Chapter Text
A loud bang came from the room upstairs.
"Gavin!" Connor yelled.
He sprinted up the stairs. First there was silence, then it was followed by another gunshot.
Connor kicked the door wide open. The world stopped. Gavin Reed was on the floor, face down and limp. Blood started pooling under him, staining the floor red.
Zlatko caught sight of him and fired a bullet in his direction, which Connor dodged at the last second.
He quickly pulled his gun while running as Zlatko emptied the magazine at him. Some fragments splintered his arms and legs. Blue blood splattered everywhere.
The room exploded with wood, cloth, and glass. Zlatko didn't care for anything else. He wanted Connor dead but he wouldn't let that happen.
Connor waited for the right moment to strike. He calculated the exact distance between them. When he heard the metallic clink from Zlatko's gun, Connor aimed his at the man.
He let the bullet go, piercing the man through his leg. Zlatko wailed in pain and quickly dropped to the floor. He made a futile attempt to raise his gun at Connor but it was empty.
Connor took that opportunity and lunged at Zlatko, pinning him down. A harsh thunk reverberated in the room.
"You fucking android!" Zlatko yelled beneath him. "I will watch you burn and melt, you fucking piece of plastic!"
Connor felt a rising anger inside him. "You will watch yourself rot in prison instead," he said and started cuffing the man's arms.
Footsteps rushed inside the room. "Where is he?" Hank exclaimed. He saw Gavin on the floor and immediately went to him.
Chris and the other policemen entered the room. They quickly approached Zlatko, who Connor refused to let go of. "We'll take it from here, Connor."
He stood up and watched them reprimand the man. Connor suddenly remembered Gavin. He quickly kneeled beside him.
Gavin was still breathing. "Help me, Hank!" Connor exclaimed. The two of them lifted Gavin and carried him on their shoulders.
"Let's take him to the ambulance," Hank said and they started walking.
It all finally dawned on Connor. A gnawing feeling of guilt and a bitter relief. He was too slow to prevent Gavin from being harmed. Maybe he should have been with Gavin all this time. Maybe he should have guided his every action and decision along the way.
It was an ugly feeling.
Police had completely taken over the mansion. The group members were reprimanded and searched thoroughly in the living room.
"Gavin!" a woman with cuffs on her wrists shouted. That must have been Emma. Connor heard everything between those two. It wasn't a pleasant feeling as well.
"Where are you taking him?" she exclaimed.
Connor ignored her. "Let's hurry, Lieutenant," he said.
They reached an ambulance but a hurt police officer was already being treated there. A gunfight did happen in the basement then.
"Right here, son," Hank led them to an empty one. "He was shot," he informed the medical responders.
Connor scanned Gavin. He had two gunshot wounds, one on his right arm and one on his right shoulder. He relayed the information to the responders who nodded to him and instantly went to work. Gavin was injured but Connor had full confidence that he'd be all right.
"Gavin," he called. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there quicker," he muttered.
"It's not your fault, Connor," Hank reassured him.
The responder applied pressure to Gavin's wounds. Gavin groaned and muttered something groggily.
"What was that, Gavin?" Connor leaned in. It's a good sign that he was conscious. Connor logically knew that it wasn't as serious, but he still felt like Gavin could die any second.
"Dip . . ." Gavin muttered.
"I'm listening," Connor waited patiently. He felt glad that Gavin could talk. What was he saying though?
"Dip . . . dipshit," Gavin gritted out.
Connor pulled back and examined the little detective. "Are you . . ."
Gavin, out of nowhere, started laughing weakly. He cracked his eyes open and a mischievous glint appeared on his face. "I said you're a dipshit," he said, humoring himself.
Connor scanned him. His blood pressure was low and his pulse was thready.
"What took you so long? I . . . could've died," he said, his tone accusing. His voice was weak. That made Connor even more guilty.
"You scared me, Gavin," Connor scolded him, frowning.
"A gunshot to the arm? Come on, tin can. You know better," he smirked. It was quickly wiped away by a grimace as the responder tweaked with his wound.
"No perforations. I'll stabilize the wound for now. We'll take you to DMC and have your wounds treated there," she announced. "What's your blood type?"
"He's O negative. Can we come with?" Connor asked. He really couldn't think of Gavin being alone again. He shouldn't care for the little detective that hated him, but he did.
"Of course," she nodded.
"Fuck . . . that hurts. How'd you fucking know my blood type?" Gavin grimaced again, muttering to himself.
"Go on, Connor. Go with Gavin. I'll stay with Chris and clean this mess up," Hank said.
Gavin looked pretty shaken up. He stared off into the distance while the responder hooked him up to the machine.
"You're fine now, Gavin. You'll be alright," Connor said.
Gavin stared at him, face blank. "Stop calling me Gavin," he said. The ambulance started moving. "What happened to him?"
Connor sat beside the little detective, watching him. "To Zlatko?"
Gavin attempted to nod but he winced in pain. "Tried snatching the gun to shoot the asshole but he shot me first," he explained.
"I did shoot him on his leg," Connor offered and Gavin seemed pleased with that.
"Good. What about the uh . . . androids?"
Connor examined his face. The little detective looked sad and also guilty. "Androids?"
"Yeah, the androids he had on the basement," Gavin answered. He was avoiding looking Connor in the eye.
"I'm not sure, Gavin. Why?" Connor asked.
Gavin was contemplating—stretching his right hand. "They were altered by Zlatko. To an extreme. I don't know, they looked—awful."
"I know you hate androids, Gavin but I—"
Gavin cut him off. "It's not about that, fucker." His voice was still weak and the sharpness of his words was dulled. "I was just wondering if they could be restored to their right form."
Curious. Something about him changed ever so slightly. Connor heard the vulnerability in his little detective's voice. His?
"I'm sure Cyberlife can do something about it. Maybe Elijah could," he said, trying to ignore his previous thought.
"Okay," Gavin said, closing his eyes. "I'll try asking Eli."
"So," Connor started. Gavin waited for it. "Emma, huh?" Connor added. He tried to lighten up the mood. When he was still in Hank's car, Connor heard everything about their exchange.
Gavin cracked one eye open and raised his brow. "What?"
"Nothing. I just thought . . ." Connor trailed off. The ambulance bounced a little from a bump. They were at Detroit Medical Center. The responder was radioing the hospital.
"Thought what? That I'd be interested in a total stranger? Fuck, no," Gavin quickly defended. "I only did that for the investigation."
"She was calling after you when we left," Connor said.
Gavin closed his eyes again. "Don't care," he muttered. "You jealous?" he teased, smirking and laughing to himself.
Connor was about to joke back when the door of the ambulance opened. They were finally ready for transport.
"You gotta stop pacing around, Connor," Hank said as he watched Connor.
He was indeed pacing. It's been an hour since Gavin went to surgery and Connor had been an absolute nervous wreck.
It wasn't like him to be like this. He knew that Gavin would survive, but he had a nagging feeling in him. He was worried and still partly guilty. Emotions were overwhelming.
He remembered the day after the Detroit revolution. He was a mess and Hank took the brunt of it. Connor let himself cry and feel sadness all day.
"I can't help it, Lieutenant," he said, still pacing in front of Hank.
"He'll be fine, you're making me dizzy."
Connor sighed and forced himself to sit down. "Okay, I'm sorry."
Hank stared at him. "What's this about?" he asked.
Connor adjusted his jacket, straightening it. "What is?"
Hank gestured in front of him. "This thing with Gavin?" he asked, intrigued.
Connor raised his brow. "What do you mean, Hank?" He pulled on the cuffs of his sleeves.
"What's with the sudden closeness?"
A moment passed. Sudden closeness? "He's my partner in this investigation," Connor explained simply. "Of course I'm worried."
"Uh huh."
Connor stared back at Hank. "What answer do you want to hear then?" he asked, a slip of frustration in his voice.
"I don't know? Maybe the truth?" Hank said. He extended his arm and let it rest on Connor's shoulder. "We talked about this before. You're still not an expert in emotions like this old dog, Connor. Let me help."
He couldn't help but frown. "I don't know, Hank. I'm just worried about Gavin. I did force him to do the undercover alone," he said.
"And he did it, end of the story. I know Gavin. He would probably boast about it. Give it a week. Cocky bastard," he said. "Don't get too hung up on it. That's what we face in our line of duty."
People passed by them. There was an announcement on the speakers that Connor didn't hear at all. He took another deep breath and let his software scan the corridor. He would do that whenever he felt overwhelmed.
"You're right, Hank. I just . . . I'll be honest. I think I'm starting to like Gavin even though he's being difficult with me."
He did. He enjoyed talking to the little detective. It was a challenge. And wherever there's a challenge, there's a reward. And now, knowing a bit more about Gavin's background, Connor couldn't avoid feeling closer to him or at least finally really knowing him.
Gavin's quips. His insults. His panic attack. When he looked at Connor and only see him and nothing else. When Gavin kissed him. Gavin passed out, blood pooling under him. They were at the forefront of Connor's memories.
Hank watched him with an understanding expression. "That kid is annoying at times. But I see what you mean. So what now?" he asked.
Connor shrugged. "I don't know."
Hank scratched his head. "What do you feel about him? What kind of emotion?"
Connor evaluated his feelings with the past instances with Gavin Reed.
He felt victorious when the little detective replied to his message before. Anger rose in his chest when Gavin pushed him in the break room. He felt worry when he was having his panic attack.
The kiss, it was different. It was a new feeling that Connor was unsure of. There was disbelief, for sure, but he also felt excitement. That Gavin Reed was kissing him. But Hank didn't need to know that just yet.
"A lot, Hank. I do feel happy around him now, unlike before. Or how I would have, before I deviated."
Hank nodded but there was skepticism on his face. "Alright. It's weird hearing it since it's Gavin, but sure."
"I just want him to be safe," he added.
Hank's stare lingered on Connor but he remained silent. He patted Connor's back and ruffled his hair. "He'll be fine. Tell you what, let's go home for tonight and we'll visit first thing in the morning. Maybe Sumo can cheer you up," he said.
Connor didn't want to leave Gavin alone but he nodded. A change of clothes would be nice. With that, he suddenly remembered that Gavin was wearing his clothes.
Every thought led back to Gavin, after all.
Gavin Reed stared at Connor, piercing daggers in his eyes.
Hank loomed before the two of them. He leaned against the frame of the door, just watching them.
"I'm . . . sorry, Gavin," Connor said.
Gavin didn't talk. He just stared at Connor beside him. He looked groggy and tired but overall fine. He was awake already when Connor and Hank arrived.
What else should Connor say to get the little detective to respond to him? "Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked.
That made Gavin's eye twitch. "Sure," he said weakly.
"Stay here, Connor. I'll get one for me as well," Hank said and left them to their own devices.
When the door clicked shut, silence filled the room. Gavin dragged a steady stare at Connor once again.
"Do you have something to say to me, Gavin?" Connor asked, trying to fish for a clue.
"I don't know. Do I need to say something?" he countered.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I tried my best to be as quick as I—"
"Shut up, tin can," Gavin cut him off, scoffing. "It's not about that."
"Then, what is it, Gavin? What's making you angry at me?" he asked, frustration welling in his voice.
A beat passed. Gavin gestured to Connor. "Come here," he said.
He couldn't avoid feeling suspicious, but Connor leaned closer to him. Gavin flicked his forehead with his uninjured arm.
"Ouch," Connor flinched, covering the sore skin.
"That hurt you?" Gavin asked, eyes hard.
"Yes?"
"Hmmm. Good," he said. "Imagine that pain but a thousand percent. That's what I feel with my arm right now, asshole."
"Right. Again, I'm sorry."
"Whatever. Why are you here anyway?" Gavin asked. He attempted to cross his arms but stopped halfway, visibly in pain.
"To visit you? You're my partner, Gavin. In this investigation, at least." Connor tried smiling but ended up looking goofy, as Hank would have said.
He was met by a skeptical look. "The case is over. So, why are you here?" Gavin asked again. It felt like he was searching for an answer—an answer to his own question. A confirmation that would come from Connor.
Connor thought about it and remembered his conversation with Hank last night. "Because I'm worried about you," he finally answered.
"Two gunshot wounds? Really?" he asked, sounding doubtful.
"Yes? You're still shot. And you're in pain because of me," Connor answered. "I feel guilty sending you alone for the mission."
Gavin let out a sigh. "Well, at least you didn't let me die. So stop being a fucking crybaby about it. What's done is done."
His tone was stony and final. Connor nodded. Silence filled the room again. He needed to talk about something.
A thought struck his mind. Would he and Gavin go back to what they were before? Gavin hating him for being an android and Connor just letting everything happen without control on it?
"Can I see?" Connor blurted out. He didn't plan for it, but his system decided to say it. It's the unpredictability feature.
"The wounds?" Gavin asked, eyes still trained on him. His stubble was growing long, Connor noticed.
When Connor nodded, the little detective had thought of it for a second before surrendering. He pushed up his gown sleeve ever so slightly, avoiding to scrape it on the wound.
"I got lucky neither of them pierced through me. That would've been a bitch to heal," Gavin said. He was also examining the sutures on his arm.
"Where's the other one?" Connor asked out of curiosity. "It's under your clavicle, right?"
"I think," Gavin answered. The sharpness in his voice finally gone. Connor felt a little relief.
"Let me see?" he asked, smiling cheekily at Gavin—the latter looked at him like he was some sort of creep.
"Fine. It's your fault if you miss it." Gavin pulled the collar of his gown. "Do you see it?" he asked.
Connor took a peek and there it was, a closed wound with multiple stitches. "Never seen one in person. It's kinda cool," he admitted. The bruising seemed painful but somehow, it also looked beautiful on Gavin's skin.
What a morbid observation, Connor.
"Yeah, but it doesn't feel cool," Gavin bit back.
Gavin wasn't really wearing anything for decency. Connor realized it when he accidentally lowered his gaze. His gaze quickly scrambled back to the wound.
A scoff escaped Gavin's lips. "You done ogling, pervert?" he asked in disbelief.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to," Connor apologized as he met Gavin eye to eye.
Maybe it was their tired stupid brains but they both had just realized how close their faces were.
Gavin was staring at him. He subconsciously let go of his collar and it clung to his neck again. It was difficult not to notice his bare skin.
Unsure when it happened, Connor had his hand on Gavin's back. The little detective's breathing got erratic. Doing a simple analysis, he found Gavin's heartbeat elevated. He wasn't aware that his own pump was doing the same.
"What are you . . ." Gavin's voice died down. There was a hint of fear in his eyes but it was drowned out by the longing Connor had already seen before.
The thoughts slowly died down in his mind. All he felt was that similar feeling he had on that night in the motel.
His hand burned on Gavin's back. His eyes landed on those very same lips that claimed his.
The hand on Gavin's back slowly made its way towards his neck. Before one of them realized it, Connor was pushing Gavin closer to him—the latter let him in taut anticipation.
When their lips touched, they both flinched—burned by the sudden contact.
Connor felt that same thrilling emotion. Eyes searching each other, Connor couldn't help but close their distance and lock Gavin's lips with his.
Every synapse and feeling was numb yet tingly at the same time.
Gavin Reed. Gavin Reed. Gavin Reed. His software went haywire.
He felt Gavin's lips perfectly matching his own. Gavin made a sound and started moving his chin. Connor felt his eyes close and let the intrigue, pleasure, and joy flood his system.
My little detective.
Gavin gently held onto Connor's arm and led the kiss. He was so good at this.
Connor felt his system short-circuiting. His pump was pacing too fast. Connor could only think of Gavin, and how he wanted this moment to last forever.
When Gavin let out a long string of sound, something jumped in Connor's system. His grip on his little detective tightened.
The pressure was too great to notice the door slowly opening.
"What the fuck?!"
Connor and Gavin instantly jumped away from each other, catching their breath.
Hank looked between them with his eyes wide and jaw agape. Cups of coffee rested in his hands.
Well, now he knew about the kiss.