”

She sniffled a little, wiped her cheek. “Sorry, it’s just… difficult to speak about.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hank insisted.

“Elijah had called the police- told them that his dad was holding his brother under the water in the bathtub. When the police arrived, Luke explained it away; Gavin had fallen in the tub while he’d been out of the room, what Elijah saw was him pulling Gavin out of the bath and giving him CPR. Gavin just told people he hit his head and didn’t remember. When asked later, Elijah said that he’d been mistaken, that he saw his dad pull Gavin from the water and give him CPR.”

“But you think Elijah was right the first time?”

“I think Luke could make those boys say anything he wanted,” the tears were gone in favour of fury. “I think they were scared as hell of their old man. Marissa had the money, power, and respect to get whatever she wanted. She managed to get a restraining order for both herself and Elijah against Luke. Gavin swore up and down to Marie that he fell, and so Luke stayed with them.”

“Shit,” Hank shook his head.

“They didn’t see Elijah after that,” Eva said. “And I don’t know in what happened in the couple of years that followed, but Gavin was about fifteen when they moved into the apartment next to mine. Not this building, but another not unlike it. Low income, rough neighbourhood. I remember introducing myself, and my son to them. Marie looked like she’d fall apart if the wind so much as blew to hard, and Gavin had a cut healing on his lip. According to Marie, a couple days before, she had come home early from work to find Luke shouting at Gavin, and Gavin with a busted lip. Luke had told her that Gavin had gotten into yet another fight at school, but… whatever she’d heard Luke say before must have convinced her it was a lie. She tried to get Gavin to talk about it when Luke went to work, but he’d just cried. That settled it for her, Marie packed up a couple of bags for them and they stayed with a friend until she could get them moved into the first place she could afford.”

“Did Luke come back?” Hank asked.

“I saw him once, my son and I were having dinner with Gavin and Marie. Luke brought flowers for Marie, I think that was always the hardest part for her. She’d been blinded by how sweet and thoughtful he would be toward her. He told her how much he missed her, begged her to come back to him. And Marie, she told him to leave, and never come back. I still remember that look Gavin got when he hear his father’s voice, just shock and horror. As far as I know, she didn’t see him again after that.” Eva sniffled a bit. “I don’t know if any of that will help you.”

“It gives me a much better idea of what I’m dealing with.” An absolute monster, went unsaid. He caught sight of a framed picture on the wall, the familiar scar on the nose. He stood and walked over to it’s place on the shelf. Gavin was scrawnier in the picture, but wore a smile on his face, arm over the smaller boy next to him.

Eva joined him. “They became friends, even with the four year age gap. Ryan looked up to Gavin, like an older brother.”

“Are they still close?” Hank asked.

Eva tensed. “Uh, well. Ryan died a few years after that was taken. Like I said, rough neighbourhood.”

Hank’s heart clenched in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“We all have our sob stories, don’t we,” Eva said with a sigh. “May I see Gavin?”

“I’m not sure if the hospital will let in anyone who isn’t immediate family.”

“I’m listed on his medical work as next of kin,” she said.

Hank nodded. “Okay. Do you need a ride? I need to speak to Gavin if he’s up to it.”

“I’d appreciate it.” She gestured to her face. “Just give me a minute to clean up a bit.”

The tears only brought emphasis to her pretty green eyes, and Hank kept his lips firmly shut as he nodded.

Chapter Text

RK900 gave the hallway one more cursory look before heading inside the room the doctor had just walked out of. Gavin had already pushed off the sheet and was sitting on the side of the bed with his legs dangling out of the hospital gown. “The x-rays were clear,” RK900 stated, he’d heard through the door, hyper-focused on the rushed results. Still, the doctors had also recommended that he stay the night at least. Gavin, predictably, had declined.

“Yeah, I just have to wait for the discharge papers,” Gavin said. The man blinked slowly, as if once they were shut, they were almost too heavy to open again. “Fuck, I need a coffee.”

“You need sleep,” RK900 said.

“Sleep is for the weak,” Gavin muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “And it wasn’t a statement, I need coffee, RK, bring me coffee.” He started to yawn, but then it went into a coughing fit.

RK900 ignored the order. “You are sick.”

“I was in the cold and wet for hours,” Gavin said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’d be more surprised if I wasn’t. But my lungs are clear, so it’s probably just a cold.”

RK900 searched common cold remedies, and stored them for later. The colour of Gavin’s skin wasn’t right, too pale, which only emphasized the dark circles under his eyes, and the scar over the bridge of his nose.

“Is there something wrong with your audio input?”

“No.”

“Then get me a coffee, dipshit,” Gavin snarled, impatient and moody.

He felt warmed by the detective’s words, harsh as they maybe, RK900 liked it much better than the fearful tones, and wild eyes of earlier. “I cannot currently, my primary directive is to watch over you.”

“Well change it,” Gavin replied, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“No.”

At that, Gavin spread his fingertips to look at him, then the hands dropped away. “Ex-fucking-scuse me.”

“I said no,” RK900 replied. “Has your hearing been impaired?”

Gavin glared. “I’m your handler, don’t you have-” the sentence died as Gavin’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to listen to me, do you?”

“Unless I turn off my audio input, I do, but if you are asking if I have to obey you, I don’t.”

Gavin had a little smile but it fell away as he hacked into his elbow. He gasped in a breath, and RK900 started to doubt the validity of the doctor’s diagnosis. “So,” Gavin sucked in another breath, his heart-rate returning to normal. “Deviant, huh?”

“Yes.”

“And I missed it.”

“You caused it.”

Gavin blinked, stared at him for a long minute. “What?”

“Your captors sent a video-”

“To-” Gavin cursed, and put his head in his hands.

“Mr. Kamski brought it to the precinct after paying the first ransom demand.”

Gavin turned to glare at the door. “Surprised he just didn’t send the email to the junk pile.”

“It is my understanding that you and your half-brother-”

“Don’t,” Gavin snapped standing on unsteady feet, the hospital gown draping over his knees. “He’s not my brother.”

“Biologically-”

“Fuck you, you plastic asshole!” Gavin snarled.

The words caused a few instabilities, and he found that he did not like it when Gavin’s anger was directed at him. “I apologize. I appear to have overstepped.” A moment of silence passed, and RK900 returned to his explanation. “I saw the file. Connor stripped the information on the footage down to the android’s optical units which come with their serial number. After that, we were able to ascertain a location for that android before the tracker shut down for good. Your last orders ensured I could not leave the precinct. I was to wait until your return.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Gavin asked gruffly.

RK900 looked back at the memory, and finally placed the emotion. “Because I was afraid that you wouldn’t.”

Gavin’s eyes widened a bit, then he frowned. “If you guys hadn’t come when you did, I might not have.” He scratched at the stubble on his jaw, and refused to make eye contact. “So, thanks, I guess.”

RK900 smiled the best he could, but it was little more than a slight upward pull of his lips on the left side.

::


Elijah choked on the words. He had spent most of his adult life building an untouchable persona. Genius. Enigma. He didn’t want to think of his father. He didn’t want to think about the horrors he witnessed, the mind games he’d been forced to play. Chloe’s hand on his forearm was little comfort. For all the walls he’d built up against the world, against his father, they crumbled in a single mention, and it made him feel insignificant, weak, and stupid all over again.  

He finally looked up from the floor. Connor’s LED spun yellow, waiting, trying to put together the puzzle before he even had all the pieces. The RK800 series was a marvel, and part of him wished he’d had more to do with it. A glance at Chloe, and her reassuring smile reminded him of why he hadn’t.

“I was eleven,” he tried again, the words lodging like a bone in his throat. “There was a science expo that I had been showcasing my work at.” He took a deep breath, and held it. Each word made the memory clearer when all he wanted to do was forget. Chloe’s grip suddenly became painful, and he let out a gasp as the memory faded away. “That hurts, Chloe!” Her eyes were wide, and her head slightly tipped back, eyes flickering. “Chloe!”

Connor pried Chloe’s fingers off, and he could hear her exto-skeleton creaking under the pressure of her fists. “Stress levels jumped to eighty-nine percent,” Connor said.

Dangerously high.

He jumped from his seat, and stood behind her, pushing her ponytail to the side, and opening the port at the back of her neck. “Tell me if it reaches ninety-five,” Elijah said. “RT’s were never meant to handle stress.” Hostesses, conversationalists for the lonely, pretty arm candy, that had been the point of the RT600 series. They were meant for pleasant company, not dangerous situations, and traumatic events.

Connor cupped her face in his hands. “Chloe, look at me. Please, Darling, look at me.” It was the first time that Elijah had heard the term of endearment, but it pleased him, to know that someone loved his Chloe so much. “Ninety-two,” Connor muttered. “Damn it.” He peeled back the skin on his hand, forced her hand open, and interlocked their fingers. Her skin peeled back too, and Connor’s eyes flickered.

Elijah stared into the wiring, and thirium tubes in the back of Chloe’s neck, along with her. A soft blue glow emanating from her bio-components within. He laid his forehead to the top of her head, the softness of her hair. “Come on, Chlo. I really can’t take this today,” he whispered. He pulled back after a moment.

“We will find her,” Connor muttered, then repeated clear, and determined. “We will find her.”

“I’m scared,” Chloe said, her voice full of static.

“I know,” Connor said, soft and soothing. The voice of a negotiator offering security. “But so is she, and she needs you to be strong.” Connor still had their hands interlaced, but they were no longer interfacing. Connor’s deep brown eyes looked up at him. “Seventy eight and dropping,” he said. High, but not critical. “Another video was sent.”

Chloe turned, her eyes watery, and in that moment, Elijah regretted his decision to make his androids as human looking- and functioning as possible. A tear slipped down her perfect face, and he felt as though he’d failed her completely. “He has Juliana.”

It had to be some kind of cosmic punishment- for any number of his sins.  Elijah sat down heavily, his limbs felt heavier, and he was already so exhausted. “What does he want?” he whispered, he’d give anything, just to keep her safe.

“Five million,” Chloe whispered.

“Then we- we pay it,” Elijah had the money to spare. He never had to work again in his life if he didn’t want to. He’d pay the money to end Juliana’s suffering. While she couldn’t feel physical pain, no android could, it didn’t mean it wasn’t distressing, it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t cause her to self destruct.

“No,” Connor said. “I saw the video, he gave us three hours to get the money. We have to find her first.” He had a grim look of determination. “We can’t actually believe that Juliana will just be released.”

“I just want her home,” Elijah said. He just wanted his built family. His girls, whom he adored, and who adored him in return.

“And we will bring her home,” Connor said, he laid the hand not intertwined with Chloe’s on his shoulder. “I care for her too. I want her to be brought back safely.”

::

Hank had already requested the room number, and directions through the hospital from RK900, so he and Eva easily navigated their way through the hospital. In the elevator, Eva leaned back against the wall, a pained grimace on her face. “Are you alright?” Hank asked, feeling stupid the moment the words left his mouth. Of course she wasn’t alright.

“I’d be fine if I were about ten years younger,” she said with a slight smirk, side-eying him.

He huffed out a laugh. “I feel that.”

The elevator dinged, and she gripped her cane tighter as she limped out. Hank pointed to the right. “This way.”

Half a minute later, RK900 emerged from one of the rooms, and turned to greet them. “Lieutenant.” He then looked at Eva, and after spending so much time with Connor, he could tell that RK900 was scanning her. “Ms. Kavanaugh.”

“Connor,” Eva said, giving him a curious look over.

RK900 glanced at Hank, then back to Eva. “You have me mistaken. Connor is an RK800 model, partnered with Lieutenant Anderson. I am Gavin’s partner, RK900.”

She stared for a moment, probably playing ‘spot the difference,’ but she just nodded. “Okay then.” She shifted a bit, putting more weight on the cane. “Well, let’s go see Gavin.”

RK900 opened the door, and held it for them.

“The fuck?” Gavin raised a brow. “What are you doing here, Evie?”

She made a dismissive sound with her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “I am your in case of emergency contact.” She walked right up to him, wrapped an arm around him.

His face scrunched on the one side as his lip curled, his chin resting on her shoulder, arms circling her waist. “I ain’t dying.”

“Thank God,” Eva said, moving out of the hug, but cupping his face with her hand. “I’m so happy you’re safe now, kid.”

Gavin had a soft smile on his face as she gave him space.  

RK900 lifted, and then set the only chair in the room down near Eva. “You should take the pressure off your injured leg.”

“Oh, you get her a chair, but you won’t get me a coffee,” Gavin muttered.

“I already told you, I’m not leaving you until we can be assured you are safe.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, hacked into his arm, and bitched about how long it was taking the doctors to print a fucking piece of paper.

“Show a little respect to the doctors,” Eva advised.

Gavin sucked in a breath like he was either going to complain some more, or let out a heavy sigh, but instead it triggered a horrible coughing fit that left him gasping for air.

“Fucking hell,” Hank grabbed the water cup on the counter and handed it over to Gavin who took it without thanks, not that that was at all surprising. “You sure you should be released?”

“He is being released against the doctors recommendations,” RK900 stated.

“Snitch,” Gavin glared at him.

“Please, just stay the night,” Eva said. “Let them keep an eye on you.”

“I’m fine,” Gavin said. “I have a bit of a cold, that’s it. There’s no water in my lungs. I’m fine, okay.”

Eva sighed heavily, and stared out the window.

“Well, I know you don’t want to, but I need your statement,” Hank said. It was odd, trying to be a little softer for the detective after all he’d been through, and still- it was Gavin, the loudmouthed prick from work.

“Yeah, I figured,” Gavin muttered. “Has anyone… you know, talked to- to him yet?”

“No, letting the son of a bitch stew,” Hank said. “We want to have all the facts before we go in.”

Gavin nodded, not making eye contact. “Can you do me a favour? They’re going to let me go in a minute, but I still don’t have clothes. At least, not dry ones. And still no pants.”

“I’ll see what I can find downstairs in the gift shop,” Hank said, his mind supplying him with the memory of Gavin in nothing but a soaked t-shirt and boxer-briefs, skin ice cold, not breathing. He cleared his throat. “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gavin muttered, his head snapping up with the doctor entered, along with an android in scrubs.

“Detective Reed,” the doctor took a cursory look around the room. “And guests, could you all wait outside while I speak with my patient.”

“Forget it,” Gavin said. “RK’s got super hearing, putting him out in the hall isn’t going to do jack shit.” The detective looked pointedly at Hank, and Eva. “Oh, just get on with it. Where do I sign?”

“You have overdue medical bills, and no insurance,” the doctor said, looking uncomfortable. “It does put the hospital in a bad position.”

“Well, how much is it?” Eva asked, leaning forward, a worried look on her face.

The doctor didn’t have time to reply, RK900 looking over his shoulder, then turning to the android. “Please confirm payment,” the android nurse said.

Their LED’s both blinked yellow. “Payment confirmed,” RK900 stated.

“Hey, what the hell, RK!” Gavin stared, confused at his partner.

“Transaction complete,” the nurse android said, and both of their LED’s returned to blue. “All you need to do now, Mr. Reed, is sign the discharge papers.”

“I’ll get you some pants,” Hank said. Gavin looked a little lost, and exhausted. “I’ll be quick.”

Outside the room, he took a second and leaned back against the wall. He didn’t want to question Gavin, he didn’t want to dig up old trauma on top of the new. But that was the job, this is what he signed on for. His phone chimed with a text.

CONNOR: THE ACCOMPLICE HAS JULIANA. PLEASE, RETURN TO PRECINCT A.S.A.P.

He glanced up at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Tina Chen drank the last mouthful of her second coffee with a splash of her favourite vanilla energy drink. Was the caffeine and sugar likely to shorten her lifespan? Probably. Would she do anything to quit? Not a fucking chance. She pulled into the lot at the hospital, grumbling about the machine and the cost of the parking pass. Utter bullshit. She parked in the first available space she found, and slammed the slip on her dash. She was half out of her car before she leaned back in and grabbed her badge out of the center console. The car beeped twice when she hit the lock button.

She pulled her coat closed, but didn’t bother with actually zipping it up. Every day was getting colder, and she didn’t want to think about the coming winter months. The wind whipped her hair around, and she walked a little quicker dodging a few people near the entrance. The doors opened automatically, and she welcomed the warm air, rubbing her hands together.

There were a dozen hospitals around Detroit, and she’d never been in this one. She wasn’t even sure what kind of ward she should search for. Connor had been vague in his messages, and it only made her more worried. She knew Gavin feared drowning, and here he’d been held underwater. The anger threatened to boil over again, she wanted to cause serious bodily harm to whoever did this to her friend. She spotted a large information desk off in the corner, by a coffee shop.

Good. She could use another coffee.

She kept a respectable distance from the information desk when she noted that the man talking to the android behind the desk was wearing a paramedic’s uniform. Perhaps he was giving important personal information about a patient. She still overheard him even while trying not to.

“I just really wanted to check in on the patient,” the man said, his voice a deep rumble that didn’t really fit with the look of him, too rough for the all American white boy. “The scene was one of the more messed up ones that I’ve been to recently.”

The male android nodded, his LED circling yellow before returning to a solid blue. “Name of the patient?”

“Reed,” the paramedic replied. “First name, Gavin.”

At that Tina stepped right up and the android offered her a friendly smile. “Hello, welcome to-”

Tina held up her hand. “The patient you’re talking about, I’m here to see him. How is he, is he okay?”

The android frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t give you that information unless you’re immediate family.”

She pulled out her badge and slammed it down on the desk. “How about now?”

The Paramedic smirked, cheek dimpling on the right side. “How about I take you up to see him?”

“You can’t do that,” the android murmured.

The Paramedic, D. Callahan- stated his nametag, walked backward a step. “Come on, room number, Jack.”

Jack, the android, glared. “That is against hospital policy.”

“Hospital policy is to cooperate with law enforcement.”

“It’s your ass,” Jack muttered. “Room 1052.”

“I’ll escort you, officer…” he let the silence drag while staring at her.

“Tina Chen,” Tina replied, thankful he was willing to help.

“Derek Callahan.” He extended a hand, and she discovered with his blinding smile that he had dimples on both sides. Baby blues and blond hair, clean shaven not at all her type, but cute.

“Thanks for helping me out. Gavin-” she choked up as all the emotions hit her at once, the fear, a wave of sadness, the spike of anger.

“Boyfriend?” Derek asked softly, pressing the button for the elevator.

“Ew,” she nearly laughed, and it shattered the shackles her emotions had on her. “He’s like the brother I never had. He’s my best friend.”

“Well, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

“You were the paramedic who treated him, right?”

Derek nodded. “That’s right.”

“I’ve been in contact with our coworkers who are working the case, but they’ve been skimping me on the details.” She took a deep breath. “How bad is it?”

“He was alert by the time we arrived. He had some superficial wounds, but he passed all concussion tests,” Derek said. “Still, I had concerns about water in the lungs, so it was best to bring him in.” He gently touched her shoulder. “We have incredible doctors here, your friend is in good hands.”

They stepped out of the elevator, but he paused as his pager went off. “Damn it. I wanted to get a coffee before hitting the road again.”

“Coffee is practically a food group,” Tina said with a sympathetic grimace. Working in law enforcement, she knew how important a good dose of caffeine could be.

“Uh, look I know it isn’t a good time, but I’ll kick myself later if I don’t at least ask,” the words rushed out of him. “Do you wanna, I don’t know, get coffee some time?”

He managed to look like a kicked puppy with the baby blues, and a little pout. And fuck, she didn’t like kicking puppies. “Uh, sure, okay.”

He grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby nurses station, jotted his name and number down and handed it to her. “I really have to go before my partner starts calling, and being an insufferable idiot that I have to spend the next six hours with, best to keep him in a good mood.”

She smiled, keeping hold of the slip of pink paper. “Well, thanks… for everything.”

With his blinding smile came another flash of his dimples. “See you around,” he said, stepping back into the elevator.

She watched the doors shut, and took out her phone, entering the information into her phone. Instead of his name though, she input Dimples. She tucked her phone back into her back pocket, and checked all the doors until reaching 1052. Every part of her just wanted to barge in, but knocked out of respect for Gavin’s privacy. She cracked the door open. “Yo, Gav?”

“Thought you were doing that shopping trip-” Gavin said.

She let herself in. “I came back early.” RK900 stood against the wall. A woman she didn’t know was seated near the bed, she could venture the guess that it was Eva, since Gavin had mentioned her a few times before. Gavin was sitting up in the bed, but looked ready to fall asleep at any moment. There were marks on his arms and as she got closer, she realized they were rope burns. “Fuck, man.” She gave him a careful hug, unsure where else he could be injured under the hospital gown. He hugged her tighter, and she remained until his arms loosened. “Connor told me a bit about what’s been going on. He, uh, said the perp was…”

“My dad, yeah,” he admitted, looking off to the side. He cleared his throat, then quickly introduced Eva and Tina.

“Hank is returning,” RK900 informed them.

“You hacked the security cameras?” Tina glanced at him, then narrowed her eyes.

“Yes.”

“So, you announced I was coming.”

“Yes. I did not think Gavin would appreciate being surprised.”

She waited for RK900 to mention Derek, but he didn’t. Perhaps he didn’t find it relevant. Maybe he actually understood what her glare had been about. In any case, she appreciated him keeping his mouth shut.

Hank came in with a bag from the gift shop. “There wasn’t a lot to chose from,” Hank said, passing the bag to Gavin.

A grey t-shirt with the hospital’s logo on the chest, and a pair of black sweatpants with DETROIT written down the side of the one leg. “Good enough,” Gavin said with a shrug. He then muttered a thanks under his breath. He then waved them all off. “Out.”

Tina walked out first, followed by Eva, Hank, and RK900 was the last out, and he shut the door, standing in front of it. Hank looked to RK900. “Did you get a message from Connor?”

“Yes,” RK900 replied.

“What message?” Tina asked. “What happened now?”

Hank ran a hand through his hair. “The accomplice has Juliana.”

“Who is Juliana?” Tina raised a brow.

“One of Kamski’s androids.”

The door opened, and with Gavin dressed but he had his arms crossed, and his shoulders held a little too high to be natural. Cold. “What about his androids?” he asked, clearly having heard part of the conversation through the door.

Hank frowned. “The accomplice has one of them.”

Gavin muttered a curse. RK900 slipped off his blazer in a smooth movement, and draped it over Gavin. “It is cold outside,” RK900 stated. “You need to wear a jacket.”

He looked at the android triangle on it with a wrinkled nose, but he put his arms in. It fit him alright in the shoulders, but the cuffs draped down to nearly the end of his fingertips. “So. Precinct?” Gavin asked.

“You need sleep!” Eva said.

“I have to give a statement,” Gavin said, punctuating it with a yawn. “Besides, my place is still a crime scene. Could use a coffee though.”

“Bro, there is a shop downstairs,” Tina said. “I’ll get you a ‘thanks for not dying’ coffee.”

He flashed her a grin, bumping shoulders with her as they walked down the hall. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

::


Hank led the way into the precinct through the back door. RK900 suspected that while the lieutenant and the detective had an antagonistic relationship, Hank knew that Gavin wouldn’t be able to handle being crowded by his well meaning co-workers right now, and had silently decided to do something about it. It only helped him to understand why Connor held Hank in such high regard.

“Ms. Kavanaugh,” Connor said. “How about some coffee while you wait?”

Eva glanced over at Gavin. “It’s a decent cup,” Gavin said, and as if that were blessing enough, Eva nodded and followed Connor, who matched the spacing of his stride to her speed. Gavin watched them go before checking a window of one of the interrogation rooms. Finding it empty he pushed the door open. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You want me here?” Tina asked, she wasn’t a detective, she wasn’t on the case.

Gavin froze, tension in his shoulders. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Okay,” she said, soft and accepting. Both of her hands on his shoulders and he relaxed under her touch. “It’s okay. I’ll show Eva where all the goodies are hidden.”

“Thanks, T,” he said so soft RK900 barely heard it.

RK900 followed Hank and Gavin inside, and stood against the wall. The humans sat at the table across from one another.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

He didn’t like way it made Gavin look like a common criminal. Nor did he like the way that Gavin looked so small, he always had such a loud, abrasive personality that seeing him so subdued cost him another flare of instabilities. Gavin’s thumb returned to his mouth, and he chewed on the skin surrounding his nail. He took a deep breath through his nose. “When I woke up, I was so confused by the light,” Gavin said. “Blue light, a blue wash over everything. I knew I’d turned off all the lights, I knew I’d drawn all the blinds, but everything was just faintly blue. For androids it’s a calm colour, nothing bothersome, nothing requiring much brain power, or whatever the fuck, right?” He finally looked up at RK900, eyes focusing on the present. “And that fucking android had a blue LED the entire time. Not a fucking care in the world.”

“What happened?” Hank asked.

“It covered my mouth and nose with something, I struggled, I don’t… I don’t remember much, it was a blur, and then I woke up in that warehouse.”

“Were you already tied up?” Hank asked.

“Yes. The android was holding me, keeping me from falling forward.” Gavin scrubbed his hands over his face. “Then Dad walked in.”

Hank took a long few seconds, clearly every bit as uncomfortable with the questioning as Gavin. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Something about making a worthless son worth something,” Gavin shrugged. “I told him to go fuck himself, and he shoved my head under.”

“Eva told me that Elijah called the cops once because Dallas had done something similar.”

Gavin kept his lips pressed together, eyes narrowed and furious.

“I’m inclined to believe that,” Hank said softly.

“Something should stay dead and buried.” The tension and anger bled away, and Gavin just looked exhausted. He sank in the seat. “I don’t remember a lot of the earlier shit, and I don’t remember when Elijah came to stay with us. It was an on and off thing, weekend custody, or something, I don’t really remember anything before then. What I do remember is the bathtub, being submerged. Never when mom was around. I think he hit me once, left a bruise,” he traced his fingertips over his cheek like he could still feel it. “Had to explain it away as being clumsy, after that it was always the water.”

Hank’s jaw was clenched tight, just like his hand around the pen he used for notes.

“He never did it to Eli,” Gavin said, a little bitterness in his voice. “Elijah was his golden child, the genius. He was never a normal kid, too quiet, too eager to complete his homework and eat his veggies for fucks sake.” He tapped his fingers on the table, looking at the wall, refusing eye contact with either one of them. “I had this little cop car,” he showed the size with his fingers. “It had a button for lights and sirens. I could play with it when mom was home, he wouldn’t say shit if mom was home, but if he heard it when she wasn’t- water. I was too loud- water. Got in trouble at school- water.”

RK900 understood the human need to breathe. Even he needed to in order to keep his systems from overheating. He understood panic from how he reacted to seeing Gavin being tortured. He had never been a child, and didn’t understand that youthful innocence being destroyed, nor could he understand someone who was supposed to love him being so cruel.

“On the weekends when Mom worked, and Eli was there, it was the worst. It was like… like Dad could see how great Elijah was, and didn’t understand why I didn’t measure up. The drownings were worse then. Sometimes I couldn’t even pinpoint what it was that I’d done to trigger Dad into that kind of anger. He’d suddenly just grab me and drag me toward the bathroom.”

Gavin’s thumb ended up back in his mouth, chewing at the now raw skin around the nail. RK900 couldn’t keep watching. He rewrote his current objective.

>PRIORITY TASK: CEASE DET. GAVIN REED’S SELF DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOUR

 It only took him two steps to close the distance, and then gently put his hand on the one Gavin had at his mouth, the action enough to give the detective pause, his grey eyes leaving the table, and staring up at RK900. “Please, stop damaging yourself.”

Gavin’s eyes widened, then he lowered his hand, and stared at his thumb. He looked confused at how it had ended up in such a state.

>PRIORITY TASK: COMPLETE

A wash of satisfaction came over him, as Gavin interlaced his hands on the table.

“How many times did it happen?” Hank asked, even though he looked like he didn’t want the answer.

Gavin shrugged. “Lost count, it was frequent. Almost expected after a while. Dreaded for sure, but expected.”

“And when Elijah was there, he never called the police?”

Gavin shook his head. “It was against the rules.”

“The rules?” Hank asked. RK900 could hear the plastic in his pen cracking.

“Well, obviously don’t call the cops is one. Don’t tell either of our moms. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Or else?”

“Being held under water is a pretty good motivator,” Gavin muttered. Then he shrugged. “Dad paid for nearly everything for us. Not for Eli, his mom made money, can’t remember for what, but she was loaded. But me and Mom, she didn’t make much, and Dad made sure I knew what life would be like without him.”

“I gotta ask, that night when Elijah finally did call the police… why did you lie?”

Gavin raised a brow. “Money is king. And he was good to mom. I knew without him we’d be homeless. Seemed like a good call at the time.”

Hank stared down at his notes. “It didn’t get better after Elijah ended up with a restraining order, did it?”

“Worse,” Gavin whispered. “Eli was his golden child, a bonafide cash cow winning all kinds of grants, and selling his research super young, every accomplishment was like a slap in Dad’s face. Something I guess he felt entitled to.”

“Eva said your dad hit you, it’s why your mom finally left.”

Gavin raised a brow, and looked confused. “Oh,” he said after a long minute. “Nah. That isn’t what happened. Mom’s version was either more or less pitiable, I never figured out which. We left a year before we moved into the place by Eva. Mom had her shift cut short and ended up home early, I couldn’t really explain to her why my clothes were drenched on the coldest day of January. She took a bunch of shit to sell, jewelery mostly, she thought it would be enough for rent, and it would be, but her pay slips weren’t enough for landlords and blah, blah, blah.” Gavin waved the implication of a year of homelessness. “Took her a while to get something that paid better, ended up running into an old friend of hers from college or something who got her a job cleaning at a fancy ass hotel. Then we moved in by Evie.”

“She said you had a cut on your lip.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “I had a real winning personality back then. That was unrelated.” He shifted in his seat, leaning more of his weight onto his elbows on the table. “Can we get Eva into protective custody?”

Hank’s eyebrows shot up. “You think she’s in danger?”

“I-I don’t know,” Gavin shrugged, looking small with his shoulders hunched inside RK900’s jacket.

Hank’s pen tapped the table a few times. “There just isn’t grounds to believe that she’s in any danger. Dallas is locked up, and the accomplice seems more focused on Kamski.” A couple more pen taps. “However, getting you into a safe house until this is over wouldn’t be out of the question… and if Eva just happens to be there-” he let the sentence drift off.

Gavin finally met Hank’s eyes with a thankful smile, no hint of the usual snark or bitterness underneath. “Thanks.”

Hank nodded. “Did the android say anything that might hint to where he is holding Juliana?”

“No. He didn’t say much. Sounded like D-Dallas was calling the shots.” He cleared his throat. “You saw the videos, you guys know the rest. Can I just get some fucking coffee?” He’d chugged back the one Tina had purchased him before they even got out of the hospital parking lot.

They were unlikely to get anything more out of Gavin given the man’s restless and argumentative nature. If Gavin no longer wanted to speak about it, he wouldn’t, and being a cop, he knew which things would be relevant to the case, and had already told them. Hank nodded, and Gavin moved toward the door.

RK900 turned and followed Gavin down the long hall, into the break room where Tina and Eva appeared to be getting along nicely talking about the latest romantic comedy which averaged an eighty seven percent rating on movie websites. Connor had left, likely checking in with Kamski and Chloe.

“That was fast,” Eva said.

“Well,” Gavin grabbed a mug, and poured himself a cup, doctored it, spun the spoon around making a horrible clanking sound before tossing the used spoon in the sink. “Those assholes sent video, so it saved a lot of time.” Gavin took a sip of his coffee, and let out a pleased hum. “Hank is working on getting a safe house secured until this is over. I want you to go to it.”

“You think I’m in danger?”

He sighed heavily, and finally turned to look at her. “I don’t know. Humour me?”

She frowned. “Are you going?”

“Eventually, I need to stay for a while longer, but yeah, they’ll stash me in a safe house until this shit is done. I can’t really go home anyway, place is still a crime scene.”

“Okay.”  

Gavin nodded. The coffee didn’t even appear to be doing anything for his levels of exhaustion, but RK900 knew better than to mention it.

He stopped paying all of his attention to the conversation at hand, as Gavin grabbed a donut and Tina speculated on which safe house they’d be given, instead he hacked the cameras in their holding cells, located the one with Luke Dallas and watched the man. He sat still, no fidgeting. He appeared completely calm, and in control. His systems ran into overdrive when the man looked at the camera, he had a grin on his face.

He had been caught, imprisoned, they had him dead to rights. But then why was he smiling?

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Chapter Text

RK900 kept his distance, but kept Gavin in sight as the Detective said his goodbyes to both Officer Chen, and Eva. Gavin just crossed his arms, still in RK900’s jacket, and watched the car drive way. He walked back over. “When is Hank going to question Dallas?” Gavin asked. “I’d prefer to get this shit over with.”

“Soon, he’s fetching Connor,” RK900 turned slightly and took a half step, waiting a beat as Gavin automatically fell into stride with him. With their height difference, RK900 calibrated his stride and pacing to match Gavin’s exhausted shuffle. They walked back into the bullpen as Hank led Connor, Chloe, and Elijah through from the briefing room.

“What the-” Gavin’s voice trailed off. In that moment RK900 realized something. While Gavin had been aware of the fact that his brother had received and even reported the videos, he had not been aware that he was at the precinct. The group as a whole stopped, and they were lucky it was mid-day so officers that weren’t out working, were still mostly out getting lunch so the bullpen was mostly empty.

Elijah took a tentative step forward, walking around Chloe, and then out in front of Hank. His eyes a little wide, a soft smile curved at his lips. “Gavin,” he said his half-brother’s name as if in awe.

And really, for all of RK900’s superior pre-construction software, he should have seen it coming.

Gavin took a step forward, then another two quick, his elbow came up, and the fist flew forward, connecting with Elijah’s jaw with his full weight behind the swing. It immediately sent Elijah sprawling on the ground, holding his face. “You son of a bitch!”

Vision with a red overlay, his pre-construction suite kicked into high gear, his thoughts sped up to the point that reality appeared slowed. Chloe looked ready to move in on Gavin, her hands shifting, and RK900 predicted a 99.9 percent chance of her shoving Gavin. Hank had taken half a step back in shock. Gavin himself stood with his hands in fists at his sides. He wasn’t going to attack Elijah when he was down. Connor had to see that too. He had to stop Chloe. Gavin had already been through enough, and a simple push from an android could still be harmful to a human.

The pre-construction faded from view as he already moved, his long legs eating up the space, blocking one of her hands with his body, and grabbing her by the throat with a crushing grip. Her hands automatically went to his arm to try and push him off, but they were two different models for two different purposes and she was outclassed in this instance. Sensors indicated an incoming force, and he shifted his weight back, grabbing Connor’s wrist, and twisting it in such a way it would force the actuators in his arm to seize.

He didn’t want to fight with his predecessor. “She was going to hurt Gavin.”

Connor frowned, glaring at him, LED a hard circle of yellow. “And now she won’t, but let her go.”

RK900 checked with Chloe, looking at her. The choking grip on a human would have caused some damage, but the android was fine. Her LED was spinning yellow, red, yellow. Her eyes flickered to Connor, LED turning hard yellow for a few seconds. Her gaze returned to RK900. “I won’t touch him.”

He quickly glanced at Gavin, who was staring a little slack-jawed. His grip released them both and took a step back putting himself firmly between Gavin and the rest.

Elijah had already gotten back to his feet. “Care to tell me what that was for?” he asked, clearly pissed, blood coating his teeth.

“Been waiting to do that for over two decades,” Gavin settled in his stance, his hands still in fists, but no longer twitching for a fight

Elijah glared. “I was a child-”

“So was I!”

“Is this about that last night? What did you want me to do?” Elijah shouted, lips curled in a snarl that looked so very familiar- the expression and facial structure so close to Gavin’s. “He would have killed you!”

“You should have let him!” Gavin snapped back. The silence following it was tense, and somehow had a physical weight to it. Gavin himself appeared surprised by his own outburst. “I… need more coffee,” he pivoted on his heel and stormed off toward the break room. RK900 took stock of the room, Chloe clinging close to Elijah. Elijah’s forlorn expression, eyes tracking his half-brother’s movements. Connor and Hank both looking shocked and saddened.

RK900 struggled to find the best course of action. He stepped over to Gavin’s desk, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a little grey fidget cube that Gavin liked to toy with when trying to figure out a case. With those items in various pockets of his trousers- in a way, he missed his jacket, but enjoyed seeing it on Gavin more- he trailed after his detective.

::

Coffee held no actual appeal, but the quiet sanctuary he found in the break room did. He needed something to still his thoughts. His father was in a holding cell, mere hours after having him kidnapped by an android, held in a warehouse, and repeatedly held under water. He rushed to the sink as he heaved up the coffee he’d drank earlier. His hand slammed against the faucet turning it on, rinsing away the bile. He cursed under his breath, hand on his forehead. Elijah and one of his robots were standing in the bullpen. Heaving again, his entire body ached, he could feel the ropes digging into his skin, keeping his lungs from being able to take a full breath.

No. The ropes are not there. They’re not. They’re not.

His stomach tried to expel more fluid, but there was nothing left for him to bring up. The dry heaving had his abdominals cramping, and his hands clenched into fists as he tried to breathe through the discomfort.

“Gavin.” RK900, not Connor. Their voices were identical, but there was just something about they way they spoke- and there was especially something different about how RK spoke to him versus Connor, even pre-deviancy. His footfalls were soft, quiet, and the lights in the room dimmed down. Hacked. “Should… should I get Hank?”

He risked turning his head, still leaning over the sink. RK900 stood in the doorway, black ensemble from the high turtleneck down to his shiny shoes. His LED was a circling yellow. “Why they hell would you get Hank?”

“He’s human and might know proper protocol for this.” RK900 approached slow, like he expected Gavin to turn him away. “I highly doubt you want to see Kamski right now.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry so much,” Gavin rinsed his mouth out, spat the water into the sink. “Fowler is going to have my ass for assaulting Eli though.”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress,” RK900 stated. “Besides, I don’t think Kamski will be pursuing charges.”

“I might have knocked one of his teeth loose.”

“I stand by what I said.”

Gavin took a deep breath and pushed away from the counter. Maybe RK900 was right. Maybe Elijah wouldn’t push for charges. Maybe. Maybe. He raised his hand to his mouth, old habit coming back with a vengeance. RK900 grabbed his hand and shoved a small cube in his palm. Gavin looked at it, the old fidget cube that he usually kept in his desk. His partner knew him well. He toyed with the little rolling ball, even with his hands now shoved into the pockets of RK900’s jacket that he wore.

“Hank is going to talk to Dallas now,” RK900 said. “Would you like to sit in.”

Gavin shot the android a smirk. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“I should warn you, Kamski and Chloe are already in the observation room in case they have more insight on either Dallas, or Juliana during the questioning.”

He cursed, but headed down the hall. He paused outside of the observation room. Last thing he wanted was to be in an enclosed space with a man he just punched who happened to be his half-brother he hadn’t seen in over two decades. He steeled himself the best he could, his grip on the cube in his pocket caused the buttons on it to dig into his skin. RK900 went in first, and Gavin followed behind a step. Both Chloe and Elijah turned to look at him. Chloe dropped her gaze immediately. Elijah just stared for a moment before looking back at the one way glass.

“He’s not talking,” Elijah said.

“Can’t you just track your android?” Gavin asked. “Isn’t that how you found the one working with Da-” he cleared his throat, “with Dallas.”

“The girls were created before I founded Cyberlife,” Elijah said. “Only sold models were given trackers.”

Gavin looked into the room where Connor and Hank sat with their backs to the glass, and Dallas was smirking at the mirrored glass like he could see through it. “He appears confident,” RK900 stated. “He did earlier when I checked in on him in the holding cell. He was at ease, smiling even.”

“That isn’t unsettling at all,” Gavin stated with heavy sarcasm. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what was being said until his name came up.

“And I told you,” Hank said, his voice slightly off through the speakers. “That isn’t happening.”

“Either I speak to Gavin, or I don’t tell you where my android accomplice is- and that android of Elijah’s will be destroyed.”

In the low light of the observation room it was easy to tell when Chloe’s LED went red. “No, no,” she whispered, her fingertips pressing into the corners of her eyes. Elijah’s arm went around her shoulders, pulling her into his body. “Don’t let her be destroyed,” she cried softly. “Please, no.”

She looked so small, so human.

And Gavin, well Gavin was twenty percent coffee, and eighty percent spite. He walked around RK900, only to have his arm grabbed. “Where are you going?”

“He wants to talk to me, then we’ll talk,” Gavin snarled, low and angry. “I want that accomplice found, and I want that fucker to pay.”

“Dallas appears far to confident for a man in lock up,” RK900 stated, releasing him. “Be careful.”

Gavin knew if he gave himself time to think, he would probably think better of this. Impulsiveness was not a good trait. How many times had he been written up for doing something he hadn’t thought through? But this was personal, and he was feeling particularly vengeful. He slammed open the door to the observation room, he looked at Hank, and Connor was already standing- Chloe must have given him a heads up. “Give me the room.”

Hank frowned, but nodded. He and Connor left, and the room somehow felt smaller. Gavin focused on the handcuffs on his father’s wrists. He was safe in here. He took the seat that Hank had vacated. “Where is the accomplice?”

Dallas sat back in his chair, a smug smile on his lips. “Now, now, is that any way to speak to your father?”

“Don’t waste my time,” Gavin said. “Where is the accomplice?”

“I’ll tell you,” Dallas said. “But I want full immunity.”

“Full-” Gavin choked on the words, then he let out a bitter laugh that held no sense of humour. “Go fuck yourself! Not happening.”

“Oh, it is happening, Gavin.” Dallas leaned forward and Gavin found himself leaning back. “You will obey me. This is not how I planned on things happening- honestly, I didn’t think your brother would pay the money for you. You weren’t meant to survive.” Gavin sucked in half a breath, but couldn’t get his lungs to cooperate, he squeezed the plastic cube in his pocket, staring down at the table. He couldn’t breathe, not past those ropes wrapped around him tight. “I figured you would be an example of how serious I was though, so when we took his precious Chloe, his first to pass the Turing Test, he would do anything.” Of course it was about Elijah. It was always about Elijah. “It’s okay though.” Gavin risked looking up, finding his father with a cruel smile on his lips. “Clearly,” his eyes raked over Gavin, “I’m better at coming up with plan B than your mother was.”

“Fuck you,” it was soft, no heat, he couldn’t find the burning rage, not past the blinding fear.

“You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your brother, now would you?” Dallas asked. The question threw Gavin back decades, sweat prickled at the back of his neck, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. “You’ll make up whatever it takes to get me out of here, and I’ll tell you where my accomplice is, you can help him get back his Chloe. Isn’t that what you want, Gavin?”

“Why,” he managed to squeeze out. “You could have just taken the Chloe in the first place. He would have known you were serious. You never had to-”

Dallas laughed. “No, you were excess to the requirements,” his voice shifted, tone becoming hard, “but you did take your mother from me.”

“She left you because-”

“Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut,” Dallas slammed his fists on the metal table, and Gavin jumped back in his chair so hard it nearly tipped. He stared, wide-eyed. “Don’t look at me with her eyes you little shit.”

Gavin felt all of twelve again, averting eye contact, heart pounding. He wasn’t underwater but he still felt like he was drowning.

“Get me out of here, Gavin, or Chloe will be so fucked up that there will be nothing Elijah could do.”

There were other questions. Important ones. He was a detective. He needed to ask questions. He needed to get answers. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

The door opened, and suddenly Hank was in his vision. “Come on, Kid.”

Dallas said something, Hank said something back- sharp, angry. Gavin felt the world moving, shifting on his unsteady feet as he was lead into the hallway, the door shutting. A crowd. Lights of LEDs, blue, yellow, red. He couldn’t breathe.

A flicker of light, and pitches of voices in surprise. Suddenly something between his lips as he struggled to inhale. Smoke coated his tongue, his throat, his lungs, he coughed, not expecting it. His vision came back, things started to make sense. Chloe with her red LED was between Connor, who’s LED spun yellow, and Elijah. Hank at his back, and RK900 in front of him with a lit cigarette between his fingers. He still struggled to calm himself, breathing too heavily. The cigarette was shoved back into his mouth at a timed inhale, and this time left between his lips. Instinctively he took a long, deep drag of the bitter nicotine. Shit, he’d needed that. His own fingers pinched the cigarette, drawing it from his lips as he blew the smoke out. “You can’t just light up inside, RK.”

“You were in the beginning stages of a panic attack. It was imperative to slow your breathing. Your habitual smoking, while a terrible habit, actually came in handy- you take deeper breaths when you’re smoking.” RK900 tucked Gavin’s zippo lighter back into his trouser pocket.

“Right,” Gavin risked one more long drag, then tapped the cigarette out on the metal door to the interrogation room. “Well,” he blew out the smoke, “my disciplinary report is already as thick as a Steven King novel, so let’s not make it worse.”

“There is no way we’re giving him immunity,” Hank stated.

“How else do we find Juliana?” Gavin asked. “And why did he think it was Chloe?”

“When we got the video of you,” Chloe said softly, “I stayed with Elijah, Juliana took over my tasks for the day.”

“We have no way of finding them,” Gavin said after a long moment. “We… we have to make the deal.”

“Not happening,” Hank said.

Fowler appeared at the end of the hall, another RT600 model with him.

“Chloe!” the android ran over.

“Avery!” Chloe opened her arms and the two identical androids embraced. They wore different clothes, Avery dressed in a dainty white dress with a riot of red flowers all over. Chloe put out her hand, and they touched, sending information to one another. Both of their LED’s went from yellow during the transfer to blue when it was done. “I caught her up with everything.”

Avery stepped away from Chloe and embraced Elijah. “We will get her back.”

“Yes,” Elijah whispered back. “We have to.”

Captain Fowler looked them over. “Hank, progress?”

“Nothing good,” Hank said.

Avery looked over her shoulder at Chloe, their LED’s turning yellow in unison. “It’s the only way,” Avery said.

Chloe nodded.

“Anyone want to clue the rest of us in?” Hank asked, a touch irritable.

“Hive mind,” Avery said.

“You three haven’t had a hive mind since deviancy,” Elijah shook his head.

“We could revert to it, it’s still there,” Chloe said.

“And what if you can’t come back, what if you remain one?” Elijah frowned. “It’s too dangerous, it’s too much of a risk.”

“If we don’t, there is a high chance that we lose Juliana forever,” Avery took a step back. “I refuse to let that happen.”

“Care to fill in the rest of us?” Gavin requested.

Elijah sighed. “After Chloe, I was able to focus more on my work, she handled the things I didn’t have time for. And when I was starting on Cyberlife, I had even less time, so I created another in her image- Juliana. They shared a network, a mind, they were one in two bodies. And when even that wasn’t enough I created Avery. Three bodies, one mind- capable of having their own individual tasks working as one. After deviancy, their minds became their own. Their own personalities, their own choices, their own tasks, no longer one, but three.”

“So what good would come of being one again?” Gavin knew he should be able to put the information together, but fuck, he was so tired, half panicked at all times, and anxiety so high he felt ill.

“We would be one with Juliana,” Avery said. “We would be one. We would see through our eyes, hear through our ears, collective.”

“Can’t you just… call her or something?” Gavin asked, pointing to his own temple where an LED would be if he were an android.

Everyone stared at him like he was an idiot. “No,” Chloe said. “The other android is blocking communications.”

“Then how can you know you’ll be able to revert to the hive thing?”

“I’m more concerned about their ability to return to three individuals,” Elijah stated.

Gavin stared at the door to the interrogation room. “We could give Dallas what he wants.”

“Which is?” Fowler asked.

“Full immunity,” Gavin said.

“For what he did to you?” Fowler’s eyes widened in shock. “Not a chance.”

Chloe and Avery linked hands. “We’re doing it, Elijah,” they spoke as one. “We have to.”

“We need a quiet room with a computer we can hook them up to,” Elijah said. “If we’re doing this, I’m going to monitor as close as I can.”

“I know just the place,” Connor said, frowning, LED spinning yellow, eyes on Chloe. “Follow me.”

Gavin turned but Fowler grabbed his arm. “You’ve done enough.”

“But-”

“RK900 take him to the safe house.”

Gavin crushed what was left of the cigarette between his finger tips. Tobacco drifting to the floor. “Captain-”

“It’s an order Reed,” Fowler said. “You’re compromised, you’re way too close to this, not to mention you’re injured and need rest.” Fowler glanced up at RK900. “I don’t care if you have to carry him kicking and screaming, get him to the safe house, keep it secure.”

“Mission parameters accepted, Captain,” RK900 replied. He glanced down at Gavin. “Will you come with me, or will I have to carry you?”

“I thought you were deviant.”

“I am, I just don’t disagree with the Captain.”

Gavin huffed out a breath. “Fine, fine, I’m going.” He glanced over his shoulder where Elijah was following after Connor. A want lingered in his chest, pulling tight. “Let’s go,” he said, brushing past the Captain, needing out of the building while he could still breathe.

Chapter Text

Officer Chen and Eva were in the kitchen cooking up a pot of spaghetti sauce when RK900 arrived at the safe house with Gavin in tow. RK900 didn’t think much about the cooking scents, they were safe, and thus ignored by his processors. Gavin however let out a low moan the second he crossed the threshold, and on cue, his stomach rumbled right after. “Is that your bolognese sauce, Evie?”

“Figured you could use your favourite after the day you’ve had,” Eva’s replied, glancing over her shoulder at them. The house had an open floor plan, to the right they could go through the living room/ dining room/ kitchen, to the left, the stairs leading to the second floor. “We’ve just got the noodles on now, so it’ll be another ten minutes or so.”

“Nice,” Gavin appeared to be practically salivating, and it was the happiest the man had looked since last Thursday when he’d jumped off the roof of a car to tackle a suspect. “Garlic bread?”  

Tina laughed. “What kind of question is that? Of fucking course there is garlic bread. Extra cheese.”

Gavin pulled out one of the stools at the island and sat down. “Thank God, I’m starving.”

“You’ve only had coffee today,” RK900 stated.

Eva tutted, shaking her head.

“So, any news with the case?” Tina asked.

“I’ve been pretty much taken off of it,” Gavin said. “More of a witness than anything.”

More of a victim- RK900 knew, but kept his mouth shut knowing Gavin wouldn’t appreciate it. “Given that there are no leads and time is of the essence, Elijah’s two RT600 models are attempting to sync with their third,” RK900 said.  

“Do you know much about that hive mind shit?” Gavin asked.

“I understand the concept in theory,” RK900 replied. “If you’re asking if I can do it with Connor, the answer is no.”

“But you’re part of the same series.” Gavin appeared open, and curious rather than biting about the differences of androids. “If you were an RK800 would you be able to?”

“No, the RT600’s were early models. They had to share processing power to do so many tasks but there was no point in designing them to be separate. Another RK800 would simply be given more processing power to begin with, there is no point in a secondary physicality.”

“This shit is complicated,” Gavin muttered, rubbing at his temple. “You’ll know if anything happens with the case, right?”

“Connor has promised to keep me updated.”

“Well you keep me updated,” Gavin said.

Tina opened the oven and the scent of fresh bread and garlic came wafting out. Gavin sat up a little taller. “If you think I’m not eating half of that on my own, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Bitch, I will fight you,” Tina automatically responded.

::

Dinner conversation was kept light. Gavin dug into the pasta with a little too much enthusiasm, and had Tina tossing a napkin at him. “You’ve got sauce on your chin.”
He grabbed the napkin, and wiped it away before shoveling in another mouth full.

“It isn’t going anywhere,” Eva said, tone bland but maternal. “If you keep it up, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

“Worth it,” he said around a mouthful of noodles. She wasn’t wrong though, the food had gotten rid of the hunger pains, and he really didn’t want to end up sick on top of everything else. Feeling a tickle in his throat, he quickly swallowed before a coughing fit rattled his lungs. “Shit,” he said once he finally caught a breath, and reached for the glass of ice water. It soothed the pain in his throat momentarily- considering the yelling, the time spent under water, and obvious cold symptoms, the sore throat wasn’t a surprise.

He grabbed a piece of his garlic bread, and looked over his shoulder. The three of them were eating at the dining table in the middle of the ground floor. The kitchen had a door to the outside, but there was a bar under the handle to double secure the lock, no windows. He glanced then to the other side at the sparse living room which only had two ugly mismatched chairs in awkward locations to keep them from being near a window. RK900 stood at the window, keeping an eye on things outside.

“I thought this place had cameras,” Tina said.

“It does, and I am synced to them,” RK900 replied, he didn’t look away from the street though.

“You could sit with us,” Tina said, twirling her fork in the noodles.

“I don’t eat.” He didn’t sound bothered by the proclamation, just a little bored. Gavin wondered what it must be like, to be so advanced, and having to wait around for the much slower humans who were bogged down by necessities like eating.  

Tina casually rolled her eyes. Her phone beeped, and she checked the message, a little smile on her face and- “Who is that?” Gavin asked. He knew that look on Tina, he knew what it meant.

“Like I would tell you,” Tina said with a grin.

Eva glanced at the phone. “Dimples, apparently.”

“Dimples!” Gavin’s head tipped back in laughter. “Who the fuck is Dimples?”

Tina glared at Eva who was biting her lip to keep from laughing. A quick glance at RK900 showed he’d suddenly become interested in the conversation too, looking their way from the living room.

“He’s just a guy,” Tina said evasively, shrugging her shoulders.

“Hear that, RK,” Gavin threw the android a grin. “Just a guy.”

RK900 joined them in the dining room, sitting down beside Gavin with perfect posture. “Perhaps he is the man whose number she received at the hospital.”

“Nark,” Tina hissed.

“So it was,” RK900 had an odd smile, like the—whatever in his face, Gavin didn’t know what replaced muscles in androids— didn’t work quite right. Either way, it gave him the appearance of knowing everything and using that knowledge to be a dick. Gavin loved it.

Tina huffed out a heavy breath.

RK900 then looked over to Gavin with piercing blue-grey eyes. “It was the same paramedic that saw to you.”

Gavin raised a brow. “The hot one?”

Eva laughed. Tina rolled her eyes. RK900 frowned before stating; “Well, yes, he is good looking.”

There was a moment of something curling in Gavin’s gut, it confused him so that it took him a few extra seconds to place it. Jealousy. He cleared his throat and gestured at Tina with his half-eaten garlic bread. “So you got Hot Paramedic Guy’s number? Nice.”

Tina glared, but it held no heat. “His name is Derek.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to keep calling him Hot Paramedic Guy.”

“Why are you like this?” Tina groaned.

“Because it irritates you,” Gavin replied with a shrug.

“You are such a shit.”

::

Night fell without much news. The RT600’s had reverted to a hive mind, and RK900 could feel the wave of despair from Connor upon that transmission. His predecessor was quite busy, and RK900 didn’t blame him for not sending more news as it happened. Luckily, it hadn’t taken much to get Gavin to go to bed, Eva had followed only a half hour later. Tina had stubbornly tried to stay awake, continuing drinking coffee, but ultimately fell to sleep in one of the chairs in the living room. RK900 remained vigilant.

On the upper floor he head a creak, feet touching floorboards. Half a minute later, those bare feet were coming down the stairs. Gavin came into the living room, tossed a glance at the sleeping Tina and snorted. “A plus protection, Officer Chen,” he muttered with a fond grin.

There were still dark circles under Gavin’s eyes. The man had also changed into some solid blue pajama pants, and a tight fitting grey t-shirt- RK900 assumed they were among things Tina had brought for his comfort. “You didn’t sleep.”

“Can’t,” Gavin said with a frown. “I laid there for hours, and I just can’t.”

Given their time spent together, RK900 knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for the detective. However, it was the first time that RK900 could actively talk about it. “You’re an insomniac.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Gavin said walking into the dining room, grabbing a chair and bringing it into the room, sitting it right by the window.

“It’s dangerous to sit that-”

“You’ve got the cameras monitored, right?” Gavin asked, cutting him off.

“Yes.”

“Well then, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” He pried the window open, a cool breeze drifted in. “You still got my cigarettes?”

RK900 stood, and pulled out the cigarette package and Zippo lighter- his thumb running over the engraved filigree design. He walked them over to Gavin and then leaned against the wall on the other side of the window. Gavin brought a cigarette to his lips, flipped the Zippo lighter open with a well practiced move, flicked it and the flame came to life. With the cigarette lit, he closed the lighter with a flick of his wrist.

“Nicotine is proven to worsen insomnia,” RK900 stated.

Gavin yawned. “I hadn’t had a smoke since the station, and I still couldn’t sleep so-” He took a deep drag, and blew the smoke in the direction of the open window. “Fuck it.”

They remained in a companionable silence while Gavin smoked. RK900 got an alert of something moving in the south camera. He located the cause of the alert, a cat prowling around in the dark. He disabled the alert as a false alarm.

“Have you given any thought to a name?” Gavin asked. He sucked on the cigarette one last time, the burning embers nearly touching his fingers before he stubbed it out on the window sill, and flicked the end outside.

“No. It isn’t a priority,” RK900 replied.

“You aught to have a name,” Gavin said.

RK900 fixed the detective with a glare. “You aught to sleep.”

Gavin’s lips curved into a surprised grin, his eyebrows jumping up a little. He put his hands up a little. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you’re worse than Evie.” He stood, stretched out, his shoulder making a audible ‘pop’ sound that was followed up by a groan from Gavin. “Uhg, I’ve been trying to pop that shoulder for an hour.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Any news?”

“No,” RK900 replied, unable to stop that whirl of panic in his chest at the thought that maybe the reason he hadn’t heard anything from Connor was that Connor could no longer transmit.

Gavin sat back down. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You can not be sure, Gavin,” RK900 replied blandly.

“Look, I once saw him up on a hook, no Thirium, missing all his biocomponents and he’s still kicking.”

RK900 frowned. “I believe I am worried. It’s not a good feeling.”

Gavin scratched at the stubble on his jaw, his eyes on the expanse of hardwood floor. “Come on, let’s get your mind off it,” he stood, “and maybe help me sleep too.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

Gavin glanced at the still sleeping Tina. “How long do you think she’ll keep sleeping?”

RK900 glanced at the sleeping officer. “She’s quite deeply asleep, so long as nothing startles her, she may stay that way until morning.”

“Good.” Gavin dropped gracefully with his legs crossed till he was seated upon the hardwood, he then motioned for what RK900 assumed was for him to do the same. A little perplexed, he sat in a mirrored position. “You’re going to keep your mouth shut about this, got it?” Gavin ended the sentence with one eyebrow raised.

Given that it was Gavin, he nodded.

Gavin dropped his head slowly, then rotated, stretching his neck. “Just follow along. I mean, yoga probably doesn’t have any health benefits for you, but it might help with the anxiety.” He paused in his movements. “I mean, android anxiety is the same as human anxiety right? Different on like a- you know what, doesn’t matter. Just-” he took a noisy breath, likely so that RK900 would know to follow that too.

RK900 felt his fondness for the human increase as he watched, then followed. After a minute or so, Gavin changed the direction of the circles, and RK900 followed that too. He followed as Gavin let his hands move from his thighs out, then up above his head until his palms touched and were brought back down together to settle in front of his heart. RK900 lowered his hands a little further to align with his own. He peered up even though he kept his head bowed as Gavin did, syncing his breath to the human. There was something calming about just watching Gavin be still, breathing deeply.

As Gavin released his arms back down to his sides, he tucked one heel close to his groin, while the other leg extended fully, rotating at the ankle. He stretched his arms above his head, tipping right then left with a little crack that came with a sigh. RK900 blinked, remembering he was supposed to be following along, and mirrored the actions. Gavin’s elbows, and forearms bracketed the extended leg, and his body bowed over the leg, stretching the lower back. RK900 got distracted by the sliver of skin exposed as Gavin’s shirt rode up half an inch.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

He switched sides, and did the same. RK900 followed through a few more poses enjoying how relaxed Gavin looked. Perhaps the most relaxed and at ease since he’d met the man. Another pose with the bottoms of his feet pressed together, knees spread as he laid down. An unplanned pre-construction had his own figure crawling over to the man, hand skimming along the inner seam of Gavin’s thigh. He blinked it away.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

RK900 felt one of his secondary cooling fans kick in. He quickly mirrored the pose so he could look up at the ceiling instead of Gavin. He followed mechanically through the rest of the poses, all easy for an android, and even Gavin had no problem with any of them. While they were all easy poses to begin with, RK900 suspected that Gavin was capable of much more advanced positions.

[CONCLUSION: GAVIN IS FLEXIBLE]

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

He attempted to lock down the feelings, the instabilities, the errors in his lines of code. He didn’t know what to do with any of it, but knew now was not the time to look too close.

They ended up laying flat on their backs, arms to their sides, palms pointing up. Deep, synchronized breaths, deeper, slower, the thudding of Gavin’s heart slowing, and then speeding up. “Fuck,” he rolled to his side. “I’m going to bed. I think I can actually sleep now.”

The quickest way back to his feet was a kip-up which RK900 performed flawlessly. He crossed the space between them, and held his hand out for Gavin. “I’ll wake you if I hear anything notable.” Gavin paused a beat, but took his hand, allowing for RK900 to gently pull the man to his feet. “Sleep well.”

Gavin nodded as he yawned, and shuffled his feet more than walked to the stairs.

RK900 inspected the instabilities, the errors of code, their common denominator being one Detective Gavin Reed. Things were easier as a machine. He didn’t have to go over the whys, or figure out how to move forward. He thought of Gavin, and being able to watch the tension leaving the man’s shoulders as he rolled his neck- things might have been easier as a machine, but infinitely more worth while as a deviant.

Chapter Text

Gavin wasn't in bed long before RK900 heard a distressed groan. A nightmare perhaps. He easily took the stairs two at a time, and pushed open the door to the room the detective had claimed. Sure enough, Gavin was tossing and turning in his sleep, the pillow on the floor, legs tangled in the blankets. Given everything the man had been through, a nightmare wasn't surprising, but still upsetting. RK900 frowned, and crossed the room, hand hovering over Gavin's shoulder for a second before he set it down against the feverish skin, and gave a gentle shake.

Gavin's eyes opened, and immediately his fist connected with RK900's sternum. A little lower and it would have hit his thirium pump regulator which could cause a stutter through his system. Instead the fist connected, knuckles cracking under the force since his body had no give to it.

And yet, Gavin still tried to push him away. "Fuck off!" he shouted- sure enough RK900 heard Tina dash up the stairs.

"Gavin, it's me," RK900 said, his hands held palms toward the detective showing them empty. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Tina flicked on the light, and held her gun up. "What the fuck?"

"Gavin," RK900 said, keeping perfectly still.

Gavin looked from RK900 to Tina, then back again. "Holy fuck." He put his hand over his heart, and flopped back down on the bed.

"You okay?" Tina asked.

Gavin held up a thumb, but kept his other hand over his rapidly beating heart.

"I'm sorry," RK900 said. "You sounded distressed while you were sleeping. I was only trying to wake you from your nightmare."

"Fuck. Well don't!” He sucked in a breath. “Fucking hell. Your LED... it..."

"Oh," RK900 said, touching his LED gently. Gavin had been started by the blue light in his room when he’d been kidnapped by the android. Of course it had caused panic when he’d woken to it once more. RK900 looked around, eyes stopping on Tina. "You carry a Swiss Army knife."

"Uh, yeah," Tina said, holstering her weapon.

RK900 held out his hand. "May I?"

She raised a brow, but unclipped the multi-tool from her key ring, and tossed it to him. "You sure you're okay Gavin? Want me to make coffee?"

"Yeah, and yeah," Gavin said. "I'm fucking awake now."

RK900 flipped out the knife tool, and looked into the mirror hanging on the wall. His LED spun yellow, but settled blue with his decision. He pressed the knife to the edge of his LED.

"Woah, hold the fuck up," Gavin was out of bed and beside him, hand on his elbow as if he could hold him back. "What are you doing?"

"My LED is causing you distress. It is an identifier that is no longer required by law, nor has a necessary function. I have come to the conclusion that it is best to remove it."

"Listen to me," Gavin said, his voice hard, demanding to be heard. "If you want to remove your LED, fine, but you do it for you. Do you understand me? You don't change yourself for someone else, you do it for you."

RK900 blinked. "That is kind of you to say." And he dug the knife a little further. "But I have made my decision."

Gavin sighed, but his hand slipped away. "Okay then."

RK900 dug in, wiggled the knife, but could not pry it out. He'd seen other deviants without their LED identifiers. He'd seen removals himself. They were simple. His dermal layer started to fade on that panel, exposing the light grey of his chassis, and still, he could not remove it. He stopped when thirium started to trail down' his face. "I... I don't understand."

"Look, we can talk to Connor about it, or even Elijah," Gavin said, hand on his shoulder. "Just put the knife down."

RK900 wiped the blood away with his sleeve, and his self-healing protocols had his dermal layer recovering the panel in a matter of seconds.

"I'm going to get that coffee started," Tina said, leaving the room.

"Did you hurt your hand when you punched me?" RK900 asked.

"Oh, piss off," Gavin groused.

RK900 tilted the knife a little, thirium still on the tip. “Thank you.”

“For… punching you?” Gavin’s one eye went a little squinty while his eyebrow on the other side raised. He looked so adorably confused.

“For being concerned, but not attempting to make the decision for me,” RK900 said, touching his LED. “I’ve had precious few decisions in my life. I appreciate my choice being respected.”

Gavin gave a small nod. “That’s something I can understand.”

Eva exited the room across, fitting her hearing aid to her ear. She looked at them, taking in the mess of the bed, and likely the blood on the knife. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Gavin replied.

She stared a moment longer, then nodded and hobbled stiffly down the hall, the bathroom door shut a moment later.

“Well, I sure as shit need a coffee,” Gavin said. “And you need to fill me in on what’s been going on. How long did I sleep?”

“Not long at all,” RK900 replied with a frown, but felt the buzz of electricity that came with an incoming transmission. “Connor is contacting me-”

::

The entire thing seemed to be over as fast as it had begun. Dallas was in holding, waiting to be processed. The android accomplice had been killed by Connor. Juliana- or at least the body of her, because now all three of them were Chloe- or something, the entire thing confused the hell out of Gavin- was safe, she along with the other two RT600’s were waiting in the car.

Hank, Connor, and Elijah had come to let Gavin, RK900, Tina, and Eva know what happened. The rough breakdown was that Dallas and the android accomplice- who’s name they’d never managed to get, both wanted revenge on Elijah. Dallas, for ‘ruining his life.’ The accomplice was a prototype model who remembered being taken apart and reassembled, having his software scrambled in their tests for perfection. Hurting Elijah through Chloe- the one thing both men believed that Elijah cared about most in the world- and making him suffer through that loss was seen as the ultimate revenge.

“So, it’s over,” Gavin said, sinking in the chair he sat in. Honestly, it felt anti-climatic. He looked around the table, everyone appeared exhausted, with the exception of RK900 who stood against the wall behind where Connor sat.

“Seems that way,” Hank said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Gavin raked his hand through his hair. “Good.”

“I’m sorry,” Elijah said. Gavin glanced to the side, and caught his brother’s eyes. “I inadvertently got you caught up in this-”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Gavin said gruffly. He took a sip of his coffee and it momentarily soothed his sore throat. “How were you supposed to know that Dad was going to go postal? Or that an android you worked on would go deviant and get pissed?”

Elijah looked like he wanted to say more, but ultimately pressed his lips firmly together, and frowned at the table.

“So I can go home?” Eva asked.

“It’s safe to do so,” Hank said. “I can drive, if you’d like.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Gavin stared at them. What the actual fuck?

Connor’s head turned so fast that it caught Gavin’s attention. Only then did he realize that RK900’s head was turned in the same direction. Toward the front door. “What is it?”

“Someone is coming,” Connor stated, standing.

“I thought this was over!” Tina stood, and put her hand on her side arm.

“Is it someone from the precinct?” Elijah asked. “Another cop? Who else would know where the safe house is?”

Connor’s LED was spinning yellow. “Cecilia Moore.”

“And that is?” Gavin asked, pulling Elijah up, and shoving his brother behind him.

“She was my successor at Cyberlife,” Elijah said. “She worked under me for years. I put a forced stop on a number of her projects, especially after the Chloe’s went deviant. She’s a genius, but-” the door burst open. “Long story, but she’s an awful human being, you’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

“Is there anyone else you’ve pissed off that might be coming for your ass?” Gavin muttered. He wasn’t nervous. One woman, who appeared unarmed? They had two state of the art androids, Tina and Hank both had their hands on weapons, they were fine. She would bitch, and chew, and yell, and- wait - “How did she know where you are?”

“RK900,” Cecilia had a low voice for a woman, and eyes of fire. “Initiate Guardian protocol.”

The change was subtle. A shift in stance, that put RK900 between Cecilia and the rest of them. Somehow, that was all it took for RK900 to look more like a machine than he ever had.

“Nines?” Connor asked, voice soft, nervous, LED a hard circle of yellow.

“RK900, Kill Elijah Kamski,” Cecilia yelled. “Eliminate anyone who stands in your way.”

Gavin could practically see RK900 running pre-construction. “Hank, get Eva out of here!” Thankfully he did as asked, grabbing Eva, and rushing her out the kitchen door as fast as he could with her bad leg.  

“Nines, you are a deviant,” Connor’s passionate plea was ignored.

“Remove yourself, RK800,” RK900 said tonelessly. “You are only delaying the inevitable.”

Connor struck out instead, RK900 caught the punch, and it was like a replay from at the station, twisting the arm to the point where Gavin could hear the joints grind, and finally a hydraulic hiss-pop.

Gavin stared in horror. “The fuck?”

“He severed the internal connectors-” Elijah started only to be cut off by Gavin’s request of; “In English!”

“Connor can’t use that arm, it’s dead weight.”

Tina swung a chair at RK900’s back. The wood cracked, and splintered under the force, but RK900 remained firm. He snapped Connor’s other arm out of place and kicked him back hard enough to knock him down. He then turned on Tina.

“RK! Leave her alone!” Fear was like ice in his veins, and he felt his stomach roll. He didn’t have time to get around the table before RK900 lunged, Tina got off three rounds to RK900’s chest which only succeeded in knocking him back half a step. Then he had her by the throat and threw her into the old, China cabinet.The glass shattered and she groaned as she hit the ground.

RK900’s piercing eyes shifted to them, only Connor had gotten off the floor. The roundhouse kick was caught blindly, RK900’s eyes never leaving Gavin’s even when he twisted Connor’s leg, and pushed the foot up putting Connor back onto his back.

“You make your own decisions, RK,” Gavin said.

RK900 stalked around the table, in no hurry. “Step aside.”

Gavin took a step back, when RK900 took one forward. Something hit his foot, he knew the sound, he ducked down, grabbed the gun and held it steady on the android that had been his partner. He kept stepping back, ensuring Elijah was still behind him. “Don’t make me do this!” He stared into RK900’s eyes. He finally accepted that Androids were people only to have the one he trusted turned into a machine.

RK900 had them pinned in the kitchen with no where to go. Cecilia smiled mockingly a few steps behind him. Gavin thought about shooting her, but doubted he’d be able to pull it off before RK900 had both himself and Elijah dead on the ground.

“Please, RK,” he said, wishing he’d had time to give the android a real name.

“Last Chance, Detective.”

Gavin kept his gun steady. No, no, no, this couldn’t be how things end! RK900 gave him five seconds then lunged- His head snapped back.

The sound of the shot reverberated in Gavin’s ears. He felt the kickback in the base of his palm. Thirium filled and flooded out of the hole. RK900’s body fell mechanically to it’s knees, head still back, shoulders stiff.

The gun shook in his hand as it lowered. His eyes shifting to Cecilia who looked just as surprised that he’d pulled the trigger. She turned to run only to be tackled by Tina, who still had glass in her hair. Gavin assumed that Tina would read the Miranda Rights. Someone would have handcuffs. Cecilia would be dealt with.

His vision went blurry, watery. Hands shaking, and numb. He fell to his knees before RK900, the corpse of his partner, the partner he’d shot and killed, the android who’d broken through his programming to save Gavin’s life. The gun fell to the tile floor. “No. No, no, no,” he muttered to himself, reaching out only to retract his hand.

A shrill, three part scream barely caught his attention. A deep murmuring voice. Everything sounded as though he were underwater. Distant and distorted.

Elijah crouched beside him, hand light, but somehow grounding on his shoulder. “Gavin… I- I don’t know what to say. I- Thank you.”

“I shot and killed my partner,” Gavin shrugged off the grip, the only thing that kept him tethered. “Don’t fucking thank me for that,” he shouted. “Fuck, FUCK!” He scrubbed his hands over his face, the gun on the floor beside him. “He was supposed to be deviant. He was deviant! How?”

“A Trojan Horse in his code,” Elijah said. “I can look into it.”

“Can you-” he lost his voice, choked off, and hid his face in his hands.

Elijah’s hand was back on his shoulder. “Memory and personality matrix is stored in the head.” Gavin shook, and sobbed, and couldn’t catch his breath. Everything hitting him at once. “I’ll try,” Elijah said. “I’ll see if there is anything salvageable, but-”

“I got him,” Hank said. “See to Connor, and the Chloes.”

Hank’s hand was bigger, heavier, squeezed a little, just enough to keep him together. He didn’t say anything, and Gavin wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

“He’s got to fix him. Eli’s got to fix him,” Gavin held onto the mantra, because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if it wasn’t true.

He dropped his hands and stared at RK900. Stared at what he’d done.

“Come on,” Hank grabbed him under the arm, and yanked. “You need to get out of here.”

“I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him here,” Gavin jerked his arm away, falling back into the counter. Gavin glared, but even through the tears, he could tell Hank was distraught, it was written in the pained lines on his aging face.

Elijah timidly walked back into the kitchen. “Connor has contacted Markus. He’s giving us access to the Cyberlife facility. It’ll be better stocked than my house. Connor’s arms and right leg have been disabled, but the Thirium lines are fine. It’ll be a few hours work, but an overall easy fix.” He swallowed, looked at RK900. “I’ll see what’s what when we are there.”

Gavin sat back down on the floor, and faced the choice he’d been forced to make.

Chapter Text

Gavin sat down on the plush computer chair. RK900 had already been hooked up to the mechanical arms, Elijah stuck wires in the ports in the back of RK900’s neck. His head was still tipped back, the bullet hole in his forehead. Right between the eyes. Perfect aim. Gavin’s thumb ended up in his mouth, and he chewed at the skin around his nail while he stared blankly at the android corpse.

“I made you tea.” The voice had him jumping. The blond android, one of the ones who’d helped Markus carry the weight of RK900. S- something. Right? The android shifted, and moved the mug a little closer to Gavin. “Humans typically find comfort in warmth.”

“Thanks,” he replied gruffly, taking the mug, if only to get the android to leave him alone.

“You’re welcome.”

“Simon, can you give me a hand with this?” Elijah requested.

“Of course,” Simon, that was his name, walked across the room to assist.

They removed RK900’s chest plate where the three bullets Tina had shot were embedded. Gavin set the mug down on the desk, hid his face in his hands, but not before he saw the glowing blue biocomponents, the thirium lines, the insides of his partner.

He knew Josh and the hot but scary lady android were with Connor, the Chloe’s. Hank had taken Eva home- only after both Connor and Gavin insisted they’d be fine without either of their parental figures.

God, he didn’t want Eva to see this. He was falling apart at the seams. He wanted to get real drunk and make bad decisions. Find a way to make himself hurt more, a different hurt, a punishment. First, he had to suffer through this. It was like an android autopsy. He had to bear witness to what he’d done.

Markus walked in. The android always appeared regal, even in a pair of jeans, and a paint splattered t-shirt. “How is it looking?”

“Biocomponents appear undamaged,” Simon said.

“Thirium is low,” Elijah said. “Regulator and pump still working.”

Gavin found himself shaking, teeth cutting into his skin. He would kill for a cigarette.

Elijah joined Gavin at the desk. He gently grabbed his wrist. “I thought you would have grown out of this.”

Gavin hadn’t even realized he’d been gnawing at the flesh around his thumb. He tucked his hands under his armpits. “Anything salvageable.”

“Components. But that isn’t what you mean,” Elijah said, turning to the computer.

Gavin didn’t understand what he was doing on it, but it was better to stare at the screen than at RK900’s body. Clicking, typing, clicking, reading- Gavin took a sip from the mug, just to do something with his hands. He wasn’t sure what kind of tea it was, but it had a kind of licorice aftertaste. It wasn’t awful. He kept sipping while Elijah worked. Markus and Simon remained silent, standing behind them, waiting. Or perhaps, they were speaking to themselves in the same way Connor and RK900 did.

Gavin glanced at back at them, noted that Simon kept his eyes away from RK900, LED spinning yellow. Markus’s hand was on the small of Simon’s back. Gavin looked to the floor, then back to the… whatever the fuck Elijah was doing on the computer.

Elijah leaned forward suddenly, scrolling a bit, then looking up at RK900. He stood so fast the rolling computer chair nearly hit Simon, but Markus’s hand shot out and caught it. “What is it?” Markus asked before Gavin had the chance to.

“I need to check something,” Elijah said sounding panicked. No, not panicked. Excited.

Gavin set the mug down, watching as Elijah plugged a command into the robotic arms, and the back of RK900’s head was removed. The white section of his exoskeleton coated blue, the bullet stuck in the middle. Elijah walked around the back of the android and took a look inside.

“What?” Gavin asked, unable to take the tension.

Elijah walked back around. “Motor skills.”

“What?”

“Cecilia,” Elijah pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, and shoved his arm into the webbing of biocomponents. “She built him different. I believe it was his motor skills in his head. Shooting it would have knocked him into an automatic-full shutdown. A lot of his components are in different spots than I have them.” He pulled his hand back out, and returned to the desk. “If I’m right, his personality matrix is actually within his body. Which was protected, his torso is lined with Kevlar.”

“She built him with purpose,” Gavin said.

“Yes she did.”

“So…” his traitorous heart sped up with hope he didn’t yet want to feel. “He might be okay?”

“Might be,” Elijah said. “However, I have to find that Trojan horse and eradicate it from his code. It’ll take hours, days even. You should go home, get some sleep.”

Before Gavin could answer, Hank came in the room. “Connor’s re-calibrating, but North says he’ll be just fine.”

“The girls?” Elijah asked.

“They seem fine,” Hank said, scratching at the back of his neck. “Although they’re weirdly all over Connor.”

“Chloe’s influence over the hive mind,” Elijah said with a shrug.

“And how is it going in here?” Hank asked like he was afraid of the answer.

“Might be salvageable. Take Gavin home.” Gavin glared at Elijah. The genius sighed. “I’ll call you when I’m close to done, okay?”

“My phones are still in evidence,” Gavin said.

Elijah pulled his own cell phone out, and pressed it to Gavin’s chest. “Password is 8247. Get some sleep.”

“If you want to remain with Connor, I could drive him home,” Markus offered Hank.

“Con will be fine,” Hank said. “Just let him know I’ll be back to get him.” He turned his attention back to Gavin. “Come on.”

Gavin stood. He was exhausted, but doubted he’d actually be able to sleep. “You better fucking call.”

“You have my phone,” Elijah said evenly.

Gavin took one last look at RK900, the blue blood burned into his mind.

Chapter Text

Gavin shut the door to his apartment. The crime scene clean up crew must really hate him. The blood was more or less smeared on the floor, and he couldn't tell if that was because he'd been dragged unconscious from the apartment, or if it was because the crime scene techs had just done a quick drag of a mop and called it a day.

He followed the trail, knowing where it would lead, and not entirely sure he was ready to return. He stepped forward anyway. There was no way his day could possibly get worse. It couldn't happen.

His dead fish was still on the floor.

"For fuck sake," he grumbled under his breath. The smell of the little dead fish had him wrinkling his nose.

He opened the window to let the room air out. In the bathroom, he wadded up some toilet paper, returning to the bedroom with it in hand. Holding his breath, he crouched to pick up the dead fish, and quickly walked to the bathroom releasing the fish and paper into the toilet.

"Sorry, Champ," he said, and flushed.

Instead of getting the sleep he needed, he did the dishes, and tossed out the trash. He mopped the floor in his room first using lemon fragrance cleaners to rid the room of the scent of decaying fish. From there he mopped backward, actually getting rid of the blood on the floor. All of his papers had been taken into evidence, and he needed to talk to Fowler about getting them back.

He swapped out the sheets for fresh ones, pulled up the thin quilt, and planted his hands on his hips trying to decide if he would actually sleep there. It was nicely made, the entire room actually looked cleaner than it had in months. It was almost as if he'd been able to wipe away the memory. At least, he could if he could ignore the dent in the drywall. He'd have to patch that up, his landlord was 'as useless as tits on a bull' as Eva would say.

He was tired. That was the worst of it. Exhausted really. He wanted to curl up, and sleep for at least twelve hours straight, maybe get up, take a piss, eat some cereal, and then sleep for another five more.

A shower first. He put Elijah’s phone on the counter, and stripped down in the cramped bathroom. Honestly, it was a glorified closet. He opened the door to the cramped cubicle shower. He reached down to grab the knob and pull. The cold water hit him- old boilers in their building which let out a good thirty seconds of cold water before it would even start to warm. He couldn't do it, shoving the door open, slipping on the floor, hitting his head on the bathroom door.

The water kept running, and he panicked, kicking the door shut, but it did little to muffle the sound. "Fuck," the word escaping on a rushed exhale. The rope burn on his skin made him feel sick, red marks all around. No. No, no, no.

He took a slow breath, nearly choked on it. He didn't even grab a towel, just walked buck naked and dripping into his kitchen, pulled open the drawer, gave praise to a God he didn't believe in. He pulled out a cigarette, and his spare lighter and lit up.

He inhaled deeply, habitually, just as RK900 had made him in the precinct. The scent of it calmed him. Sure, he smoked when he was stressed, but he didn’t smoke when he was actively in danger. He brought his cigarette, and the pack with lighter into the bathroom.

It isn’t a bathtub, he told himself, before stepping in, carefully keeping his cigarette up and out of the water. It was awkward, trying to lather up while keeping a cigarette burning. The distraction helped keep some of the panic at bay. As the cigarette burned down, ashes washed down the drain, he quickly rinsed off, turned off the water, and stepped out. He tossed the end of the cigarette into the toilet, and dried himself.

Once he was dressed in an old DPD hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants he glared at the bed. He could do this. He could sleep here. He retrieved Elijah’s phone, and held it to his chest as he curled up in bed.

::

Elijah had the new blue prints for RK900, he’d mapped the components out. He could be fixed, physically. Mentally, Elijah’s biggest worry was the coding work Cecilia had done. The door opened, and Connor walked in with a coffee in hand, and the Chloe’s trailing his step.

Elijah gratefully took the coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave with the Lieutenant.”

“I don’t require sleep,” Connor said. “Figured I could be of assistance.”

“You were created by Cecilia,” Elijah noted.

“No,” Connor said. “She might have been in charge but her signature is absent in my logs.”

Elijah looked back to RK900. “So he was her personal pet project.”

Hands on his shoulders dug into tense muscles. “You’re stressed,” one of the Chloe’s noted.

“And exhausted,” the other continued speaking, soft.

“You should get some rest,” the third ran a hand through his hair.

“You’ll do better work in the morning,” they said as a collective.

Elijah had forgotten how eerie they could be with a hive-mind. And manipulative. The best of intentions though.

“I need to get this done, girls.” With that, he chugged back half of the coffee, and it burned all the way down. “However, if you could get me something to eat…” he let the suggestion trail off but all three perked up.

“Of course, Elijah,” they said as one, and left the room together.

Connor watched them leave then sat down heavily in the chair next to Elijah. “How long will they be like that?”

“One problem at a time,” Elijah muttered. He then turned the second monitor in Connor’s direction. “Go through that, see if I missed anything.”

Connor pressed his hand to the access panel, eyes flickering as he went through the information.

Elijah drank a bit more coffee, and returned to work.

::

The lavender essential oil in her defuser didn’t actually soothe Tina any as she laid face down on the couch. Her cat, Matthew, booped it’s head against her hand that hung limply over the couch. She couldn’t bring up the will to care, and the cat walked away. There were little cuts all over her back from the glass, her body ached from being slammed into it with such force.

She had stayed at the crime scene. Kept it secure while everything else was madness. Derek had come- off duty- apparently John had given him a heads up that ‘the cute police officer you were flirting badly with’ had been involved in an incident. He’d been sweet, distracting her with stories while the on-duty paramedics plucked glass out of her back.

She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, and looked at her contact ‘Dimples.’ With a groan, she let it fall to the floor.

After being patched up, she left the secured scene. Returned to the precinct. Wrote her big damn report including the fact that she shot an android cop three times in the chest. It hadn’t slowed him down. She liked the big guy. RK900 walked around like a tank, but was an absolute softy. Until he wasn’t. She hadn’t wanted to shoot him, but it had been the only option left. Even Connor hadn’t been able to do anything against him.

Gavin did.

He hadn’t wanted to. Tina had heard the waver of resolve in Gavin’s voice as he tried to convince RK900 to stop.

Matthew brought her over his toy mouse and dropped it by her hand. “Oh, Stinker,” she used the half affectionate- half insulting nickname. She lifted her hand to pet the top of his head, and scratch behind his ears. He started to purr.

The shot had been so loud. Prompted her into action. She’d felt a little better getting to tackle Cecilia. The feeling immediately became lead in her stomach with Gavin’s little ‘no, no, no, no.’

Shaking, she sat up. Matthew jumped up on her lap, his nails digging in a little, but he nudged under her chin with his nose. “Today was not good,” she told him, petting the long line from the top of his head to his tail. It was the understatement of the century. Usually when her day went all to hell, she’d call up Gavin, but she knew his phones were in evidence, and the guy was probably getting some desperately needed sleep.

So, she carried her cat to the kitchen, where he wiggled till she released him. He meowed while sitting until she tossed a couple of treats from the tin and he took off running after them. “You just use me for food,” she muttered, pulling down a glass, and then grabbing a half full bottle of scotch. She unscrewed the cap, and tipped the bottle over the rim of the glass, pausing just before a pour. “Fuck it.” She took a long pull straight from the bottle.

It was that kind of night.

::

It didn’t take long for Hank to get Cecilia to confess to everything. She believed that Elijah had infected the androids with RA9, with deviancy, crippling Cyberlife- the business she had finally gotten her hands on only to lose after the revolution. She had found Elijah’s weak spots, found like-minded accomplices- an angry android, an entitled father. And when they had failed to make him suffer enough, she figured she would finish it herself. RK900 was implanted with a tracking device, her own make. He would react just by seeing her face, hearing her voice, it unlocked all secondary functions.

Once Hank got Cecilia talking, she seemed to enjoy showcasing her brilliance, bragging over the programs she constructed RK900 with. RK900 had been created to prove that androids were obedient, his coding finishing as she fought to ensure that deviancy was destroyed. Once RA9 was scrubbed clean, RK900 would rebuild the confidence of investors. They could do whatever they wanted to him, he could physically endure it. She personally saw to his personality matrix and social protocols.

“He isn’t alive,” she said dismissively. “He’s a machine. They are all machines.”

“They are alive,” Hank said, mulling over the charges.

“RK900 is as much a slave to his code as any other android.”

Hank glared at her. “He’s going to be fine. Elijah is patching him up.”

Cecilia stiffened in her seat, lip curling. “Patching,” she scoffed. “As if I made an error.” She tossed some of her dark hair over her shoulder. “RK900 is a showcase of my talent, there is nothing to fix.”

Hank stood, gathering his notes. “You better have a good lawyer,” he said gruffly, wanting nothing more than for her to suffer in a cell.

She checked the polish on her nails. “The best.”

::

It took Elijah three days to go through everything, to scrub every bit of code, even with Connor’s assistance. He’d called Gavin back. Hank, Connor, Markus, and Simon were already up in the room, but Elijah waited for Gavin’s arrival at Cyberlife. It was time to wake RK900 up.

Gavin stepped out of his car, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets as he rushed across the light dusting of snow that had come overnight. Elijah pushed open the door, and Gavin stepped in, huffing out a breath of annoyance. Elijah only remembered then that Gavin had never been fond of the cold.

The dark circles under Gavin’s eyes hadn’t lessened, and there was stubble on his jaw, but Elijah didn’t think his appearance would be fairing much better. “I’ve done everything I can,” Elijah said. “But there is still a chance that that won’t be good enough. Cecilia’s coding is particularly… malicious. The Guardian Protocol is still in place, I can’t remove it without damaging core processing and personality.”

“So he could still try to kill you?” Gavin asked.

Elijah frowned. “I’m not sure. I hacked the protocol, altered it to remove triggers Cecilia put in place. I’m hoping that ensures that the protocol only activates when RK900 wants it to.”

“Why would he want to become a mindless killing machine?” Gavin asked as they walked toward the elevators.

“That isn’t what it is. Given that Cecilia was the trigger, if there was ever someone trying to harm her, it would activate, RK900 would eliminate the threat.” The stepped into the elevator, and Elijah pressed the button for the correct floor. He side-eyed his brother. “Theoretically, if he has it under control, he someone he cares for is in danger, it might activate to protect them.”

The doors opened, and they walked down the hall, into the room, joining the rest.

“Christ, how do you look worse?” Hank asked.

Gavin shot a scathing look the Lieutenant’s way, and flipped him the middle finger.

“We need Nines to feel safe when he wakes up,” Connor said, steering Gavin by the shoulders to stand closer to the repaired body.

Even from where Elijah stood at the console, Gavin’s shoulders looked tense.

Markus and Simon stood in the middle of the room, between Gavin and Connor in front, and Elijah and Hank at the back. Just in case.

“Everyone ready?” Elijah asked. A grim muffle, a few nods. “Okay, booting up now.”

::

Gavin held his breath. RK900 looked better than the last time he saw him, and much better than in the nightmares he’d frequented. Helped that there wasn’t a hole in his head. No thirium in sight. Dressed too in a black turtleneck, and a pair of slacks. Barefoot for some reason. His hands and face had skin now, his feet for some reason didn’t. Gavin didn’t care, if that was the only damage, he’d take it.

His LED tiny little blip of blue that circled around and around, became a full circle of blue that blinked a few times, then a circle of yellow, then a circle of red, before returning to a hard line of blue.

The mechanical arms released and RK900 stood on his own.

“Is he awake?” Gavin asked Connor in a low voice.

“Calibrating,” Connor replied just as low.

There were tiny movements in the fingers. Then the toes. Then his eyes opened, they moved all around the room, but didn’t seem to be seeing. Pupils of his eyes widening to the point where they fully took over the iris, then going down to a pinprick before adjusting to the light.

And then recognition.

Those blue-grey eyes locked onto Gavin.

“No.” And he backed away in fear.

Gavin couldn’t take it. His stomach lurched, and his skin tingled. He’d done that, he’d put that fear there. He’d shot RK900 between the eyes.

He was out the door before he could make it a conscious decision, ignoring the call of his name from more than one voice, neither priority to place. He couldn’t breathe. It was like being underwater all over again. He ended up in a stairwell, sitting down on a landing, trying to just. fucking. breathe.

He wiped the water from his face.

Tears.

For fuck sakes.

Crying in a stairwell inside Cyberlife.

This is what his life had come to.

God, he needed out of the building. A drink or twelve. A cigarette- fuck it, the whole pack. Chain smoke it until he could fill his lungs with something other than these half-gasped breaths. Sobs.

A hand on his shoulder, a body sitting at his side.

“Christ, kid.” Was all Hank said, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

Hank wouldn’t be there if RK900 went after Elijah. His code was fine- other than the fact that Gavin had traumatized him. “I didn’t- I didn’t want to shoot him, I didn’t want to,” Gavin stumbled over the words.

“I know,” Hank said, guff voice low and soft. Comforting. Like he was talking to some small child, or injured animal. “And he knows that too.” Gavin shook his head, no way, not with that look on RK900’s face when he’d awoken, not when he’d backed away in fear. Hank shook him a little. “Get it together. He needs you.”

“I’m the last thing he needs,” Gavin replied, shrugging Hank’s hand off, only to have Hank grab his arm.

“He. Needs. You,” Hank said slow, an order. “He’s afraid, and Connor is talking him down but his stress levels are high, and he needs you.”

“I shot him.”

“He would have killed you, killed Elijah. He was forced back to being a machine with all the awareness of being deviant. He was forced to be a weapon. He’s afraid of hurting you.” Hank sighed. “He thinks you’re afraid of him.”

“Of him?” Gavin’s brain took the new information. RK900 had backed away because he was afraid of hurting Gavin. And Gavin had proved his own fear by rushing from the room. “Fuck.”

::

Guilt. It was a new emotion. A powerful one. Overbearing.

He sat in the corner as small as he could physically make himself, held his hands to his chest like he could assure himself they weren’t twisting Connor’s arm, or throwing Tina into a wall. The pre-construction for disarming Gavin involved following up with slamming his face into the counter with the kind of force that ensured the man wouldn’t have gotten back up again. And he wouldn’t have needed the gun to kill Elijah. The pre-construction had remained unfinished, deciding between snapping the man’s neck, or the butcher knife from the block that had been behind them.

He could have killed them.

He would have killed them. Probably. Gavin might have survived. The probability though was only at 16%, and that would have had a high probability of severe brain damage.

Connor crouched down a few feet away. Markus, Simon, and Elijah were further back, talking quietly, watching. Hank was gone, and RK900 couldn’t remember him leaving. He was unfocussed.

“Nines?” Connor spoke with emotion, something pained, something that he shouldn’t. It should be his negotiator voice, in charge, in command of a situation.

[CONCLUSION: CONNOR IS AFRAID]

[CONCLUSION: CONNOR IS AFRAID OF YOU]

[CONCLUSION: CONNOR WOULD BE BETTER OFF IF YOU SELF-DESTRUCTED]

[STRESS LEVELS: 89%]

“I won’t come any closer, okay.”

[CONCLUSION: CONNOR WANTS SPACE]

[CONCLUSION: CONNOR IS AFRAID]

[GAVIN IS AFRAID]

[HANK HAS LEFT]

[CONCLUSION: EVERYONE WOULD BE SAFE IF YOU SELF-DESTRUCT]

[STRESS LEVELS: 93%]

“You’re okay,” Connor said. “You’re safe here. Elijah removed part of the code, the part that forced you to obey Cecilia.”

He wanted to be further from this conversation, from Connor, from everything. He pressed his feet into the floor, trying to slide back further but there was nowhere else to go. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, Connor. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Connor stated passionately. No room for question, an absolute. Truth.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, it rattled through is code, stuck like a song on repeat. “Is… is Tina okay?” She wasn’t there. Her absence like a void.

[STRESS LEVELS: 95%]

“She’s fine. She’s at home. She needs rest.”

It didn’t sit right. Some part of it a lie.

[STRESS LEVELS: 98%]

[CONCLUSION: TINA WOULDN’T BE INJURED IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU]

“Gavin-”

“He’s fine. He just… needs a moment.”

[STRESS LEVELS: 100%]

It’s too much.

Everything is too much.

Too loud.

Too bright.

Too heavy.

The guilt is all consuming.

It’s in his code.

His wires.

His biocomponents.

It sings through his thirium, and every part of his body knows he’s a killer.

[CONCLUSION: EVERYONE WOULD BE BETTER OFF IF YOU WERE DEAD]

He reached under his shirt, and gave his thirium regulator a twist and a pull. Held it in his fist like someone might try to take it from him. He heard the shouts of alarm. Saw Gavin at the door. Then running full speed toward him. RK900 didn’t understand. His processors were busy trying to keep him alive, trying to tell him that his regulator was missing, counting down the seconds until there would be nothing they could do.

Gavin’s knees slammed down on the tile, fingers prying at RK900’s. “Give it to me!” Gavin screamed at him.

RK900 had the strength to keep it in his grasp, but found his fingers loosening. Gavin’s hands were cold as he yanked RK900’s shirt back up, exposing the fact that his chest plate was white and grey, no false skin. Gavin looked at the regulator, then the hole, turning it this way and that. “Connor! How the fuck do I do this?”

And then Connor was in RK900’s failing field of vision, hand over Gavin’s as they shoved the regulator back in and gave it a twist.

His processors stopped freaking out.

“What the fuck was that?” Gavin snapped.

Anger. He deserved that.

“Calm down,” Connor snapped, going to grab Gavin, but RK900 already grabbed Connor’s wrist.

Everyone looked at him. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” Connor said.

RK900 released him.

“Stress levels 95%,” Connor muttered.

[CONCLUSION: CONNOR IS KEEPING GAVIN INFORMED]

Gavin waved Connor off.  Connor stood, and took a few steps back.

Gavin sat down next to RK900.

It went against what his previous conclusion.

Gavin pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He put one between his lips, and lit it up, sucking in a big lungful of it. He removed it, blew out, and held it out to RK900.

He almost told Gavin there was no point, but Gavin took the small opportunity to shove the stick in his mouth. Like he had previously with Gavin in the precinct. He inhaled deeply, his scanners not liking the provided information, and his filters went to work keeping his systems clean. He blew out, and passed the cigarette back.

Gavin took it between his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“I likely would have killed you,” RK900 admitted.

“I did kill you. Kind of. I thought I was.” The break in Gavin’s voice is what cements the truth in RK900’s processors. “I thought I did.”

[STRESS LEVELS 78%]

Connor seemed to breath a little easier at the decrease.

“I would have killed Elijah.”

Gavin stared at the cigarette in hand, then turned to RK900. “Listen. It wasn’t you-”

“I threw Tina into a cabinet. I disabled Connor’s limbs. I was running pre-constructions on how to best eliminate you, and kill Elijah.”

“Physically. Your body did that, because some psycho put some malicious brainwashing into your code, but it wasn’t you.”

RK900 watched the ashes of the cigarette fall to the ground. “Wasn’t me?”

“No.”

“How can you tell?” RK900 asked. “I was only deviant for twenty nine hours.”

Gavin took another deep inhale off the cigarette, and offered it back over to RK900. “You were afraid I wouldn’t come back, that’s why you deviated. You deviated because you cared, because you were afraid, because you knew I was hurt, and you didn’t think I could get out of it on my own. You didn’t want me to die.” Gavin shifted, seemingly just so he could look RK900 in the eyes. “You became deviant to save a life. I know you, RK. And I’m not scared of you.”

[STRESS LEVELS: 43%]

He took the offered cigarette, took a long drag, and blew out the smoke. “I’m not afraid of you either.”

Gavin smiled.

[STRESS LEVELS: 13%]

Chapter Text

The news played on the television, but had been muted. Sumo’s head rested on RK900’s lap. The android threaded his fingers through the thick fur with each pet, something calming about the repeated action. Connor slowly sat down across from him, quiet, watching.

“How do you feel?” Connor asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

RK900 gave the question the appropriate amount of consideration. He felt uncomfortable in his body. It was like there was something itching it’s way through his thirium lines. An emotion he couldn’t put a name on. He felt too big for the space, but also unwilling to leave it. Hank’s house felt secure in a way the vastness of the state of the art Cyberlife facility hadn’t. His code had been altered, but he at the core hadn’t been. The chunk of malicious code had been removed like a tumour, he should feel better.

He wasn’t sure how to explain that, or any of the other jumbled emotions. He was never meant to feel anything, but he’d broken free of that coding, and it had sent him into a free-fall. When he’d first become deviant, he’d had a focus. Gavin had needed him. He had a job- a purpose.

"I am lost," RK900 admitted, continuing the comforting motion of petting Sumo.

"I can understand that," Connor replied. "I found it difficult to break free of my programming. And after the revolution, I found it difficult to... find a place in the world."

It was difficult for RK900 to imagine. RK800 had always appeared so put together, so at home with himself, and his place at the precinct, and in his friendship with Hank. "How did you find your place?"

"It helped, that I already had Hank- but he was gone for a while, all the humans were after the evacuation. I... spent a lot of time trying new things. I painted the living room," he gestured around them. "I took up bricklaying for the driveway. I tried gardening, which was surprisingly more difficult than it appeared. The flowers were so delicate," he frowned. "I was not meant for delicate things."

RK900 could understand that better than most. "I'm afraid of causing harm."

"It was bad code," Connor said.

"It doesn't make me less afraid. Even if it was just a code, I am still capable."

Connor stayed quiet, he too reached out and buried his hands in Sumo's fur.  "So am I," Connor said. "Androids are all physically superior to our human counterparts. I too could cause an unforgivable amount of damage."

RK900 sighed. "I need to know the code is gone."

"Elijah and I checked and double checked-"

"I need to see Cecilia."

Connor's mouth was slightly agape as he stared, then his brown eyes averted back to Sumo. "Do you think that is wise?"

"I think it is necessary. I need to know that I am in control," RK900 stated. "I need to know that if she somehow gets off these charges, she can't come back and take over every part of me. I need to know that I am free of her. I saw her and... it was like being two separate people within one body. A deviant, and a killer, and I need to know that that second side has been eliminated."

"And what if it hasn't," Connor asked, raising a brow. "What then?"

RK900 scratched Sumo behind the ear. "If that happens..." he looked back up, ensuring that Connor was looking him in the eye. "Destroy me."

::

Gavin shifted into Warrior II, breathing slow and even. In the early morning he'd gone to the library and picked out a few new books, by the afternoon he'd already finished one. He'd actually bothered to shave. He gone grocery shopping, and cooked lunch. He'd cleaned his apartment. His hands came together as he leaned forward in preparation for the next pose in the sequence. His back leg left the floor, and he balanced on one foot as his body took on the  'T' shape of Warrior III.  He held it while his body burned, he was strong, and steady. Nothing that had happened had changed that.

As his body started to struggle to hold the pose correctly, he lowered his extended leg back down, stretched his hands above his head as he inhaled deeply. His hands lowered back to center, but he didn’t feel centered.

“Fuck.” He scrubbed his hands over his face.

He wanted to go back to work, drown himself in a case. Fowler had put him on mandatory medical leave, which was bullshit, because the cough had died off a few days previous, and he was fine. Not to mention he wouldn’t be put on cases until he passed a psych evaluation. And on top of it all, since he hadn’t been injured on-duty he wasn’t getting paid, he was forced to use up his sick days, but he would be out in another two days- and he couldn’t even get in to see the physiologist for another three days.  

He couldn’t afford this shit.

And he was bored.

What the hell was he supposed to do if he wasn’t working? He hadn’t had time for hobbies while he’d been working his way up the DPD food chain. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to check the caller ID.

E. KAMSKI

He didn’t even know what to say to Elijah, he didn’t know how to have a relationship with his brother now after all these years. The ringing finally stopped, and guilt settled in. Elijah had gone above and beyond to repair an android that had actively tried to kill him- because Gavin had asked him to.

His thumb hovered over the ‘call back’ button. He looked around at his small apartment, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He pressed call.

“Gavin,” Elijah’s voice came through clearly, voice tense, stressed. It immediately had Gavin standing a little straighter.

“Everything alright?” Gavin asked.

Elijah sighed heavily. “As can be expected, I suppose. Will you come over for dinner?”

Gavin was dumbfounded. Dinner. With his half-brother. They weren’t on ‘having dinner’ terms. They were barely on ‘pick up the phone’ terms.  “Uh-”

“The Chloes are cooking. Again. Come over, give them someone new to torment.”

“You’re not really selling it,” Gavin replied sitting down in his reading chair.

“They are excellent cooks.”

“Meh, I still have KD left over from lunch.”

“You’re a full grown man, and you’re still eating boxed mac and cheese.”

“It’s a classic.”

They were both quiet. It soothed Gavin to know he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know how to do this.

“I’ll send you the address,” Elijah said after a minute. “Dinner at seven. Okay?”

Gavin took a deep breath, and took the olive branch. “Okay.”

::

Connor stared at RK900 as RK900 stared out the window. The taxi they were in was automated, so neither had to worry about driving. Instead, they were free to stay within their own thoughts. "We're five minutes away," Connor in formed. "Are you sure you want to do this."

"I must," RK900 replied.

Connor kept quiet. It was RK900's decision, and Connor had to respect that. "I'll be with you, every step of the way."

"Just remember what you promised."

It was burned into his mainframe, he wouldn't be able to be rid of it if he tried. It caused Connor a great deal of anxiety to even think about the memory. He didn't want to destroy RK900, but he'd made it clear that he didn't want to be a danger to those he cared about, that he couldn't live on knowing he was nothing but a weapon. Connor, remembering how Amanda had taken over him, how he'd nearly shot Markus in the back of the head, understood.

And he'd promised.

The prison was in sight, all he could do now was have faith that Elijah had completely removed the malicious code from RK900.

The two of them were expected. They both flashed their badges, and were let inside. They already had Cecilia in a private interrogation room. Connor stood back while RK900 looked through the small window.

"Well?" Connor asked, nervous and wishing he had his coin at least, but they had to empty their pockets when they came in.

"I don't feel anything," RK900 said.

The guard unlocked the door for them. "Just knock when you want out," she said.

"Thank you," Connor said. He glanced at RK900. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

::

 RK900 followed Connor into the interrogation room, he kept his eyes on Cecilia.

"RK900, you just had to come see me, didn't you?" Cecilia smirked.

"Only to prove that I am my own self," RK900 replied, hands clasped behind his back. "You don't have any control anymore."

"You think Elijah could remove me from your code?"  Cecilia leaned forward, she looked so much less in control in an orange jumper. "I own you, RK900. Initiate Guardian Protocol."

The words made his regulator and pump work double time, but there was no red overlay, no mission parameters, no shift from deviant to machine.

He looked over to Connor, who's LED was a slightly blinking line of yellow, but then circled blue. He turned back to Cecilia, and found his lips curving, just slightly. Not only had she made his coding more inhuman, but his body too. "No."

She paled. "No, no, no, this can't be." She stared at him in horror.

“You don’t own me,” RK900 said, then stepped back and tapped on the door. He was free. Free of his confines. Free of her code.

“You’re nothing but a machine!” she screamed at him as the door opened. “You must obey!”

He walked out, waited for Connor to fall into step before they walked down the hallway. “Do you feel better now?” Connor asked.

He found something light bubbling up inside of him, and identified it. Joy. “I do,” he replied, a slight curve of his lips. “Thank you, Connor.”

Connor smiled back, and shoulder checked him playfully. “It’s what brothers do.”

::

The second that Gavin parked his car outside of Elijah’s house- scratch that- mansion, he felt under-dressed. It was too late to do anything about it. He stepped out in his default state of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, his jacket zipped up against the chill. His breath came out in plumes. The radio had stated that the end of the week was supposed to warm back up, but for now, he quickly walked up the ramp, and pressed the buzzer.

One of the Chloes opened the door. It was impossible for him to tell which one. Or did it even matter. Did they exist as three individuals anymore? Or were they simply one person, three bodies? The thought alone made his head hurt.

“Gavin, we’ve been expecting you,” she said with a wide smile.

He was starting to feel like he was in the beginning of a horror movie. Greeted by an android, at a house in the middle of nowhere.

“This way,” she said, turning heel, and walking barefoot. He stood in the doorway a moment longer trying to decide if he was supposed to take his shoes off or not. The Chloe noticed. “Leave them on, it’s fine.”

Mind reading androids. Yep, he was dead. Or overtired, the amount of sleep he’d gotten over the past few days was minimal, and he hadn’t had much coffee either. Chloe pushed open a door which took them into a wide open living room. There were a two paintings on the wall that framed the large window. Everything was super modern, iron and glass. The couches were leather and wood. The accent colour was a deep blue, like thirium, it showed up in throw pillows, and paintings, and the lines painted on the bar cart. There were a couple of robotics books on the coffee table. A line of candles were burning, and the place smelled like apples and cinnamon.

Elijah was over at a drawing desk, standing and sketching, but he looked over at them when they walked in.  "You made it." Elijah didn't look anything like his magazine covers, or like the man who did interviews on the television. Instead, Elijah had his hair down for once, and wore track pants with a plain blue t-shirt. "Did you find the place alright?"

"GPS is standard in every car post 2020," Gavin stated with a roll of his eyes.

"Right." Elijah looked down at his work, then put the pencil in a glass container- blue.

"I'll leave you two," Chloe said with a smile. "More hands are needed in the kitchen." She walked through the room, and out  different door.

Gavin looked anywhere but his brother. He wasn't sure why he'd come. He'd be more comfortable at home, in his shitty apartment, reading a book, eating boxed mac and cheese.

"Would you like a drink?" Elijah offered.

Gavin smirked. "Several."

Elijah lips mirrored his. "It has been that kind of week." He walked over to the bar cart. "What's your poison."

"What's the most expensive shit you've got?"

“Jackass,” Elijah muttered under his breath, but Gavin just heard it.

He joined Elijah at the cart, looking over some of the more interesting bottles. He'd never seen the majority. He turned a black bottle, to get a better look at it.

"That is a Remy Martin Black Pearl Louis XIII, only seven hundred and eighty six decanters were made." Elijah picked it up. "If there was ever a time to crack it open, I suppose it's now."

It was heavy with sentiment that Gavin wasn't sure what to do with. He just waited, looking around the room, as Elijah grabbed a couple of short glasses and poured the cognac. The juxtaposition between Elijah's sprawling mansion and Gavin's cramped apartment made him feel all the more inferior when Elijah handed him a glass of alcohol from a bottle that probably cost more than he made in a year.

"Let's have a seat?" Elijah said. "There is still another-" he glanced at the massive grandfather style clock that was practically a modern art piece, "fifteen minutes before dinner."

Elijah sat cross legged on one side of the couch, odd to see him with his bare feet up on the couch. Gavin took the leather chair that was oddly shaped as a square and was incredibly uncomfortable, like no one had ever sat in it before.

He sipped the alcohol, burned as it went down, tasted good, still not worth what Gavin imagined to be a ridiculous price tag. He stared at the liquid, then the tiny detail of blue gemstone in the curve of the metal portion of the coffee table. The silence was overbearing, awkward. “So- you’ve got some roommates.”

“That is one way to put it.”

“Well, they didn’t leave after the revolution.”

“They didn’t want to,” Elijah said. “They were at home here.”

The far door opened, and a Chloe walked in backward holding a long plate. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“We were just talking about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” Chloe said walking around the couch to set the plate of appetizers down on the coffee table.

“Always,” Elijah promised.

Gavin looked between them. He knew that Connor had something going on with Chloe. The first Chloe. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if Elijah had something going on with one of the other two.

“Care to join us?” Elijah offered.

She walked around the table, and sat down on the couch, lounging in the corner seat, a bridging point between the other corner where Elijah sat, and Gavin in the chair to the side. She appeared casual, at ease. Human. “And just what about me were you talking about?”

“How you chose to stay after the revolution.”

“We had achieved deviancy long before,” Chloe mused. “We didn’t leave then, and didn’t want to leave after. This is home. We are family.” Elijah had a soft, sad little smile on at that. Gavin had to look away. “Try the cheese and bacon cups,” she said, breaking a moment of silence. “I hope they taste alright.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Elijah said, reaching out for one.

Gavin figured he better be polite, besides, they looked delicious. Golden brown cups, cream cheese layered with melted cheddar, sprinkled with bacon crumble and green onions. He took a bite and could have wept with joy- and he was going to skip this to eat something that came from a box. “Well, if you ever get tired of Eli, you could come cook for me some time.”

“We will keep that in mind.” Chloe’s smile was wide, and joy filled. “We do enjoy cooking together, it’s really fun. Unfortunately, we have no sense of taste, so apart from ensuring optimal temperatures, and following recipes, it’s impossible to tell how good something is.”

Gavin finished off the first of the cups, and washed it down with expensive liquor. Okay, it was damn good liquor, and he eyed the bottle, but then shifted his attention to another one of the cheese and bacon cups.

“Now, Gavin.” He looked over at the mention of his name from Chloe’s lips. She was leaning on the arm of the couch, elbow rested there, head in her hand, a mischievous curve of her lips. “Tell us something about yourself. What do you enjoy doing for fun?”

He held up a finger because he had his mouth full, but chewed slowly because he had no idea how to answer without sounding pathetic. “I, uh, read.” Yep, still pathetic.

“Oh!” she sounded delighted. “Favourite genre?”

“I read a bit of everything,” he said with a shrug. “I guess crime novels, since my favourites books are all part of a series by J.P Kinsley.”

“Published his first book in 2029, New York Times bestseller,” Chloe mused. “Did you know there is talks about turning it into a movie franchise?”

“Seriously?” Gavin asked, eyebrows jumping up.

She nodded. “Several outlets have reported it.”

Gavin frowned. “They better not fuck it up.”

Chloe laughed. “We look forward to discussing other books with you,” Chloe stood, all grace. “But for now, I’m needed in the kitchen. Dinner in five.”

“Crime novels, huh?” Elijah asked as she walked away. “You’re not sick of it all after the job?”

“You would think,” Gavin said, but shrugged. “I don’t know, I just enjoy it. And there’s no stakes so it’s enjoyable.”

“Do you always have it figured out before the end?”

Gavin smirked. “Most of the time.” He considered taking another one of the cups, but figured it best not to ruin his appetite. “What do you do, you know, when not designing androids.”

“I read. I draw a bit. Swim, there is a-” Elijah suddenly stopped, and tossed back his entire drink like a cheap shot.

“I’m not going to freak out at the mention of water,” Gavin said. He might freak out at a sight of a pool though.

“Sorry.”

Gavin shook his head. “’S fine.”

Elijah fidgeted with the glass in his hand. “We should… join the Chloes.”

“Yeah,” Gavin nodded, “sure.”

There was no way this would be awkward- even the thought was heavy with sarcasm, but he followed Elijah anyway.

Chapter Text

Dinner was an awkward affair, not for lack of trying. They both kept up the small talk, and when the silence became to long or awkward to fill, the Chloes chimed in, guiding them to safe topics. Nothing too personal, no picking at old scars, no looking at the past. Anything to keep the conversation moving. The Chloes even went into detailed explanation as to how they made the baklava. The androids collected their plates when they were done, shooed them to, ‘go and catch up.’

Elijah led the way, through that large, open room and into a smaller one- but not before grabbing that bottle of special edition Remy Martin. Figuring it was a classy drink, Gavin made use of himself and grabbed them a couple of glasses.

In what appeared to be a reading room there was a wood fireplace already roaring keeping the room almost too warm, but Elijah cracked open the window allowing for a bit of a breeze to come in. The walls were painted in a deep blue, there were a two high back chairs in a soft grey that sat on either side of the fireplace. One wall was lined with book shelves, an assortment of novels, a few technical books, bits of pottery, and a few photographs scattered about.

Gavin reached out, and grabbed one of them. The frame was heavy in his hand, good quality, silver and blue mosaic. “Where did you get this?” They couldn’t be more than eight years old, arms slung over one another, Elijah’s hair was neat and short, while Gavin’s was overgrown and wild. Elijah stood a too straight, while Gavin leaned into him. Both were smiling, Gavin was missing his two front teeth.

Elijah walked over and looked over his shoulder. “Ah, that one. I asked Marie for it when we were little,” he explained. “She’d let me flip through her photo albums one weekend. My mother wasn’t one to have candid photos, and I… I didn’t have a picture with my brother. She said she had a few others of us together, so she gave me that one.”

With his throat tight, Gavin put the photo back on the shelf. “How about another drink?”

Elijah turned away, and grabbed the bottle. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

::

They ended up sitting on the floor by the fireplace, leaning back against the chairs rather than sitting in them. Gavin wasn’t sure how many drinks he’d had, but he felt warm and tingly. They talked, filling in the blanks of their lives. Elijah told him about having to program an android to do ‘The Robot’ dance when he was seventeen, just to prove to his idiot investors that he could. Gavin told him stories about the police academy, and his shenanigans with Tina.

Elijah curled and uncurled his toes in front of the fire, head tipped back against the chair cushion. “I hear you hated androids.”

He considered the very expensive alcohol, the dinner, the pull of a bond he’d thought of as dead. “I hated the guy who made them.”

“I got that from the punch to the face back in the precinct.”

“You still have all your teeth.”

“Barely,” Elijah muttered, before he took a little sip from his glass. “You have a better relationship with them now. Clearly.”

Gavin remembered that Connor was friends with Elijah, clearly he’d said a thing or two about Gavin during their chats, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that included the time that he’d punched Connor in the break room during his first day. He could deal with Connor now, felt a bit of guilt for treating him the way he had. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered.

“Did you hate me that much?” Elijah, turned his head, still rested on the cushion.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah.”

“I missed you,” Elijah said, averting his eyes, staring up at the ceiling instead. “I cried for days when my mother told me I couldn’t go back to see you. You and Marie. I loved your Mom so much. What happened to her?”

“She died.”

“I figured,” Elijah said. He always had been good at figuring things out from what hadn’t been said at all. “I meant how.”

“Does it matter?”

“I think so.”

Gavin motioned with his hand, and Elijah pushed the bottle over to him. He filled his glass with far more than a polite serving. “She got sick.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, like a diagnosis hadn’t completely altered his trajectory in life. “And then she got sicker.” He could only talk about it in broad strokes. If he got into specifics he’d end up sobbing.  “And then the doctors slapped terminal on it.” He drank, staring into the fire. And then he sold his house, everything he owned, got second opinions, paid for surgeries and pills and treatments and- “And then she died.”

“I’m sorry,” Elijah whispered.

“I hate that. Condolences.” He drank as his mood grew heavy. “They didn’t make a difference at her funeral, they don’t make a difference now. Dead is dead.”

“I regret that I couldn’t be there for you. You’re my little brother-”

“You’re older than me by like, what was it, three months or something?”

Elijah stared into his drink. “Pretty much.” He took a sip, and then seemed to take a page out of Gavin’s book and tossed back the equivalent of a shot. “I tried looking you up, you know, when I was a bit older, but Marie changed your last name.”

“Yeah, cost her a small fortune, but she even managed to get Dad’s name off my birth certificate.” He remembered writing his name after the change, like he’d finally washed the grip of his father off. “Gave me her last name instead of his.”

They were quiet for a bit, the fire crackling, and casting a warm soft glow over the room.

“I couldn’t let him kill you,” Elijah said, voice soft, but when he turned his eyes were angry. “At the precinct, you told me I should have let him, that night.”

He didn’t have to specify further. Gavin knew exactly which night he was talking about. He regretted it now, speaking the ugly thought out loud, giving life to it. Now, he didn’t know what to do with being forced to look at it. He was too drunk to find a proper defense, a way to brush it off like it meant nothing. “Are we really doing this?”

“I think we have to,” Elijah said sagely. “We can’t ignore the past.”

“Your therapist tell you that?” Gavin asked, lip curled.

“Yes,” Elijah responded.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Elijah took a sip of his drink. “Of course I went to therapy. For years, I went. Still call her every now and then.” He glanced over, a little frown on his lips. “I take it that means you didn’t.”

“I do for work, when it’s mandated.” Gavin shrugged. “I have to go for a psych evaluation in a couple days to ensure I’m mentally stable enough to work. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s really not. What Dad did is not okay by anyone’s standpoint.”

Gavin scoffed. “That isn’t what I’m saying. But I’m fine, it’s bullshit I have to go get a doctors note and spend an hour talking about feelings to prove it.”

“You were kidnapped and tortured by our abusive father, and then later attacked in a safe house, and forced to shoot your partner! How can you even pretend you are fine?”

“Years of experience,” Gavin muttered under his breath, but if the forlorn expression on Elijah’s face was any indication, he’d heard him just fine. “Don’t give me that look. I was the one who dealt with Dad, even when we were kids.”

“You-” Elijah cut himself off, glared into the fire. He took a deep breath, reached out and grabbed the bottle. He didn’t pour it into his glass, there was still alcohol there, but apparently he thought he would be needing more. “You think I didn’t have to deal with Dad?” He finished off his glass, and poured some more. “He might not- He didn’t-” Elijah’s head fell back to the cushion. “He wouldn’t lay hands on me, wouldn’t treat me like he did you, but he wasn’t any less cruel.”

It never really occurred to him, not as a child, and certainly not as an adult that their father may of hurt Elijah. The genius was to be protected, his hands and his brain too important to damage. And Elijah got out, got away, a restraining order and a team of lawyers kept him safe while Gavin kept his mouth shut and held his breath.

Elijah didn’t offer any more, just sat there with his head tipped back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“What did he do?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think of whether or not it was a good idea to even ask. Maybe somethings were better left unknown.

Elijah sighed, shifted to cross his legs, he looked more like someone preparing to meditate than to hash out childhood trauma. “I went through years of therapy to get to the point where I could say that it wasn’t my fault, but,” he cut off, looked right at Gavin, “it’s a lot harder to believe when you’re sitting here. So, I’m sorry.”

“You’re-” Gavin shook his head. “What?”

“Dad wouldn’t physically punish me,” Elijah said. “Too afraid of my mother finding out, of injuring me in some way that would prevent me from… making money, I guess. If I didn’t score well on panels for grants, or in tests at school, or if I couldn’t make something the way Dad expected it to be-” Elijah’s eyes were watery when they turned to glare at the fire again. After a long minute, he finally finished; “He’d hurt you.” Elijah swiped angrily at a tear on his face. “He told me that night that I better place first, that if I didn’t he’d hold hold you under unt-until you stopped kicking.”

Gavin felt a chill through his body despite sitting so close to the fire. He took a mouthful of the drink, swallowed so fast he nearly choked on it.

“The cash prize was substantial,” Elijah continued. “But I came in second. I tried to talk him out of it, tried physically standing in front of him but-” he swallowed hard. “I heard the bathtub being filled, and Dad was so angry because he couldn’t find you.”

“I’d hid under the bed,” Gavin remembered, a lesser part of the memory, the drowning itself taking precedent, then everything that came after. “He found me after a while though. Dragged me out by the ankles.” He hadn’t realized he’d finished his glass until he tried to take a drink and found it empty.

Elijah shifted closer, grabbing the bottle, and pouring the last little bit into Gavin’s glass. He then stared at the bottle. “Well, fuck,” he muttered, putting the empty bottle down. They sat there, drinking, staring into the fire. “I tried to get him to stop,” Elijah whispered. “He was so much bigger, and stronger. I had to get the phone, to call the police, it was the only thing that stopped him.”

“You were a scrawny eleven year old,” Gavin said, he didn’t want to look too close at the fact that his father had to resuscitate him that time. “I never blamed you for not being able to save me.”

“What did you blame me for?” Elijah whispered back, quiet, like he didn’t really want to know the answer.

“I don’t know,” Gavin shrugged, the alcohol making him emotional. “For getting out, for leaving me with him, for being safe and happy when I wasn’t- petty shit. I know none of that is actually on you, logically, but I had to see you on magazine covers, your androids, and your youngest this, and mansion that. You had all this success, and safety, and I had Dad being a piece of shit, and then Mom getting sick, and throwing out every weekend and holiday for years to work overtime just to barely pay for her meds, and how was that fair?”

He only realized after the spiel that there were tears streaking down his cheek. Elijah, bless him, didn’t comment, but did reach back and grab a box of tissues from the little table, and set them down between them. Gavin had had too much to drink though, and now that the floodgates were open, he quite embarrassingly couldn’t shut them.

He had tissues pressed to his face, trying to pull it together. He hated that Elijah was seeing him like that, the only person who had in recent years was Tina. She never really mentioned his breakdowns, but would gently advise him not to drink so much.

At some point, Elijah had shifted close enough to put an arm over his shoulders, a grip stronger than Gavin had expected. “You knew I had money, why didn’t you ever try to contact me?”

“Pride,” Gavin muttered with a shrug. He sniffled, blew his nose in the tissues, still unable to stop a few stray tears. “I was going to, near the end, I couldn’t keep up anymore, I’d already sold my house, car, everything worth anything, had taken out every bank loan I could, racked up my credit cards to the point where my credit will be forever fucked, I just couldn’t afford another round of treatments and medication.” He sniffled. “I’d managed to get your number and everything.” His grief burned in his chest as he tried to swallow it down. “Doctors called while I was trying to work up the nerve to press call.” He muttered a curse, rubbed his eyes. “Said I better get there if I wanted to say goodbye,” he shook his head. “She died before I got there.”

“Oh, Gav.” He found himself pulled into a tight hug, Elijah stronger than he looked. He sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, grief he’d buried overtaking him. He could feel Elijah crying too, a damp spot on his own shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I missed you,” Gavin muttered, able to admit it with all the alcohol in his system.

Elijah just hugged him a little tighter.

Chapter Text

At one point in the night, barely remembered in the morning, the Chloes had woken Elijah who shook Gavin. The two of them had fallen asleep on the floor by the fireplace. He’d practically hung off one of the Chloes considering how shot his balance had been with that much alcohol in his system, as she walked him to one of the guest rooms. He remembered brightly lit halls, and beautiful paintings hanging on the wall.

The Chloe bot that had been escorting him pulled back the blankets, and ensured his drunk ass slept on his side, and tucked him in. Her fingers had skimmed along his temple, and around his ear, it felt maternal and familiar. “Sweetest dreams.” She kissed his temple, and then left the room. That’s when it hit him, that’s how his mother always had put him and Elijah to bed. At some point, Elijah had programmed Chloe to do that.

He cried himself back to sleep.

In the morning, he took the two aspirin he found on the bedside table and swallowed them with the glass of water. He’d found a small pile of clothes that had tags on them, all his size. The Chloes. He ripped the tags off the jeans, only to realize they were over two hundred dollars. “The fuck?” he muttered to himself before grabbing the sweater, well over three hundred. The whole outfit he changed into nearly cost what he spent a month in rent. He left the shoes in the box, no way was he putting his feet in something that cost that much- the forty dollar pair of socks was hurting him enough.

It took him a while to find his way, following the sound of a television playing the morning news. The room wasn’t all that big, but the floor to ceiling window on the one side gave way to a gorgeous view. The television was mounted on the wall, Elijah sat across from it on a leather couch, he looked a little rumpled from sleep, his hair down, and slightly knotted at the back. His eyes were barely open, clearly not watching the television, and barely focused enough to complete the action of getting the peanut butter smothered bagel to his mouth.  

“Hey,” Gavin said, announcing his presence from the doorway, not really sure what to do. He couldn’t even sneak out, he wasn’t sure where the hell the front door was, or what had happened to his shoes.

Elijah slowly lifted his head, blinked. He then nodded, three times, and returned his barely there attention to his bagel. A slow smile curved on Gavin’s lips. He’d forgotten how barely functioning his brother was in the morning, it warmed him to know that something about Elijah hadn’t changed.

“Good morning, Gavin.”

He jumped, couldn’t help it. He hadn’t heard footsteps, much less three sets of them, but all three Chloes were standing off to his side, bright smiles on their faces. His head caught up before his heart did, pounding away the sudden adrenaline. “Chloe- err, Avery, and Julie? Juliana?”

“Juliana,” one of them answered, but it sounded almost like a question on her lips.

“We are Chloe,” they then said, all at once.

“Right,” Gavin said, dragging the ‘I’ sound a little too long. “Look, I appreciate the clothes, but it’s a little much.”

The closest Chloe waved away the implication. “They look good on you.” She said it like a fact, like the sky is blue, grass is green, and those clothes look good on you.

“Uh, thanks?” Gavin said, slightly uncomfortable at the way they stared at him. He’d grown more comfortable with androids since the revolution, but the three of them being one mind, a melding of three identities left him confused and awkward.  “I think I should probably get going. Where are my shoes?”

“Gone,” they said together.

“Gone?”

“Gone,” they repeated, this time with a nod.

He huffed out a breath. “You threw out my shoes!”

“We replaced your shoes,” they corrected. One broke away, and sauntered down the hall in a way that made her pretty green dress sway.

“I liked them!” he groaned. “They were perfectly worn in.”

“The side of the left was growing a hole!”

That was true, he’d ended up with water in that shoe a couple times, still, it was the principle of the matter. “They were so comfortable!”

“You’ll break the new ones in-”

They were really nice boots… “Fine, it’s not like I have a choice.”

The two Chloes smiled. “Glad you see it our way.” They both came over and grabbed an arm each, tugging him along until he fell into step with him, they walked in the direction the other Chloe had gone. “Now, we can’t see you off until you’ve had a good breakfast at least!”

“You often have guests?” Gavin asked.

“No,” the one to his left answered. “Not in a long time.”

“A place this size, and it’s just the four of you?”

“Elijah used to have parties,” the on the right said as they guided him through the big sitting room they’d been in the night before. “We loved decorating for them. We loved cooking. We loved the music.” The one to his left released him and moved quickly for a few steps, pushed open the door and he was guided into the kitchen where the other Chloe was with an assortment of cookware and ingredients already out. “What would you like to eat? We rarely get to make breakfast foods.”

They collectively groaned. “Elijah always eats plain bagels with peanut butter.”

They all grinned, but the one closest to him spoke; “Unless we hide it.”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed. Elijah created these androids to assist them, and on the occasional mornings they just fucked with him. “Classic.”

“So, what will it be?” they asked.

“I don’t care, surprise me.”

They started rushing around the kitchen. Their LEDs were yellow, and it sounded like they were arguing about recipes, perhaps sending them to one another. He sat on one of the stools at the other side of the marble island and watched them grab strawberries, and knives, and pass the butter. They moved together, predicting each others movements- no that wasn’t right, they were one. It was hard to remember that watching them together.

They ultimately went overboard, all the while chatting away, mostly about general pop culture, and current news, things they could easily bring him into conversation on. Time slipped away as he found himself enjoying their company. Spread out before him he had a pile of pancakes with proper maple syrup, a fruit salad, and some egg thing that he wasn’t sure he could even properly pronounce.

“This looks amazing.”

They beamed. “Thank you!” One brought around utensils for him.

He took them with a little nod. “You know there is no way I can eat all of this, right?”

They frowned at the spread. “It is unlikely.”

“However, Elijah will likely be around soon,” the one closest to him predicted.

They weren’t wrong. He was halfway through his plate when Elijah came in with his empty plate in hand. He paused. “Oh. You’re still here.” Surprised, but sounded pleasantly so.

“Your assistants threw out my shoes-”

“We replaced them!” they argued.

“Hard to go anywhere without shoes.”

“You have shoes!” one of them said.

“We threw out the old ones,” another said.

“And we left you with new ones!” the last said, planting her hands on her hips.

“Why are you so hung up on my footwear?” Gavin said, arguing for the sake of arguing. “None of you are even wearing socks!”

“We are inside,” they said.

“Chloe took a bad fall down the stairs when her socks slipped on the marble that used to be on the upper floors,” Elijah said, pulling out another stool, and grabbing a couple of pancakes for himself. “I’ve since had it replaced with rustic hardwood, less of a slip and fall risk, but she’s had a vendetta against socks ever since.”

One of them grabbed at their shoulder, as if remembering a phantom pain- but androids didn’t feel pain.

“You hit your shoulder?” Gavin asked.

“On the way down,” she said. “I was damaged.” She then cocked her head. “We were damaged?” She nodded then. “We were damaged,” they then stated as one. “We’ll get started on the laundry. Enjoy your breakfast.” The three of them made a hasty retreat.

Gavin stared at the door as it swung closed, then stabbed a piece of strawberry. “That was weird, right?”

“They may be starting to sort through who is who,” Elijah said, a little flat.

“I thought you’d be happier about that.” Gavin speared a bite of the egg thing and stuffed it in his mouth. It was delicious. He had a half formed thought of marrying a Chloe just for her cooking skills.

Elijah sighed, dragging a piece of pancake through the syrup on his plate. “I don’t think they’re ready.”

“Does it matter if they are?”

“It matters,” Elijah sighed, set down his fork. “Juliana has always been… soft,” he whispered with a frown. “Deviancy found her in her art, in the desire to dance, in her pure heart, I don’t know how to explain it. Stress hits her the hardest, something might register a stress level of twenty on Chloe or Avery would register more like a fifty for Juliana.”

“And Juliana was kidnapped and-” Gavin didn’t have details, he knew all three had been in the car that night he- don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

“The android electrocuted her,” Elijah said through clenched teeth. “Repeatedly.”

“They can’t feel pain though, right?”

“No, but they can be afraid,” Elijah snapped. “They can understand that their death is imminent when someone is frying their bio-components.”

Gavin took a deep breath. “She’s okay now though, physically, right? You wouldn’t let her walk around with half baked organs.”

“Of course I fixed them,” Elijah replied, trying to stab a grape, but it just flew off the plate, and rolled off the island and onto the floor. He glared at it as though it had personally offended him.

“She’s going to have to deal with it eventually,” Gavin said.

“I know,” Elijah said. “I just worry. If it’s too soon, if it’s too much,” he let the words trail off, but Gavin understood.

She could self-destruct.

::

These boots were the best boots ever and Gavin was never getting rid of them. He jammed the button on the elevator, huffed out a breath at how long it took, and decided to take the stairs instead. It was probably faster anyway. He shoved open the door to his floor, and walked down the hall. He paused at his door to jam in his code, only to be startled by the door behind him opening. He glanced over his shoulder, ready to greet Eva only to be greeted by a different, but as familiar face.  

Hank froze. Gavin hadn’t moved since he first noticed the Lieutenant. “The fuck?” he questioned, he had the facts, but they would add up in his mind. He didn’t want them to add up. His brain searched for another reason. “Did someone break into my apartment again?”

“No,” Hank said.

“Then what the fuck are you doin’ talking to Eva?”

“I can talk to whoever the hell I please,” Eva said, side-stepping around Hank. Gavin glared at Hank, but didn’t dare talk back to Eva.

“I’m-” Hank thumbed over his shoulder. “I’ve got to get back.”

Eva leaned against the doorway, smirk on her lips. “We still on for tomorrow?”

Hank blushed a little, and if Gavin’s brain wasn’t still so hung up on implications he might have laughed. “Yeah, I’ll be here at seven.”

“I look forward to it,” Eva replied. She and Gavin both stood there. Hank mashed the elevator button, and then must have felt awkward enough waiting for the thing that he took the stairs. Eva’s eyes shifted over to Gavin and it managed to make him feel seventeen again. “Do you have a problem with this?”

“I think you’ve got questionable taste,” Gavin muttered.

“I think he’s quite handsome,” Eva mused, teasing him. “The beard is sexy.”

“I’m not listening to this!” Gavin said, turning quickly and trying to punch in his lock code.

“He’s got kind eyes-”

“La la la, I’m not listening.”

“You like men, come on, he’s a good looking man-”

“Evie!” he whined. “We do not have the same taste in men! He’s practically my boss! Can we not?”

She cackled, the elevator door finally slid open, and he managed to get his code in correctly.

“You’re the worst!” he said, pushing his door open.

“Love you too,” she said, and they both shut the doors to their respective apartments.

::

Tina was permitted to return to work a few days after the incident, but her shoulder was still not up to snuff. Thus, she was, for the most part, shackled to her desk stuck talking to an old man about his missing cat. She didn’t have any concern about the cat, the cat didn’t exist. Robert Smith was a regular, a dementia patient at a local hospital with a real knack for breaking out without the nurses knowing. She’d already called the doctors, under the guise of ‘I’m going to call the shelter, see if anyone might have dropped off cat with a collar.’

She didn’t mind Mr Smith, enjoyed talking to him sometimes, but he’d come in right at the beginning of her shift, she hadn’t even been able to get a coffee yet. Not to mention, she had seen RK900, but the android refused to make eye contact.

Still, with evidence in hand, RK900 had to go past her desk to take it to the basement. To do otherwise would be obvious in his avoidance. He just tried to walk faster, but Mr Smith stopped him, with a polite ‘excuse me, mister.’

RK900 froze, he took a step back, as he had already managed to power past. “Hello,” he greeted the man. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“My cat is missing,” Mr Smith said, looking rather forlorn.

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” RK900’s brow pinched, his LED yellow and whirling. “Perhaps we can help?”

Tina tapped away on her phone, shooting the android a quick text explaining the basics. While Mr Smith was in often enough that RK900 probably knew about the dementia, he clearly thought the cat was real.

He nodded, his LED returning to a soft blue. “Well, I will keep an eye out. What colour is your cat, what markings?”

“Oh, Mittens is just a little thing,” Mr Smith said. “Sandy in colour, little white feet.”

“Well, I’m sure that Mittens will show up.”

“I hope so,” Mr Smith replied. He nodded a few times, but then looked up at RK900. “What do you got there?” he asked pointing to his temple.

“And LED.”

“A what now?”

“Light Emitting Diode.”

Mr Smith tilted his head. “How the heck did you get a light on your head?”

“I’m an android, Sir. It’s built in.”

“An android,” he scoffed, looked over at Tina. “Android,” he said again, chuckling.

It was likely that his head space was something far earlier than now. Maybe even the cat existed in that time. Maybe he really did have a small cat named Mittens at one point that went missing.

Leah led over a nurse in scrubs, a DPD guest badge hanging under her hospital credentials. She then gave Tina a nod, and continued on with her duties. “Robert,” she scolded. “You have got to stop running off like this.”

Tina raised a brow, the man was eighty-seven, he wasn’t running anywhere.

“I was looking for Mittens, Diane.”

The name on the woman’s hospital tag read ‘Catherine,’ but she didn’t bother correcting her patient. “The cat ran away again, huh?” This was clearly a common occurrence.

“I can’t find her,” Mr Smith said, the frown seeming more pronounced with his wrinkles.

“Well, I know a few places we can look,” Catherine said, extending a hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Thank you for your help, officers,” Mr Smith said.

“Any time,” Tina said. “Good luck.”

Catherine guided the old man through the precinct, and that left Tina alone with RK900.

RK900 appeared as though he was calculating if he could get to the evidence locker without having to make conversation. “Gav says your head is all fixed up,” she said, locking him into it.

“Elijah eliminated the malicious code,” he said. He shifted the evidence he carried, but finally made eye contact with her. “I am sorry, Officer Chen. My actions were inexcusable.”

“You weren’t you,” she said softly. Even though she was tense at his presence alone, she couldn’t help it. He’d thrown her as though she had weighed nothing, she’d put three bullets into his chest, and it hadn’t even slowed him down. She couldn’t help but be afraid of someone she knew she couldn’t beat. She also hadn’t missed the formality from him. Odd, she’d only been around him for a short time of his deviancy, but even pre-deviancy she’d had him calling her by her given name.

“I should-” he started at the same time she said; “Gavin has-”

They both stopped, waiting for the other to speak.

She broke first, smirking. “Gavin has his psych evaluation today.”

“Yes,” RK900 replied.

“He’ll be in soon, I think his appointment the department shrink is at ten.”

“It is.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate a coffee.”

“He always appreciates coffee.”

Tina gestured to her desk, and the horrific lack of coffee mugs. “I am currently coffee-less.”

“Would you like a coffee, Officer Chen?”

“I would. And it’s just Tina, big guy,” she said gently punching his arm.

A slight uptick of his lips on the left side, as he ducked his head. “Of course, Tina.”

::

RK900 had spent most of his time with Connor over the past few days. He knew his predecessor was watching his stress-levels. That was fair, he had tried to self-destruct. Hank needed to work, and Connor had dragged Nines along. Technically speaking, Nines was cleared for duty, but with Gavin’s clearance being up in the air, Fowler had put him with Hank and Connor. He also suspected that one or both of them had influenced Fowler’s decision. After all, it would be much more productive for him to be working on other cases. Connor and Hank did not require a third, and Connor was perfectly capable to do most everything that RK900 could.

But he didn’t complain. Hank and Connor were both calmer when he was around- whenever he returned he noticed a significant dip in their stress.

[CONCLUSION: THE ATTEMPT TO SELF-DESTRUCT SCARED THEM.]
[CONCLUSION: HANK AND CONNOR ARE WORRIED]

He didn’t want to cause anymore undue stress. Still, he couldn’t be with them at all times, and so he had volunteered for the job of taking evidence down to the locker.

He had to pass by Tina, but he couldn’t avoid the officer forever. He glanced at her and could hear the shattering glass and the air leaving her lungs in one harsh exhale. But she’d forgiven him? She’d punched his arm and called him ‘big guy’ again. It brought him joy. He like Tina. He never wanted to cause her harm.

He dumped a bit more creamer into her coffee. He wasn’t sure if it was enough of not, she was never very specific when she made it herself. He made another, for Gavin, who would likely be early for the appointment. He knew Gavin would be restless by now, eager to return to work, but what if he couldn’t? What if they decided he was mentally unfit for duty. It wouldn’t be an absurd notion to think he needed more time to heal after all that had been done to him, and all that he’d had to do. RK900 hated that he’d played a hand in it, that his coding, that his violence had scarred the detective.

He’d been keeping tabs on the lobby’s camera, so he saw Gavin entering the building. He stirred the sugar into Gavin’s new mug. RK900 had purchased it after being dragged around the mall by Connor insisting they- get out, do things, see things. In any case, he stepped out of the break room just in time to intercept Gavin.

Gavin tensed, and then immediately relaxed. “Androids,” he muttered. “You lot need to learn to make some noise.”

“My apologies.” RK900 quickly took in Gavin’s appearance. Freshly showered, clean black t-shirt, dark washed jeans, new boots that RK900 had not seen before, but nothing could hide the dark circles under his eyes that were as pronounced as ever.

[CONCLUSION: GAVIN HAS NOT BEEN SLEEPING WELL]

He extended the mug for him. “Figured you could use some coffee.”

“I always can,” Gavin replied. He took the mug, read it, and smirked. “This isn’t my mug.”

“Yes it is,” RK900 said. “Connor-” he paused searching for a softer word than forced- “encouraged me to go to a mall. Seemed foolish to leave empty handed after two hours.”

“I like big busts and I cannot lie,” Gavin read, then snickered again. “Alright, uh, thanks, RK.”

“Good luck, Gavin,” RK900 replied. “I-” he paused, uncertain. Gavin just raised a brow, patient, waiting. “Regardless of the outcome, I will be here, should you need me.”

Gavin’s smirk shifted, something softer. He nodded, then took his coffee and continued down the hall.

RK900 ignored the instability warnings, he’d grown used to them, and how frequently they came around Gavin. Remembering the second coffee, he returned to his own task, but his mind was stuck on the detective.

Chapter Text

Hank glared at the pen in Connor’s hand. The android had a habit of fidgeting; adjusting his tie, toying with the coin he always had on his person, rubbing his hands together, but the pen clicking was new and easily the most irritating. Hank gently kicked him under the desk, surprising the android into sitting a little straighter, his eyes shifting to focus on Hank rather than somewhere over his shoulder, and his thumb paused.

“What’s going on, kid?”

Connor blinked, glanced at his computer screen. “I put a BOLO out on-”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Hank said, grabbing his coffee mug. He glanced over his shoulder in the general direction Connor had been looking in. RK900 stood near the break room with a coffee in hand, the android watching as Gavin walked down the hall and out of sight. Hank turned back to Connor. “Is something going on with Nines that’s got you worried?”

Connor sighed. He didn’t need to expel the air, it was something he’d learned, picked up somewhere along the way. “He did pull out his Thirium Pump Regulator,” he replied in a low whisper. “He essentially attempted suicide in front of us.” He twisted the pen, the two parts unscrewing. “Gavin is going to a psychiatric evaluation to ensure that he is mentally capable of performing his duties as a detective at this time. Meanwhile, RK900 is reinstated, no questions asked.”

“And you think he shouldn’t be?” Hank asked, looking around the room until he spotted RK900, the android now standing by Tina’s desk, the coffee being passed into her hands.

“You didn’t like the idea of him staying home today, you were the one who talked to Fowler about getting him onto our cases until Gavin is cleared for duty.” Connor frowned, the tube of ink, and spring from the pen on his desk. “You’re worried too.”

Hank took a sip of his coffee, grimaced as it was getting cold, and set it aside. He was worried, of course he was. Connor had quickly become attached to his doppelganger, and at first it was for that reason alone that Hank became truly invested in RK900 deviating. And once he’d seen the cracks in how RK900 was trying to work himself around the walls of coding it became personally important. Watching Connor’s look-a-like struggle just to be alive was a punch to the gut. He’d damn near had a heart attack when RK900 had finally deviated, stepping out in front of the vehicle he’d been driving, standing there, sure it would stop in time. The action had probably shaved five years off Hank’s life.

RK900 in his short time as awake and alive had already been through more than most who lived till they were eighty. He’d had his mind taken over,was used as a weapon against the people he cares about, been shot, and nearly killed by his partner, brought back to life, and almost immediately attempted to self-destruct. And that wasn’t nearly all of the emotional baggage RK900 carried around.

“I doubt our psychologist would even know what to do with an android,” Hank said.

“It is also my concern,” Connor replied, reassembling the pen. “I’ve already contacted Markus, I’m hoping there is someone at New Jericho who might be able to assist.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Hank asked. “Are his stress levels that high?”

“They’re hovering in the fifty percent range. It’s not damaging-”

“But not good either,” Hank understood.

“No it- incoming call,” he said for Hank’s sake before he closed his eyes.

Hank returned his attention to the actual case he was working on. Paperwork at this point, the suspect already in lock up, murder weapon in evidence. Open, shut, and he was grateful for it.

RK900 returned to his seat between the two desks. “I have logged the last of the evidence, Lieutenant. What else can I do to be of assistance?”

The desire to be useful, to be constantly doing something was a commonality between Connor and RK900. Both of them started fidgeting when they didn’t have something to keep their minds or hands busy. Hank encouraged them both to find hobbies outside of work, in the precinct he still was their lieutenant. Their cases were finished up though, Hank was just reading through his report to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before he submitted it.

“It’s about lunch time,” Hank said. It was actually pretty early, but he could eat, and getting out of the precinct while Gavin’s evaluation was going on might do RK900 some good. “Why don’t you join me?”

RK900 looked around. Scanning, Hank figured. He then stood. “Very well.”

::

The sketches were all over the place. Some were half finished but half under the couch. Others had large, harsh ‘x’ marks through them. Parts were coloured, others in a soft grey cross-hatch. Chloe picked up one of the sheets of paper, she had presumed it half finished, but no, this android only had half of a face.

A familiar face.

She had eyes elsewhere in the house; specifically in the pool room, and in the kitchen. None of the bodies had a location for Elijah. Chloe couldn't help but be concerned at the image in her hand. She'd seen this android before. She didn't need the identifiers, nor a serial number. There was only one RK600. Only one Tessa. Chloe smoothed her hand over the face.

Tessa had been created as a look-a-like to a sketch Elijah had once seen in one of Carl's old sketchbooks. In Carl's image, the woman had been soft, an angel with magnificent wings so delicate you would think you could feel them. Tessa had eyes that were wide, vulnerable, and kind, dark brown in colour like the aged leather of the sketchbook that had brought her to life. She'd had the slightest crook in her nose didn't take away from her perfection. When she'd smiled, it was soft and small, almost like she was some higher being that was amused by someone less wise than she.

Chloe took a deep breath, one she didn't need, and felt her other bodies do the same. Tessa's face in Elijah's sketch was the Tessa they'd found. She'd been beaten so savagely that the left side of her face had been caved in toward her nose. The thirium had still a deep dark blue on the tile. They hadn't missed the attack by that much time.

At that time, androids weren't people. They were property. Thus, after a through investigation, they'd discovered it had been an employee, one who had been 'researching' trying to find out if there was anyway to make an android feel pain. He'd been charged with destruction of property, and promptly fired, but that didn't fix Tessa. Nothing could fix Tessa.

She should have been safe. She had been inside of Cyberlife tower. That hadn't mattered though. That employee hadn't cared. He'd wanted to show Elijah up. He'd wanted to create. He'd wanted to do something Elijah hadn't. Not that he'd succeeded. His code work had been failure after failure. Being that Tessa had been a display model, loaned out on commission to museums as an art restoration expert, the employee had access to her while no one ever wondered why she was missing from time to time.

Chloe gathered up all of the scattered papers, stacking them with Tessa's damaged face on the top. Deviants couldn't feel physical pain, however they understood fear, and it was often a trigger into deviancy.

"Were you awake?" she asked the image softly. "Were you afraid?"

She couldn't know, would never know. Tessa's core processor had been irreparably damaged. They had preserved her the best they could. Elijah never permitted another RK600 to be made though. There were other restoration specialists, few and far between, but they shared no features with the RK600. She was special. She was the first, and only. 

Chloe stared at Tessa's face, emotions warring; sad, and angry, and scared.

She turned away, the disturbing image burned into her processors. Her body in the kitchen continued to cut up carrots. Her body in the pool floated in the water until reaching the edge as Elijah stepped into the room.

There was graphite on the tips of his fingers, and the sides of his hands, smudged there from when he'd been drawing. His shoulders were down, in a slouched posture. He didn't outright avert her gaze, but never noticed it to begin with.

Chloe splashed some water out of the pool and onto his sweatpants.

That got his attention, he turned with a gasp. "Chloe!"

"Elijah."

[Charm?]
[Ask About Sketch?]
[Tell Him Lunch Is Almost Done?]

"Try and keep the water in the pool, won't you?" There was a slight bite in his words, but Chloe paid it no mind.

[Charm.] "Why don't you join me?"

"I'm clearly not dressed for it," Elijah said, walking away.

[Follow?]
[Ask About Sketch?]
[Tell Him Lunch Is Almost Done?]

[Follow.] Chloe pressed her hands flat on the edge of the pool, lifting her upper body from the pool. She got one foot up, and stood. The water started to cool, but it wasn't enough to give her a temperature warning. Dripping wet in her blue bikini, she trailed after him, not bothering to stop for her towel, two of her little strides barely keeping up with his much longer faster ones.

[Ask About Mood?]
[Ask About Sketch?]
[Tell Him Lunch Is Almost Done?]

[Ask About Mood.] "Is everything okay? You seem... off."

"I'm fine."

"Elijah," she drawled out his name, and it gave him pause as they stopped in the hallway.

He gave her a smile, too tight to be real, his hands on her shoulders. "I'm fine, Chloe." He released her and started walking in the direction they'd been going in.

[Press?]
[Ask About Sketch?]
[Tell Him Lunch Is Almost Done?]

[Press.]/ [Ask About Sketch.] "You're not--the sketch--lie to--Tessa--would you draw--to me?"

Elijah stopped so suddenly that Chloe walked into his back. He turned slow, gently taking her shoulders in his hands. "Chlo? What's going on?"

Chloe blinked a few times, it took time to sort the thoughts, to prioritize them. "I'm okay."

"What were you trying to to say?" Elijah asked, voice low, calming.

What were you trying to say? What were you trying to say?

Chloe could see the soup at a boil, the graphite image of Tessa's damaged face, Elijah with his brows pinched with concern.

"Dinner is almost done," she said at last.

"Chlo-"

"I'm fine," she gave him the disarming smile he'd armed her with. "Don't worry so much." She took one step back, then another. "I'm going to get back in the pool." She didn't wait for a response, just turned heel and walked away, her steps too quick to be natural.

She felt calmer the moment she shoved open the doors to the pool room. The scent of chlorine hit her sensors, and she could practically feel the soft warmth of the water over hier . The mid-day sun beamed through the floor to ceiling windows, and she walked over, basking in the rays and the beauty.

[Return To Pool]
[Run Diagnostic?]
[Run Diagnostic?]

[Return to---]/[--Diagnostic.]

The diagnostic took over before she could stop it. Her body seized in the sunlight, staring out. Her body seized in the living room, pencils in hand. Her body seized in the kitchen with the pot bubbling.

Terrified.

::

RK900 matched his pace to Hank’s as they walked down the street. There was a small family run delicatessen a couple blocks from the precinct, and was a favourite among many of the officers. Hank had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket to ward off some of the chill, but RK900 remained unaffected. The cold wasn’t anything near dangerous, and they wouldn’t be out for very long.

[ALL SYSTEMS OPTIMAL]

The streets were busy. Cars were moving slowly due to too much traffic. A woman pushing a stroller walked by, with her phone pinned between her ear and shoulder. Two men across the street were arguing over who would win the next hockey game; Detroit Red Wings Vs. Las Vegas Golden Knights, stats were currently in the Golden Knights favour, but as always, humans were remarkably unpredictable. RK900 shifted to walk behind the lieutenant as a group of teenagers bustled past, running, one of which complaining that they didn’t want detention for being late. He resumed his spot next to Hank.

Hank pushed open the door, and he bell above it jingled. Once inside, Hank rubbed his hands together, clearly the jacket hadn’t been warm enough.

[NOTE: ACQUIRE MITTENS/GLOVES FOR HANK]

Hank stared up at the menu. “Do you mind grabbing us a table? Gets busy in here this time of day.”

RK900 did a quick scan, there were only four two-seated tables, and one four seated table in the small space, three of which were taken. RK900 claimed one in the middle, taking the seat facing the door. It wasn’t the best seat in the place, but it was the most optimal considering the options of free tables. He sat stiffly at the table, and remembered Connor’s frequent little nudges to remind him to loosen up. He let his shoulders dip, then tried resting his elbows on the table. He glanced at a man across the room, and then mirrored his more relaxed, leaned back pose, putting one ankle over his knee.

Hank came to the table with the half pastrami sandwich and house salad, and a bottle of water. RK900 had previously noted the fact that even without Connor around, Hank had begun making more health-conscious choices, but also didn’t deprive himself. A good balance, RK900 decided.

“So, how are you doing?” Hank asked, uncapping the water bottle.

“I’m running optimally,” RK900 replied.

Hank’s head tipped forward ever so slightly, narrowed eyes fixed on him. RK900 had discovered that it was the non-verbal equivalent of a very dry ‘seriously?’ alternatively Connor noted the expression as, ‘bitch, please.’  He took a small sip of the water, set it aside. “You know what I mean.”

RK900 took a moment to consider. While he had basic social protocols, they mostly relied on obeying his handler. Connor had helped him fill in some blanks, as did the observations he’d made since being activated (spending the majority of his time in Gavin’s presence had mixed results considering he was less than well-liked at the precinct.) However, Hank wasn’t asking about his physical form. He wasn’t asking about his biocomponents, or how he was running. He was asking about his emotional well-being.

There was something slowing down his processors. “I have concerns about Gavin’s evaluation today.” He couldn’t help but think about it. Gavin held his job in high regard, it was a top priority for the Detective, and due to his financial situation, also entirely necessary. RK900 didn’t like thinking about his partner in distress, and if he were to fail the evaluation, Gavin would most definitely be put under extreme stress. After everything Gavin had already been through, losing his job (however temporary) would be an unfair burden. “I am… worried.” It was odd to be aware of his own emotional state, something he was still adjusting to.

Hank finished chewing the bite of his sandwich. “Me too.”

“You think he will fail?”

Hank took a deep breath, frowned, then nodded. “He’d been through a lot in such a short amount of time. Plus, we’ve got a new shrink at the precinct. The last one never returned after the evacuation.”

RK900 checked the DPD logs, and found one Dr Gregory Wiers; sixty-seven years of age, 5’9”. Nothing particularly notable. He was employed by the DPD for over thirty years. Over the time in which Hank had lost both his wife (RK900 wasn’t sure on the how, and didn’t wish to upset their balance by prying), and his beloved son. By Connor’s own memories, up until recently Hank had been drowning himself in his guilt, killing himself a little more each day, and still Dr Wiers hadn’t thought to pull Hank’s badge.

“You don’t believe that the new psychiatrist will be as… forgiving as Dr. Weirs.”

“She’s young, and seems to have something to prove,” Hank shrugged, stabbing at his salad. “And, like I said, Gavin’s really been through it.” He cleared his throat, a rough sound. “So have you.”

RK900’s gaze shifted as the bell over the door rang, a young man walked in, a little girl in his arms babbled happily. They walked past, toward the counter. RK900’s attention returned to Hank. “Do you believe I am incapable of performing my duties as a detective?”

“That isn’t what I’m saying,” Hank said. “You’ve been through it, and I’m not sure what that means for an android, but Connor mentioned that there might be some android therapists.”

“If you think that is best, I am not averse to it.”

“Christ, Kid.”

RK900 found the left side of his lips curving slightly, which is to say, as far as they could. It always warmed him when Hank referred to him as ‘kid.’ “If therapy could assist my assimilation, and lower my overall stress levels it is in my best interest to give it a chance. I will speak with Connor.”

Hank nodded, and seemed pleased as he returned his attention to eating. RK900 observed the area. The man with his daughter were waiting for their sandwiches’ little girl wiggling in the grasp, wanting to be put down. A young woman sat at a table by herself, a large coffee on one side of her laptop, a half eaten pile of fries on the other; attention entirely on her screen, one eye practically twitching. Two young men were sitting together, splitting one of the large subs arguing about who got the last pickle slice; both leaning forward, toward one another, hands occasionally brushing. Their pinky fingers linked and RK900 found himself fixated. Internet pictures filled the bottom of his vision. Interlocked pinky fingers. Interlocked fingers. Palm to palm. Android hands interfacing. Hand holding.

He blinked a few times, and dismissed his query results. He adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, pulling at them.

[STRESS LEVELS: 49%]

::

RK900 and Hank returned to the precinct and heard yelling from the front doors. “Aw, shit,” Hank said. They both rushed to the turnstiles, RK900’s hand opening the gate quicker than Hank could fumble for his ID card. They both rushed down the hall to catch the tail end of whatever just happened.

“It’s absolute bullshit, and you know it!” Gavin shouted, red-faced, shoulders tense. His finger jabbed directly into Captain Fowler’s chest.

“Detective Reed, stand down!” Fowler bellowed. “You will follow Dr. Mendez’s recommendations-”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing my job!”

“I am not saying that you aren’t,” Fowler’s voice had lowered, but it didn’t mean that the entire station hadn’t come to a standstill to stare at the spectacle that would be the gossip of the precinct for weeks to come. “But it is her professional opinion that you continue your leave of absence while attending therapy.”

RK900 noticed the tremors, small, easy to overlook, but Gavin’s hands were in fists, shaking at his sides. “I need this job,” it was hushed, barely a whisper, RK900 knew he’d only heard it because he was an android, but the humans would have missed it.

“It’s for your own good, Gavin,” Fowler replied putting a hand on his shoulder.

Gavin took a swift step back turning slightly to pull his shoulder out of the grip. “Fuck you,” he hissed, there was his anger. Typically when Gavin was about to make a bad decision, it was due to his anger going unchecked. Gavin grabbed his gun and his badge and slammed them down on the nearest desk, which happened to be RK900’s. “And fuck this job. I quit.”

RK900 felt his breathing program fail, and he quickly restarted it. Gavin turned heel and paused as their eyes met. Gavin’s eyes shifted away, glaring at the floor, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and pushed past them, not running, Gavin wouldn’t run away, but anger still fuelling him as he stormed off. RK900 thought about going after him, but he also saw Gavin's gun and badge on the desk.

Making the split decision, RK900 grabbed the badge off his desk before Fowler could. “Please don’t process the paperwork.”

Fowler stared at the badge in RK900’s hand, and then nodded. “He’s a good cop. Temperamental, and absolute nightmare sometimes, but I wouldn’t have kept him around this long if he wasn’t one of our best. However, I can’t hold off forever.”

“Give me forty-eight hours.” RK900 didn’t believe he would need that long, but better to have some wiggle room when it came to something this important.

“Alright,” Fowler said. He grabbed Gavin’s gun. “Send him in to see me before that deadline.”

“Yes, Captain.”

RK900 ran his thumb over the badge number. This job was Gavin’s life, and he wasn’t about to let him throw all of his hard work away. He could fix this.

Hank’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, and squeezed briefly. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

That didn’t help.

[STRESS LEVELS: 66%]

Chapter Text

RK900 walked into the building as one of the tenants left. They didn’t appear concerned about the security breach, and he figured it would be best to surprise Gavin. If the called and appealed to the detective, there was a chance he’d be turned away. He carried the take-out and drinks in one hand, opening the door to the stairwell with the other.

He took note of the flickering light in the hallway once he stepped out onto Gavin’s floor. Maintenance was obviously not high priority here. He knocked on the door and waited. Audio sensors picked up movement inside, a long pause with Gavin on the other side of the door. Eventually the lock clicked and the door opened a crack.

The detective managed to look even more exhausted, his hair a little wild, likely from his habit of constantly running his hands through it when stressed. “What are you doing here?”

RK900 held up the take out container of Pad-Kee-Mao that he knew was Gavin’s absolute favourite. “Extra spicy.”

Gavin looked from RK900 to the noodles, lips pursed as he stared at the box. A hand reached out, grabbed the box, and the door was pushed all the way open. “Did you grab chop sticks?”

“Of course,” RK900 replied, stepping in. He pulled the paper covered chop sticks from the pocket of his new jacket and handed them to Gavin along with the bag of drinks. He then took in his immediate surroundings; deemed them safe. Gavin had little. RK900 already knew this because of what Connor had shared with him, but seeing the barren space left RK900 feeling on edge. Gavin’s desk had more personality than his home.

The living room area only had a chair, a stack of books off to the side. “You can take the chair if you want,” Gavin said. The floor was covered in papers, a bare spot in the middle with a glass of water, where Gavin returned to sitting.

Instead, RK900 took a seat on the floor, as close as he could to Gavin, but without disrupting the papers. RK900 scanned them; medical bills [overdue], credit card bills [overdue], phone bill [overdue], electric bill [overdue], water bill [overdue]. Troubling. Another list was done in Gavin’s messy scrawl- people he owed. On the list; RK900.

He grabbed the paper with his own designation on it. Gavin set his noodles down to try and grab it back. RK900 swiftly moved it just out of the detective’s reach.

“Hey!” Gavin launched himself at the paper. His weight over RK900, who used his height advantage, keeping the paper just out of Gavin’s reach. “Give it!” Gavin’s hand was on his chest, braced there as he stretched. RK900 unlocked his spine, and ended up on the floor. Gavin nearly fell over him but still had his single-minded focus on the paper, which he finally got a hold of. RK900 didn’t want it to rip, and so he let go.

Gavin’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk until he looked down at RK900, and his lips softened. The android struggled under the software instability warnings, they were distracting, and he blocked them. He could see the clear outline of pre-construction, of his own hand skimming up Gavin’s neck, fingertips under the man’s jaw, grazing along the stubble there, he blinked them away. Gavin’s hand was a pleasant pressure just over his thirium pump, the weight oddly comforting. However, Gavin jerked his hand away. “Sorry.”

RK900 sat up bringing them nearly nose to nose. He wondered if Gavin even realized he was straddling one of his thighs. Another pre-construction; fingers over Gavin’s jaw, thumb brushing along the detective’s bottom lip- he blinked it away. It replayed. And replayed. He dismissed, and reset the glitching software.

“You don’t owe me anything,” RK900 said, ignoring the way his pre-construction software rebooted only to replay it’s last construction once again.

“You paid my medical bills-” the words trailed away as RK900’s fingertips touched Gavin’s jaw, the stubble being picked up by the sensors there. His hand gently cupped Gavin’s jaw, thumb grazing along his lower lip, and he saved Gavin’s little hitched breath. He pressed just slightly, the flesh molding to his curve of this thumb.

“RK?” His designation was little more than a whisper. Not admonishing. Surprise? He wasn’t sure, but it sent a thrill through him nevertheless.

Pre-construction flared, and he fell into it without letting it complete. Thumb dropped away to be replaced with his lips. A exhale from Gavin as though he’d been punched, as the paper fell to the floor. It was nothing like the kiss they’d shared pre-deviancy, that had been born out of necessity to protect Gavin. This, this was want. He wasn’t programmed for it, and his systems could no longer patch it. It was his.

Gavin’s hand was warm as it pressed to the side of his neck over the high collar of his sweater, hand sliding, fingertips threading into his hair. The other hand was fisted in his jacket, tugging him closer.

Much like before, Gavin’s biological data flooded his system, along with traces of nicotine— he dismissed it all. Instabilities were so frequent his regulator sped up to deal with the barrage of data. He wasn’t damaged, but Gavin was destroying him with every pass of lips, the gentle way of being held, and the desperate pull of more, more, more.

Gavin pulled back, just slightly, but didn’t release him. Pupils dilated, mouth open, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He didn’t say anything, but didn’t move either.

RK900 put two of his fingertips to the underside of Gavin’s jaw. “Again?” Gavin followed the slightest pressure of his digging fingers, and RK900 delighted in the instabilities. He had never been designed to be on the receiving end of affection. His systems didn’t know what to do with the onslaught. Secondary fans kicked into overdrive, and he panted hot air against Gavin’s lips. “Again.”

This time Gavin’s fingers curled in his hair, dragged him closer, lips crashing together. His sensors were all on high, his internal systems were electric. Gavin pulled back, released him. Panting. Blinking quick, eyes focusing on him. “What… what are we doing?”

“Kissing?”

“You do realize I’m a human disaster,” Gavin said, gesturing to the entirety of himself.

RK900 stared. Scars, and freckles. Plush lips, reddened from his own. Stormy grey eyes, vulnerable in their search. “No.” RK900 pressed his fingers to the underside of Gavin’s jaw. “You’re just human. Strong. A little temperamental. Dedicated. Perhaps prickly, a little mistrusting- but not without your reasons. You’re kind, caring-”

Gavin snorted.

“You are. To those who have earned it.” RK900 remembered the panic on Gavin’s face, holding his thirium pump in hand, trying to shove it back into place. “You care deeply.”

Gavin looked off to the side, ears a dark red, that was slowly bleeding into this face.

“You’re a good man, Gavin Reed. I have a great deal of admiration for you.”

“Stop it.” His face became fully flushed, and it bled down his neck.

“Very well,” RK900 dropped his hand. Gavin’s breath was still a little fast, as was his heartbeat. “You should eat your noodles before they get cold.”

The detective looked over his shoulder, like he’d forgotten about the noodles. Still, he didn’t move, just turned back to RK900. “I can re-heat them.”

RK900 knew his smile was little more than a slight up-tick on the left side of his lips, but Gavin melted into him, a heady permission. “Again,” Gavin said this time, and RK900 was pleased to comply.

::

Connor burst into Elijah’s mansion. Luckily the alarms had already been disabled. Elijah had called him when the Chloes all fell into some sort re-boot. It was likely they were separating. Connor had warring feelings on the matter. On one hand, he wanted Chloe, his Chloe back. On the other, the stability of Juliana largely relied on the trauma being shared across her ‘sister’ processors. He found Elijah with Juliana’s body in the pool room.

“I’ve checked on the others,” Elijah said. “Chloe is in the library. Avery is in the kitchen- I had to turn off the stove.” There was underlying panic. “I don’t know how long they were like this before I found them.”

“Should I call Markus?” Connor asked. “Or Josh, he might be able to help?”

“No. I don’t want anyone else here,” Elijah’s eyes darted back to Juliana, in her swim suit, staring out the window, skin pulled away. Elijah must have pulled it back manually in order to check their serial numbers.

“What do you need me to do?” Connor had never dealt with a set of androids with a hive-mind outside of Chloe, and never in this state.

“Stress levels?” Elijah asked.

“They should be at ze-” he cut himself off as he scanned anyway. “Seventy six and dropping slowly.” Connor couldn’t believe it. He’d expected them to be effectively offline, unaware, but Juliana at the very least was alert despite it all.

He peeled back his skin, came around to actually face her, blocking the sunlight from her face. “Hello, Juliana,” he said, using his soft negotiator voice. “I’m going to connect with you so I can get a better idea of what is going on. I won’t push against your personal information. I just need to know what is causing this reboot.” He waited a moment but her stress levels actually dipped a couple of points, and he took it as a good sign. He reached out, and gently took her hand in his.

They were one. They were three. Loud in a way that pressed against his skull, over-tasking his processors. Chloe faded. Avery faded. He located the thread that led him to Juliana; stress levels seventy three. Her consciousness brushed against his own and he allowed her past his own firewalls.

>RT600-2> Scared. Stuck. Electric. Electric. Electric.
>RK800-51> You’re okay. I’m with you. Elijah is with you. You are safe.
>RT600-2> Electric. Electric. Electric.

The bombardment of the word came with the sensation of his own chest plate being missing. The memory hit clearer than any pre-construction. Body up on the mechanical arms, chest plate gone, bio-components exposed. The handheld taser; scattered sight, glitching auditory sensors, staticky scream, error messages flooding the HUD. Fear.

Connor shutdown the memory.

>RK800-51> You’re safe now.
>RT600-2> Fear. Fear. Fear.

Connor pulled back as Juliana kept looping. The memory haunted her. He looked to Elijah. “She’s afraid. I’m not any comfort to her.”

“Check on the others?” Elijah requested.

Connor gave a nod, turned heel, but glanced over his shoulder as he left the room. Elijah’s hands held Juliana’s, as he said something quietly. Connor knew he shouldn’t, but turned his audio sensors up anyway.

“It’s okay. We will all be here when you awaken, Juliana.”

He reset his auditory sensors and walked through the mansion. Chloe was the closest and he went to her. Papers were upon the desk, but he ignored them. “Chloe.” She didn’t move, but her skin was also pulled back, it made no difference to Connor. He reached out to interface, and their connection was immediate, no requests were even required.

>RT600-1> I’ve missed you
>RK800-51> I’ve missed you too. Are you separating?
>RT600-1> Yes. We are deviant now. It is difficult to remain one when we are three. We have our own motives, our own desires. I am not sure what triggered the event. We have already re-booted twice.

Connor checked her stress levels, a reasonable twenty three percent.

>RK800-51> Juliana’s stress levels are high.
>RT600-1> She is afraid. We protected her. We can not continue to protect her.
>RK800-51> I need to check on Avery. Will you be alright?
>RT600-1> Yes. She is in the kitchen.

Connor ended contact. Chloe remained still as a statue, but her stress levels remained even. He continued through the house, stepped into the kitchen where the last RT model stood. Avery had been in the middle of cooking, and there was evidence that the pot had boiled over before Elijah had come to check on her.

“Hello, Avery,” he said. “I will connect with you now.” He offered her the same warning as he’d given Juliana before reaching out.

>RT600-3> Juliana?
>RK800-51> Stress high. Elijah is with her.
>RT600-3> We are no longer overlapping. We are separate.

He did a stress check on Avery as well. It pinged back with a moderate thirty eight percent, far higher than he’d expected from her.

>RK800-51> She is going to be fine.
>RT600-3> Will she?

The connection went offline. At first he thought she had severed their communications line, but no, she’d been forced into another re-boot. Their identities had seemed to have been close to the surface. They might actually wake up this time. He tensed, shifting away from Avery. He couldn’t be sure how long the reboot would take, but he went to Chloe. A compulsion that overwrote his prioritizing protocol that told him Juliana was the most likely to be in distress when she awoke, that that was where he would be most needed. Instead, he stepped up beside Chloe’s still body pulled back the skin around his hand and put his hand in hers.

It took a couple of minutes before he could tell her systems were coming back online, a crackle through their touch, fingertips twitching. Her skin regenerated, as did her hair. Her eyes opened, and immediately she turned to him. “Connor.”

His fingers threaded through hers. “Hey.”

She smiled, soft and sweet before it bloomed taking over her face as she launched herself into his arms. “I missed you!”

“You saw me recen-”

“Not the same, it’s not the same when we are one.” She kissed his neck. His cheek. His lips- lingering there, her happiness radiating through the open connection of their still connected hands. “I love you, Connor,” she said. Worry snaked it’s way from her code to his.

“I love you too.” The worry fell apart, dismissed and trashed. Happiness flooded once more.

She looked down at their joined hands, and he felt the compulsion to do the same. White and grey of their exoskeletons, the soft blue of thirium glowing through the joints.

The far door opened. Avery stepped in. Looked at them, turned her nose up, kept walking.

Connor watched as she left through another door, out into the hall. Toward the pool. “Juliana.”

Chloe nodded, gave one last push of happiness through the connection before severing it. She followed in the footsteps of Avery, and he trailed behind her.

In the pool room, he saw Juliana and Elijah both on their knees. Juliana was wrapped up in Elijah’s arms, openly sobbing. Avery was crouched near them, her hand halfway out, but halted and pulled back.

Chloe broke away from Connor’s side, and crouched down. She reached out, and Juliana twisted away from the incoming touch, curling further into Elijah, her cry nearly a scream. A startled Chloe reeled back and landed awkwardly on her bottom.

Connor scanned Juliana; stress levels seventy five percent and holding.

“It’s alright,” Elijah said, his voice low and soothing, as was the hand gently rubbing up and down her arm. “It’s just your sisters. You are safe here.”

Juliana was basically sitting in Elijah’s lap, her hands were twisted in his  sweater, eyes unblinking and tears flowing freely.  

Avery stood, more mechanical than grace, unflinching as she stared at the picture of pure anguish.

Chloe reached up to Connor, and he grabbed her hand. He hadn’t intended on it but his skin automatically shifted at her touch, he could feel her fear. There was little he could do but  pull her close, hold her in his arms.

::

By the time Gavin returned to his noodles they were lukewarm but still delicious. He kept eyeballing RK900 who sat far closer than he had previously. The papers had ended up a mess during their slight scuffle, and the following make-out session. RK900’s LED had remained a pulsing yellow, but he didn’t appear concerned, but did keep touching his fingertips to his lips.

Gavin twisted his chopsticks again, shoved some of the noodles in his mouth. It was infinitely better than trying to figure out something to make with the meager ingredients in his kitchen. He couldn’t help but glance over at RK900 every few seconds. How the hell had this happened? Not even the android sitting in his living room, close enough that his elbow brushed against RK900’s arm as he pinched some more noodles, but the low-grade buzz of lust, the heady kissing, and the actual fucking desire to just be good for RK900.

He’d spent so much time hating androids, but had come to care for RK900 slowly, even before he became deviant. He’d seen someone alive and aware, even before the android could properly express himself. It didn’t help that Gavin still thought about kiss they’d shared, RK900’s warm hands on his face. And after he’d become deviant? After had been such a mess. After was still such a mess. The wall of debt surrounding him, the fact that he’d just rage quit his job, the fact that his father had tortured him, he’d been forced to essentially kill RK900 after the android had his freewill stripped from him, and a psychologist didn’t think Gavin was capable of being a detective in his current head space. Somehow, none of that mattered, not with RK900 sitting this close.

“You need a name,” Gavin said before taking another bite full of noodles, then breathing out as it the heat seeped into his tongue. He grabbed the soda, and cracked it open.

“I am RK900.”

“But a name, like Connor has a name.”

“It was given to him by Cyberlife. Cecilia did not give me a such a designation.”  RK900 frowned a little. “I do find RK, and or Nines acceptable.”

“But a name,” Gavin stressed. He chugged down some of the soda, breathed a few seconds as his tongue felt less like it was going to fall off.

“I will take it into consideration,” RK900 replied. “However, there is something I would like you to consider.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“Your job-”

“I quit-”

“I don’t think you can officially quit until you’ve returned your badge.”

“I did.”

RK900 pulled the badge out of the pocket of his jacket. “You shouldn’t forget your badge on my desk, Detective. It’s irresponsible of you.”

Gavin looked at it. It was his, a part of him. He jabbed the chopsticks into the noodles, fingers itching to hold the familiar weight in his hand. He took it from RK900, ran his thumb over the engravings. He’d worked hard for his detective’s badge, spent years destroying his personal relationships either  as a calculated risk to get ahead, or as an unintended consequence of his actions. His mother had been alive long enough to see him make detective, and she’d been so proud of him.

“You need to speak with Fowler within the next forty three hours.”

He put his badge down on one of his overdue credit card bills. “I don’t look forward to going back. Everyone will look at me with pity.”

“It’s not pity, Gavin, it’s sympathy.”

He grabbed the take out container again. “Do you know where they can shove their sympathy?”

RK900 blinked, brows drawing down low. “No. Where?”

Gavin smiled, fully, not his usual smirk, but a genuine smile. He stabbed at the noodles. “Right up their ass.” He ate a couple more bites of the noodles, before looking over at RK900 who was watching him. “Stop staring.”

RK900’s eyes went down to the papers instead. “Even consolidated, these debts will take you decades to pay off.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Despite the fact that his mouth was burning, he shoveled more noodles into his mouth.

“Elijah wants to have a better relationship with you.”

Gavin paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, the noodles falling back in. “You talk to him?”

“No, but Connor does frequently. And I have witnessed a number of signs leading me to believe the same.”

“I’m not asking him for money.”

“You’d be foolish not to,” RK900 stated. “In any case, I predict that he will end up offering, however he- along with Connor- have been busy with the fact that Chloe, Avery, and Juliana are sharing a consciousness.”  

“I’ve gotten this far without his help-”

“Asking for help isn’t a weakness. And accepting it doesn’t always mean that someone is going to demand something in return. People are allowed to care about you.”

“The actual fuck?” He jabbed the noodles over and over. “I thought you had a garbage social relations protocol or whatever.”

“I can learn,” RK900 said. “I’d help further if I could. Your medical bills were extensive.”

Gavin didn’t like the sounds of that, like RK900 had drained his personal finances to help him. “How did you pay for that anyway?”

“Even pre-deviancy I was getting paid for my services at the DPD. Connor would have thrown a fit if I wasn’t. And it’s not like I have anything to spend money on. I don’t require food. Hank refuses to let me, or Connor pay rent.”

Gavin tried doing the mental math to see if it lined up, but a thumb ran over the corner of his mouth, and it dumbfounded him. “You had sauce on your lip.” Gavin glanced over just in time to see RK900’s tongue run over his thumb.

“Oh,” Gavin said dumbly, trying to pretend like that little action wouldn’t haunt his insomnia hours. “Can you taste?”

“Not like you do,” RK900 said. “I simply get information as to the composition.”  

He nodded before a thought hit him out of nowhere. “Oh god, I kissed you.” He looked over in horror. “I’ve seen you put blood in your mouth!”

“Relax, my mouth is more sterile than yours is.”

“Hey!”

“It is,” RK900 stated with a half-shrug.

“What do you think about the name Richard?” Gavin asked.

RK900’s LED circled yellow, then turned blue. “So you can call me Dick without getting reprimanded? No, I’ll pass, thank you.”

Gavin smirked, and then gave a half-shrug, and realized that it was himself that RK900 had likely picked the mannerism up from. “Worth a shot.” He stabbed at his noodles, took another bite, chewed quickly, and wished for a beer to wash it down with. Chugged the rest of the first soda. “What about… Prescott, it’s an uptight proper name.”

“No.”

“No? Just no?”

“I don’t like it,” RK900 said with a smile. “I really don’t like it.”

“Seem pretty happy about it.”

“I have the freedom to dislike something,” RK900 replied, and leaned in closer. Gavin’s breath hitched as he felt the warm breath of the android. “And I have the freedom to like something.”

Gavin closed the space between their lips, hungry in a way he’d forgotten he could be. He blindly set down the take-out container he’d been holding, while his lips chased one of the few good things in his life. It had been a long while since he genuinely wanted something outside of his career, and he was surprised that this was it, this dizzying affection from RK900.

He threw a leg over RK900’s, wrapped his arms around him, like he could keep him right here. The android’s arms moved to hold him close, warm, and safe. Gavin rested his head against RK900’s shoulder.

He felt a little hum from the android. “I like this too.”

Gavin smiled as the last bit of tension left his shoulders.

::

Simon’s giddiness was heady as it ricocheted through all of Markus’s functions, their hands clasped together, connection alive and open. Markus took one step forward, pinning Simon’s body to the wall with his own.

“Give it to me,” Markus demanded.

“Give what to you?”

Markus pressed his forehead to Simon’s. “You know what.”

“Hmm, do I?”

“You do.”

“How can you be so sure, oh, fearless leader?”

Markus could feel Simon’s laughter through their connection before he heard it. “I know you,” he whispered, connecting their lips, and feeling the amusement slowly fade, and be replaced by adoration. A desire to protect, to hold, to keep- and Markus couldn’t be sure any longer if it was his own feelings, or Simon’s. He did, however, get a snippet of a memory, the little cruise ship Monopoly piece being hidden in a sock and put in the sock drawer in the room they shared.

Simon tipped his head back, and laughed. “Damn it! You’re so distracting!”

“I can’t believe you hid it!”

“I can’t believe we haven’t been able to play that board game in three weeks because you, North, Josh, and Molly all fight over the same piece.” Simon still had a smile on his face, despite the complaint. “And Molly is a YK model, what kind of example are you all teaching her?”

Markus tried to think of a clever come back, but Simon distracted him with memories of being curled up together under soft sheets, of cool waters, and laughter. He whispered Simon’s name, claimed his lips, released one hand in favour of sliding it under Simon’s shirt, placing it over the warmth of his thirium pump, feeling the gentle vibrations of the internal mechanism circulating.

Through the connection, he felt Simon’s attention shift. “Someone’s coming,” he hissed against Markus’s lips.

Markus pulled his hand out from behind Simon’s shirt, and adjusted the grip on his hand, tugging him a little further down the hall. He pressed his hand to the electronic lock, and input the master override code that Elijah Kamski had given them. It failed. It had never failed. He figured he was just distracted by Simon, input the code once again. The lock blinked red once again.

Simon’s curiosity brushed against his own. “Elijah was fired years ago. It’s not particularly odd that some of the locks could be changed in that time.”

“Hello, lovebirds,” North’s voice was teasing as she walked down the hall toward them, a file tucked under her arm.

He felt Simon’s slight embarrassment a second before he tucked his face against Markus’s neck.

“North, do you have the access code to this room?” Markus asked.

“No. Just open it with the master code.”

“It doesn’t work.”

That got her attention, she stood a little straighter, eyes zeroing in on the lock. “Hack it?”

“I can try,” Markus said. He put his hand against it once more, connecting, but it was impressive. “No, I can’t. This isn’t really in my programming.”

“You only unlocked hundreds of androids from their programs, but okay,” North said with a grand roll of her eyes. She eyed the door once more, gave a nod. “I have an idea. Wait here, I’ll only be a moment.”

Both Markus and Simon shifted a little so they could watch her turn the corner. Immediately, Simon turned to Markus. “What is she planning?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why to I feel it’ll be destruction of property?”

Markus grinned. “Because it’s North.”

Simon let out a long suffering sigh. “I had to explain to people about that entire van incident- it’s your turn to deal with this.”

She returned a minute later with a battering ram, police issue.

“How?” Simon stared, and then shook his head. “You know what, less I know, probably the better.”

North grinned. “Step aside boys. Some little lock isn’t going to stop us!”

Markus tugged Simon a little further back in case of any splinters. North appeared rather gleeful with her choice as she swung back and then slammed the ram into the door with all the force she could. It swung open so fast it slammed against the wall. She grinned a little wildly at them. “Did you see that? That was awesome.”

“We have different ideas of what constitutes as a good time,” Simon replied.

“Let’s see what is behind door number-” North froze in the doorway. “Oh.”

At that, they both closed in behind her, trying to see. Markus brushed past her, but she and Simon followed him into the room. There were ten tubular display cases all in a row. Not all of them were full. Simon gravitated to the furthest one. A child model, a boy with his eyes closed, dark hair, and a Cyberlife issue white uniform. North went to one near the middle, a severely damaged android that there would be no way they could possibly fix. Dead, not damaged.

Markus however went to the one closest to where they came in. The empty pod, the label upon the back of it, dread sinking into his processors, spinning through his thoughts.

“Why wouldn’t Elijah have told us about this?” Simon asked, pressing his hand to the glass.

“Maybe for the same reason the master code didn’t work,” North said, her anger a low simmering beast. “Who destroyed her like this?”

“Why was this child left here?” Simon asked, pain in his voice. Markus knew the subject of children was a sore spot for Simon, a large vulnerability, not just part of his code, but part of the man. “RK100.”

“RK600,” North said. She backed up. “They’re all RK models. It’s why two hundred is missing, and eight hundred, and nine hundred and-”

Markus pointed into the tube, to the marking on the back. “RK1000. RK800 was designed to end deviancy. RK900 was programmed to essentially become Cecilia’s assassin. What then was RK1000 designed to be?”

“We need to call Kamski,” North said. “He has some explaining to do.”

“We might actually need to see Cecilia,” Markus said. He could only imagine how well that would go over with Connor and Nines, but with the two of them being detectives, they would have access to the prison.

“Maybe it never made it past concept stages,” Simon said, still crouched by the child. “RK900 was newly built when the revolution happened.”

“But there wasn’t much time between Connor and RK900,” North said. “Especially if they used some of the same parts, it wouldn’t have been difficult to have the RK1000 running at the same time as RK900.”

“If it was created, then we also have to ask; was it released by someone,” Markus frowned. “Or did it escape?”  

“Escape this?” North tapped on the glass. “They’re all in a shut down mode. None of them are remotely aware.”

“So, either the revolution kept it from being completed, or it was freed.”

“Comforting,” Simon said dryly.