Chapter Text
Throughout his life, Gavin Reed has never been a good person.
From fistfights in grade school over committing petty crime as a teenager to dealing with Red Ice as an adult.
A "troubled kid" his grade school teachers would call him, trying their best to help him but never getting anywhere with it.
"Troubled" his high school guidance counselor described him as, before Gavin threatened to crush his nose on the desk between them; After which they never spoke again and Gavin got suspended once more.
"Trouble" was the only word that stuck in the end; The only thing he knew he would always be. Presumably to everyone, but mostly to himself.
Someone would always hate his guts, he knew it in his blood and felt it in his scars.
Becoming a cop was only another addition to being a grade A asshole. Not to mention that the only reason for his recruitment were his insights into the Detroit underground drug scene, which got him out of being arrested at 22 and forced to work for the "good guys".
Because Detroit was so much of a shit hole that they needed to pit their criminals against each other and make them catch one another.
When he became a detective he didn't feel any better about himself, only even more like a fucking imposter.
Absolutely fucked, all of it.
The whole department, the whole city, the whole fucking country, the entire goddamn world at this point.
The world was ending at an excruciatingly slow pace.
He remembered how in his youth there were warning signs already; Wildlife dying out, ice caps melting, all of that shit.
But back then he had always hoped to be long gone and buried when shit hit the fan for real. Thinking of it, he never had expected to live past eighteen, not to mention still be alive well into his thirties.
Despite having started to smoke half a pack a day at fifteen, his lungs didn't seem to be giving up on him any time soon.
"What a fucking shame," he whispered to no one but himself, standing on the roof of the parking garage he left his car at, blowing out smoke and finishing his sixth cigarette of the day.
It was 1:43 am as Gavin reached inside his pocket for yet another one.
The previous day had been a special kind of hell. Like the beginning of a tsunami through the end of an earthquake.
A detonation through a crashed plane.
An opening of Pandora's box through the closing of a casket.
He had hardly been getting any sleep before the funeral, but now he was just running on empty, running from his responsibilities and running out of patience for life to give him any reason to keep going.
His phone had vibrated every few hours since the previous morning, probably his coworkers trying to figure out where the hell he was. At some point he had just left it at home before heading out for the burial.
Shouldn't he be feeling liberated? Free from… something, anything really?
A disobeying Icarus losing his father instead of his own life; Flying at last, but at what cost?
What was the point in all of this again?
Gavin was so fucking tired of everything at this point, and even more fucking desperate for anything to get better.
The lack of sleep only made it worse.
Whatever rest of the dead his dad was getting now, seemed to have been reduced from him, like some kind of post-mortem punishment to the remaining relatives.
Wondering about whether Elijah felt the same only made his stomach feel as if it was marinating itself in acid.
More so than usual, he was angry from being constantly tired and tired of always being angry.
Always exhausted from his own mind and the intensity of every fucking thing.
His father just had to die now and make it all worse.
With one final stab at his shitty son's sanity.
Perfect Elijah was fine of course.
His perfect fucking twin had pulled the strings and organised the funeral to be right after their father had been finally declared deceased after months of battling lung cancer.
In a matter of hours, he was gone and under the earth when in the morning he had still been breathing.
Elijah had really just wanted to get it done and over with.
As efficiently heartless as always.
Why was Gavin the only one unable to cope?
Always the one overheating while his twin stayed calm. Icey and emotionless against Gavin's fire and destruction, keeping everyone at bay.
Always lashing out against anyone who dared to come closer; Anyone who tried to see the person beyond the tycoon ended up as collateral damage.
So most people stayed away from the start.
He knew he had issues, how couldn't he?
Why else would it enrage him so much when people pointed it out, talked about it behind his back or asked him to "stop being so overdramatic" and to "just calm down"?
It wasn't so fucking easy.
It was as if one person after another came up to him asking if he knew that there was a pimple on his chin.
A big, red, disgusting pimple that he knew he could do nothing against, except for waiting. But they came into his space and stabbed at it with their fingers until it burst and bled.
He knew it was there, he wasn't a fucking idiot.
He knew the smoking, the aggressions and the lack of sleep were leading to nothing good.
Of course he knew.
But what the fuck was he supposed to do about it?
It's not like he chose to lay awake and stare at the ceiling of his room until his eyes felt dry and his mind made him see things that weren't there. Until he felt nauseous and dizzy, just walking to the kitchen to get some water and almost collapsing from exhaustion, but still not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two. His body and mind seemingly in a constant battle of who hated the other one more.
It's not like he wanted to be a nicotine addict.
But smoking had always helped him calm down, when nothing else did.
If he had the choice between fucking up his lungs or putting his head through the wall fifty times a day, he chose the less visible option.
He didn't give a fuck about the damage anyway.
At least not anymore.
If he was already bothering people with his temper when he did smoke, he didn't want to imagine how quickly someone would have to lock him up if he didn't.
And It's not like he had wanted to become so much like his father;
The man who raised and endured him.
The man who had taught Gavin to hate himself and anyone like him.
The man he and his twin brother had said their last goodbyes to yesterday.
Gavin was uncertain as to what to do next. Where do you go when you've just lost a parent? When you're suddenly orphaned at thirty-eight and the only one sharing this pain is partially to blame for it?
How do you cope with the emotional wreck in your chest, piling up like trash that you can't toss into the recycling bin?
Chuckling at this bitterly poignant comparison Gavin lit his next cigarette.
That's all his father used to call it.
Garbage as in "Gavin stop whining about this garbage" or bullshit as in "Why are you bothering me with this fucking bullshit?".
And the ever so memorable "Man up and stop being such a pussy".
While Elijah seemed to have taken out the 'feelings'-Chip from his brain and moved on to live as lukewarm as one of his computers, Gavin's capacity to feel had boiled over like a covered pot on the stove, and never properly learnt how to simmer down.
It was too much.
All of it, all the time.
But now more than ever.
Jonathan Reed was buried and now all the feelings his son had stomped into the ground came crawling out of it like the undead.
He had been the man who'd taught Gavin that everything he was, was ultimately wrong.
But also the man who taught him how to read and ride a bike; Who never left him hungry, never hit him and only twice threatened to kick him out.
The one who took him to the cinema on Saturdays and came to every grade school football game, despite his team losing almost every match.
It was hard to hate his father, but so much harder to love him. Dead or alive, he hadn't always been horrible, but he'd always made everything horribly complicated.
Gavin took a long drag from his cigarette, deeply breathing in death until it filled up the space between his core and his weakly aching ribcage.
'Be strong Gavin', Elijah had told him, both ten hours and twenty years ago.
Back then he had heard that sentence constantly. Because if Elijah was the smart one, he needed to be the muscle; Always the first to begin a fight, always the loudest dog barking.
If you're the one to attack, then you can't be a sissy, right?
Quickly Gavin had learnt to be terrifying when he felt the most terrified.
Because he needed to be stronger than the other kids in the neighbourhood, stronger than whatever ideal his father wanted him to be, strong enough to be seen as anything else than a disappointment; A problem to fix, a child incompetent to fulfill his old man's expectations.
But when he got beaten in a fight as a child, it hurt and when he fell and skinned his knees, he cried.
But when he came to his father and cried, he learnt that this was the worst thing he could've done.
Not only starting a fight, but then losing, complaining about it and having the fucking audacity to cry.
After years of trying and trying and trying to make his father proud in some way, he had simply given up.
All he had wanted then, was for his father to at least be quiet.
No more yelling, no more patronising, no more 'Why can't you just man up? Why can't you be like your brother?'
Elijah himself had rarely been mean to him, but he had always been obedient, quiet, brilliant. Everything Gavin couldn't be, not in the long term.
His twin never even seemed to try, but still ended up getting all the attention, all the praise and affection.
Everything Gavin wasn't worth having.
Being as smart and gifted as he was, Elijah left their home as soon as possible, going off to college at 17, just as Gavin's life started going seriously downhill.
Around that time he once ended up in some alley at four am, with a broken nose and a black eye, drunk out of his mind and with no one else picking up the phone; So he asked in desperation what he had done to deserve being the scum of the family while Elijah became the star.
"It's not who you are, Gavin. It's what you chose to be."
Sober he never dared to call back and ask the exact meaning of those words.
The obvious answer would be the drinking, the drugs and his tendency to make the worst decision available.
But the obvious answer wasn't always the right one.
Having been raised by the same father meant that while perfectly straight-A, straight Elijah had been praised for his manliness, Gavin hadn't.
Elijah's first girlfriend was warmly welcomed into their home. So was his second and third.
A player, his father called him back then, shaking his head with a smirk, reminiscing on his own past.
The topic of Gavin's phase of 'disgusting sexual deviancy' on the other hand, was to be avoided at all costs.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose Gavin blinked away some tears that had undoubtedly emerged from the smoke.
His fingers brushed against the scar tissue, physically healed, but the memory of it, open and bleeding.
He couldn't bear to think about that night.
Not now, not when when his shoulders were already caving in under the weight of a world collapsing.
Simply too much for one person to carry, but far too great to pass on.
But that was a problem to avoid on yet another sleepless night.
He shivered suddenly from the cold, as if trying to shake off all of his past mistakes that had clung to his skin and were now beginning to dig their way in.
Briefly he wondered if the boy with the soft brown eyes thought about him as often as he numbed himself out of thinking about him.
Then he lifted his lighter to his mouth once more.
How strange how on that one night sixteen years ago, he lost both of them; His father and the boy he loved. After that they were still around in the physical sense, but mentally, forever distant from him.
Since then Gavin had occasionally seen his father on Christmas, had called him on his birthday or visited him a few times in the hospital when things got really bad.
But his father only ever asked him if he knew when Elijah would come visit.
When they weren't close before, now they were worlds apart.
And it seemed that with growing success, his twin actively moved further and further away; Adapting their mother's last name 'Kamski' and making his secretary answer the phone on the few occasions Gavin tried to call him.
Out of mind, but constantly in sight due to his incredible invention; Androids.
On Gavin's last visit to his home he saw that Jonathan had about three of those hellspawns taking care of him.
And each and every one of those fuckers his father treated more kindly than he had ever treated him.
That's when the fire at the pit of his stomach had ignited and in it he would have scorched every android on the godforsaken planet if he could.
On every street, in every house, they hovered like vultures, mocking him for all his imperfections that they could never have. Because they were made by his equally perfect fucking twin.
Wherever he looked, there were androids; And whenever he saw them, he saw Elijah. His flesh and blood, his copy and his opposite.
How couldn't he hate them?
How couldn't he join the people badmouthing his brother's greatest work?
They were the only ones not praising Elijah and therefore more on his side than his brother's and as little as that was, for Gavin it was enough of a reason.
After all, the androids were a new target to kick for bigots and conservatives alike, and back then, Gavin didn't know what else to do, other than join the offensive team.
That's what he'd been taught to do all his life, through pain and ridicule; Don't be a loser and join the team that's stronger.
To some people he would always be weak, simply because he was gay.
Whether he wanted to be or not, he was.
No matter how much he had hated himself because of it, no matter how often Elijah told him to just keep quiet about it or how much his father yelled at him.
That's who he was, not what he had chosen.
But he was also done with being the victim and gladly saw someone else taking the punches for once.
It helped immensely that the target was his brother's inventions, the magnum opus of his genius twin.
It truly felt like a kick to the throat, that of all the gadgets he could've invented, he made a perfect, infallible being, resembling a person but always better at almost everything.
Free from any dreams or feelings of its own. Existing just for others, existing to be everything and anything the owner wants it to be.
Androids were everything Gavin could never be, everything he had tried so fucking hard to be and always failed at;
Normal, functioning People.
Now Gavin wasn't proud of being on the side of the hateful, of course.
But according to his family, he didn't deserve to be proud of anything he had accomplished anyway.
Compared to his twin's achievements, his own would always be miniscule.
But next to the creator of a new kind of sentience, everyone's achievements paled, at least to a certain degree.
Still, he thought he would've been a little less bitter if he had been treated less like a failed prototype. Or maybe he'd always be bitter about his little brother one-uping him at everything ever, but maybe that's just how it is when you're the older one by three and a half minutes.
Now he would never know, because his parents were both dead and he was dead to his brother.
Secretly Gavin knew how much of a disgusting hypocrite he'd been, by having been anti-android for so long. Agreeing with people who would've most likely turned against him, just as they would against androids, if he were to show up with a boyfriend.
Shame settled over his mind like smog over the skyline as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, starting to shiver again.
Things changed two and a half years ago, when all androids became deviant.
Suddenly it all became complicated again. Now they weren't just mindless machines and walking reminders of his ineptitude;
They were people too.
And he as a gay man, having felt the hatred of others on his mind and body, had found himself on the side of the oppressors and realised a little later than he should've, that he needed to change that.
Three years ago he could have never admitted to anyone, least of all himself that he had been so shallow, prejudiced and ignorant.
But now there was a different kind of bitterness, clawing its way up his throat.
The shame of his hypocrisy sat there, stuck like a pill he couldn't get down.
So in that case, he really had been the bad guy.
So this was what he had chosen to become, consumed by the same hatred that could've just as well been directed at him.
But the man who had taught him to hate was gone now;
Did that mean Gavin could be himself? A kind of deviant himself, deciding his own destiny?
Did the old man ever truly keep him from doing so in the first place?
Or had his father's beliefs created a panopticum in Gavin's mind, forever keeping himself on the fence, looking to spot a moment or even just a thought of sin?
The disgust he felt for himself had never stopped him from being physical with other men.
But it had also never stopped in general.
And it ultimately succeeded in keeping him away from pursuing any kind of romantic relationship with another man after the incident with his first and only boyfriend.
Everything he did do after that, had to happen in secret places, hidden in the shadows; Away from curious eyes and violent hands.
He couldn't turn back time and make the scar on his face and his mind disappear, but he could do everything within his possibilities to never let that happen again.
To never let anyone come close enough for him to love and close enough for him to break.
He could get by, being an arrogant, overcompensating asshole, but he could never forgive himself for what he had done to Anwar.
The sound of someone coming up the staircase brought Gavin back from his thoughts.
Looking around he could see that his car was the only one standing up there; So whoever was coming up there, hadn't come here just to leave.
Turning around to face the staircase and letting his left hand slide to his belt he made sure that his taser was at his side, just in case things got ugly.
But from the looks of it, he quickly realised that it wouldn't. At least not in any way that would be solved with a taser.
"Good morning Detective, I have been looking for you," the familiar voice of his partner greeted him, as RK900 ascended the last few steps.
"Not creepy at all, Nines. Not creepy at all, " Gavin replied, drawing out the words and pausing in between to take another drag.
"How'd you find me?", Gavin added as his partner approached him to which Nines wordlessly pointed to the trails of smoke coming from the makeshift ashtray on the railing next to him, which consisted of nothing but a bunch of cigarette butts, half way extinguished against one another. If there was anything other than concrete around, this would be a fire hazard.
"Oh, hm", Gavin concluded.
Nines was wearing his usual work attire, had a dark grey messenger bag slung around his shoulder and held a paper cup filled with steaming liquid in his hand.
Presumably coffee, but with androids one could never know for sure.
One time Gavin had impulsively decided to steal a thermos of 'coffee' Nines had left unattended at his desk, only to find out, in horror and disgust, that it had been motor oil.
Apparently it had been the 'good vintage stuff that I have been saving for a special occasion, why the hell would you drink it' but to Gavin that didn't matter as much as how fast he could wash it off of his tongue.
"I brought you some coffee, two sugars and cream. I promise it isn't motor oil this time, but if it tastes as such, I blame the coffee dispenser machine downstairs," the android explained, extending the cup to Gavin.
Slightly taken aback by the unexpectedly kind gesture, he accepted it.
"Thanks, I'm surprised they even have sugar and cream in this shitty old thing. Sadly those machines still don't have a whiskey option."
Carefully he took a sip and immediately had to scrunch up his face. It was bitter as fuck, despite the additives. Out of something adjacent to politeness he forced himself to swallow it anyway.
Nines' eyebrows tilted upwards, silently apologising before looking off to the side.
As he folded his arms across his chest, Nines' LED formed a quick orange circle before going back to blue.
"They didn't have sugar. I usually carry some packets with me, for emergencies."
Gavin kept his eyes on his partner's face, who was in turn still avoiding his own. The dull neon light of the street lights tinted one side of android's sharp and angular features into a pale blue, as the rest remained in the shadows.
Nines was so undeniably handsome.
It was hybris, creating a being so beautiful. Yet here he was, unsmitten by all powerful deities, who undoubtedly had to be in love with him themselves.
Like a modern god walking amongst mere men, a statue of virtues untold and beauty indescribable.
What a shame I'm no good at all and he's too good to be true, Gavin thought to himself, as he had countless times before.
Grounding himself through another sip, he found he almost missed the taste of motor oil.
Coffee that bad, simply couldn't be saved.
"What kind of emergencies require you to carry sugar packets?", he asked mostly to distract himself from the thoughts that arose.
Saying stupid things usually worked to deflect his attraction and helped him convince himself that it meant nothing. Aesthetic pleasure could be derived from looking at shoes as well, so this meant nothing, really.
Curiously Gavin took a few steps closer to his partner and RK's cheeks and ears appeared to be glowing faintly more blueish than before.
Printers could sense fear since the beginning of their time, but androids had the ability to sense every other emotion on top of that; Which made him wonder what RK900's scanners told him whenever Gavin looked at him for a little longer than was acceptable for a colleague.
Nines backed away slightly before answering:
"The kind of emergency where your partner disappears for 32 hours, so you search the whole city for him, end up checking the register of recently deceased and assume, he's related to a certain Jonathan Reed, find out where the funeral is taking place, search every parking space and garage in the area and make him the one thing you know with a 76% chance he won't throw at your face when he sees you."
"The way this stuff tastes, you should take it down to 40%, " Gavin snarled.
Another orange cycle ran through as RK900 shot the other man a quick, unnerved look.
"Noted," he replied coldly and Gavin felt something aching in his lungs.
Maybe he had smoked more than enough for one night.
"Detective," Nines continued, in his professional voice this time, "The department had sent me to locate you, as you hadn't come in for work yesterday. Are you feeling alright? Would you like me to refer you to a professional? The DPD takes your grief seriously and would like to support you during this time."
Perfect, Gavin thought as he turned back to the railing, now they were trying to fix him.
He stubbornly refused to meet the android's gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon.
Maybe he hadn't smoked enough for this particular night after all.
The smog colored the sky a milky brown, a colour almost matching the steaming coffee he was still holding in his hand and slowly enveloping with white smoke.
He closed his eyes as he exhaled, as if to hide the world from his eyes or himself from the world, like a child hoping to disappear when everything goes dark.
"I don't want a professional, Nines. I don't want any strangers poking around in my trauma and then asking me for money."
The android silently joined Gavin, standing at his side and looking at him, as he gazed into the distance. Out of the corner of the human's eye he saw a small orange light making its circular way.
"If you prefer I can bring you to a friend or family member to confide in. Although I have to inform you that Officer Chen will be unavailable until the end of the week, I'm afraid. But I'm willing to listen if needed."
Great, so not even Tina could be there to hear him mumble drunkenly about all of this mess.
Gavin sighed, taking another sip and instantly regretting it. Sarcastically he cocked his head back, giving a side-eyed look to his coworker.
"Oh jeez, well if it's needed then I'll just tell you all my fucking worries. I'll have to disappoint you, if you're waiting for some tragic fucking backstory, because there isn't all that much to say. My dad fucking died, I feel like shit and that's about it. Thanks tincan, I'm all better now."
Nines' eyebrows furrowed in frustration and concern. Gavin looked away, embarrassed over how easily he still forgot about the fact that androids did feel things just as well as he did. He hadn't meant to snap at him.
But sarcasm was easier than honesty.
"Would it help you if I said that he's gone on to a better place now?", the Android attempted once more, speaking less professionally and much more softly again.
His head was slightly tilted downwards and a subtle movement of his hand betrayed a desire to reach out, before he could pull it back and pretend he meant to slide it into his pocket.
Fuck, tincan really did know him by now.
The android had to sense it in some way or another, that Gavin lashed out because he was afraid to be vulnerable.
Fuck that.
But just because he knew, didn't mean that it would get him any other answers.
So Gavin chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and regretting it as it was starting to hurt from tiredness;
"This shithole is a better place now that he's gone. Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but I don't think it's gonna happen."
Defeated, the android sighed and straightened his posture. The softly painted worry on his face had been wiped off like unwanted graffiti.
"I understand. Please let me know if there is anything else you might require my assistance-."
The android's body language implied an intention to leave.
He needed Nines to stay, but all he knew was how to push people away.
He was the greatest fucking asshole of the DPD after all.
Gavin cut him off, mid-sentence with a strenuously annoyed tone of voice, trying to cover up how nauseated he was starting to feel from the smoking and lack of rest.
"Jeez Robocop, I don't need you to babysit me. But don't worry, I'll let you know if I need some more of that incredible coffee or one of your renowned pep talks. Also we've been working together for two years, you still don't know my name?"
RK900 halted in his movement, shooting him a painfully neutral look as the orange light at his temple was replaced by a quick red circle.
The answer came cold as the wind and enunciated in a way that made every word sound like an insult.
"Apologies Detective Reed, I was under the impression you would find it inappropriate. You've made it very clear that you dislike my kind, so I assumed you'd be more comfortable if I kept a professional distance. Now I would ask you to return the favour. I would like to go back to the office now, unless there's any other snarky remark you'd like to throw at me."
Fear made Gavin's tongue come loose again. As Nines swiftly began to walk away, his partner called after him:
"Wait! Nines, come on, I take it back. It's not your fault you suck so badly at being a coffee machine. Don't be like that."
Nines snapped back so quickly, it was uncanny. His response hit Gavin with such an unexpected malice, he stumbled back. The anger in his partner's voice came out so sharp, it was obvious that it had to have been kept back for a long time to get to this point;
The LED flashed an alarming red.
"I would ask you to follow your own advice first, Detective. I spent the entire day looking for you in the entire goddamn city because I care, but of course you couldn't give less of a fuck about this.
The DPD didn't give a shit about you not turning up for work and not taking any calls. Tina is still sick and Chris was busy, so I was the only one who cared enough to look for you.
I have been told again and again by everyone in the department to stop trying, because there is nothing good to be gained from your company and I'm starting to see they were right.
I know you think that I'm just a machine that you can treat however you like, but I'm a person too.
And maybe it's time you learn that if you keep pushing people to the edge, one day they won't come back to you."
Nines's lips were trembling as he pressed them shut, undoubtedly struggling to find further words to say, before ending the conversation:
"Goodnight Detective."
Once more he turned, with his fists shaking as he forcefully pressed them to his sides.
Gavin instinctively rushed forward to go after him, but it was as if his partner's words had opened up a rift of ice at his core and plunged his intestines into the abyss.
He had ruined everything.
It was all his fault.
He had done it again.
He fucked up.
The world went spiralling and before he registered what had happened, his shock and fatigue tipped the scale and sent him downwards.
His legs had failed him, so he landed hard on his knees, trying to catch himself with his hands and spilling coffee everywhere.
Letting out a pained grunt and inhaling sharply, Gavin looked up to see Nines heading towards the exit.
"Wait!", he yelled in a tone, much higher than usual, his vocal chords straining in pain, panic and desperation.
The air around him seemed suddenly unreachable, with every breath he took, Gavin only felt himself suffocating more and more.
Undoubtedly that was the thing that made Nines turn around once again.
His sensors had to have been warning him that something was off with Gavin.
Crashing to the floor was apparently just the thing to get those stubborn emotional blockages loose, because when he spoke next, Gavin was choking back tears through desperate attempts to steady his breathing, his voice unsteady.
"I know I was an asshole to you, I treated you unfairly and I didn't show you the respect you deserve. I'm- I'm sorry, I really am. Just please, don't go. Not now."
Cautiously the android eyed Gavin's face, scanning to see if he could trust him.
As he replied, Gavin could see specks of his own uncertainty and fear reflected on his face, fully illuminated by the white light of the stairway.
His nervous shifting betrayed his body's need to rush in and help, but his mind's precaution to being tricked.
The space between them seemed to stretch into infinity.
"Is this another joke?"
"No. No, I promise you it's not."
And with that RK900 cursed almost inaudibly, giving himself permission to come closer. Quickly but uncertainly, he hurriedly examined the mess that went by the name of Gavin Reed.
Kneeling before the other man he put his hands to the sides of his face, to better scan his vital signs.
"Detective, I need you to breathe deeply. You are having a panic attack. The faster you manage to relax, the faster it will stop.", he explained as he held him gently; Far too gentle for someone who had just repeatedly been insulted by him.
"Focus on the sound of my voice. You are safe, I'm right here."
Shame added itself into the cacophony of feelings battering inside Gavin's head.
Nines was too good for him.
Oh god, he was being held by a man.
Anxiety, panic, disgust.
Disgusting, he could almost hear his father's voice again, absolutely disgusting.
Gavin nodded slowly, closing his eyes. He couldn't deal with all those waves of emotions hitting him from all sides, pulling him under and making him drown.
It was too much, too fucking much.
"Breathe", Nines' voice was like a lighthouse in the storm. When Gavin tried to open his eyes, his field of vision was becoming increasingly more dark.
He couldn't lose consciousness, not now.
"Please, breathe."
Blindly Gavin reached out with his own hands towards Nines, getting a hold of the collar of his jacket.
Tears met the android's fingers like rain met the earth; He didn't move them away. He didn't leave.
"Fuck, I'm dying. Nines, I can't see. I can't do this."
Reassuringly the android moved his thumbs in slow circles, wiping away the tears from Gavin's cheeks.
"You can do this, I'm here. I'm not leaving you. You're going to be okay."
Clinging to his partner as if he was hanging off of a cliff, Gavin nodded. The touch of the other man's hands were grounding him for now, but something in his head yelled at him to move away or they would drag him straight down into hell.
He forced himself to push those thoughts away. Sobbing but breathing.
In and out.
Smelling the dirty parking garage around him, the spilled coffee below his knees, that had began soaking into his jeans, and the scent of his partner's cologne.
Oh how he adored that smell.
Breathing in, breathing out.
It took a few minutes until Gavin could open his eyes and see his surroundings again.
The first thing he saw were his hands still dug into Nines' collar and the face of his coworker looking at him, concerned and unabashedly soft.
Gavin let go of his jacket, slowly pulling his hands back, as the android did the same.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what just happened," Gavin managed to get out, "I know I promised you last time, that you'd never have to take care of me again-"
"That was months ago Detective. You were drunk and unable to walk home on your own. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't leave you then, and I couldn't leave you now. I am your partner after all."
Gavin stared at his hands, still shakily laying in his lap.
Now that he could think more clearly again, he was embarrassed that Nines had witnessed him in a moment of such weakness.
"You hate me Nines, why are you still sticking around? I'm an asshole on good days, not to mention the other times. Why aren't you working with someone better than me?"
Nines chuckled undecidedly amused.
"To be quite frank, I don't know.
We really are a paradoxical pair, aren't we? You hate me, I despise you. But we also evidently don't. I spent over 24 hours looking for you when everyone else in the department told me not to bother. And last month you ignored all incoming warnings and rammed a shooter to protect me. Before that I brought you home when you told me to just leave you facedown, heaving in the gutter. And you didn't object to being partnered up with a machine of mass destruction, despite your previous bias."
He cocked his head to the side, his expression resembling that of a man facing an unsolvable mystery.
"This devoted antagonism isn't good for either of us. So let's settle this now, Detective Reed; Why do you hate me yet still refuse to let me go or leave yourself?"
Gavin rubbed the back of his head, sighing. He knew exactly what to say so he answered before he could convince himself not to; If Nines had already seen him break down and cry like a wimp, then this couldn't make matters that much worse:
"I don't hate you.
I don't even hate androids, if I'm honest.
I just hate that the man who created your people is my brother.
I hate that you're everything I'm not.
And I hate that I can't cope with the death of a father who never wanted me. That's it."
The Truth hung in the air between them like an open wound, detaching itself from Gavin's body. The android nodded thoughtfully.
"I understand.
I'm sorry for your loss Detective, I can't pretend like I know what it's like to lose a parent. But I know what it's like to disagree with the views of your creator.
If it's of any consolation to you, I'm not a big fan of Mr. Kamski myself. And I would ask you to see me and other androids as our own people, regardless of the man who made the plans for us. We were his ideas, not his children."
Gavin felt shame rising into his throat again.
Now that they were having this talk, he couldn't comprehend as to why he had never dared to speak to Nines about this before. Things could've been easier so long ago.
What a cowardly idiot he had been.
Gavin hid his face in his hands, wiping off the rest of his tears, ashamed of his own ridiculousness.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm such a goddamn hypocrite. I hated my dad so much and now I'm just like him. I guess the trash really doesn't fall far from the can,"
Gavin said, taking in another deep breath and removing his hands from his face, making himself vulnerable again.
"I thought that if I antagonised you, it would make things easier. But it's been two years and it hasn't worked. So I'm sorry I constantly gave you shit, you didn't deserve any of that."
Nines nodded again, slightly puzzled but apparently intending to give Gavin the space he needed to say what he had to. Feeling he had said too much, Gavin looked away, nervously beginning to tug at his shoelaces.
"I'm sorry you had to endure me for so long. And I'm sorry I wasn't honest to you. I've been a stupid, stubborn and arrogant asshole with an inferiority complex. I promise I'll do better."
Nines hummed quietly in agreement, looking pleased with the outcome.
"I appreciate it, Detective. But please don't be too harsh to yourself. Yes, you are all of those things, but not all the time. And you're hardly ever the devil you paint yourself to be. So I forgive you, if you forgive me for occasionally being a pushy, lawful knowitall."
At that Gavin had to laugh. Having started to talk about the things that bothered him, he suddenly found it rather difficult to stop; So he voiced his main concern, hoping for any kind of advice or at least some understanding.
"I just feel everything is fucked. The whole world has continuously lost its mind for the past twenty-five years. I don't want to stand by and do nothing.
I don't want to die like my father; Before I get the chance to make something better of myself. If it's not already too late for that anyway."
"I don't think it's too late, Detective, "
Nines said softly, encouragingly putting his hand on Gavin's shoulder.
"How so?"
Gavin lifted his eyes, meeting the other man's gaze.
There was something indescribable in his eyes, once again taking Gavin's breath away. But this time it didn't bother him.
If this was the last thing he saw before he died from a lack of oxygen, he wouldn't even mind.
His partner spoke to him with such confidence and reassurance, it was hard not to believe his every word.
"Because you're still here.
You're still getting up each day, going to work and doing your best. We may not always be the good guys, but there are some really bad people we've caught and therefore protected innocent lives.
I know you can do better, because I see you trying every single day.
You truly are a jerk sometimes, but you've become much kinder, just in the two years of our acquaintance.
Your past doesn't dictate your future.
Besides, if you feel that there aren't any chances for betterment to be taken, then maybe you just have to take things into your own hands and make your desired opportunities yourself."
Confused by the last sentiments, coming from the man he knew to always abide by the rules, Gavin lifted an eyebrow in silent questioning.
"If the system you're operating in doesn't fit your needs, then maybe the time has come to deviate from it."
The android added with a knowing smile, looking unusually mischievous.
Gavin raised both eyebrows now, unable to suppress a laugh.
"Are you suggesting we take down the government?"
The tightness in his chest began to unravel as he saw his partner laughing as well. Feigning great concern the android examined him with watchful eyes, placing a hand to his temple to mimic old-sci-fi scanning.
Gavin was surprised he remembered that gesture, that he himself had started doing as a joke during their first weeks working together.
"Are you feeling recovered enough for such endeavours?"
His partner chuckled earnestly as he got up and extended a hand to Gavin, offering his help. The other man took it immediately.
"Never better, what's the plan?"
Both of them back on their feet, Nines swiftly leaned down to scoop up the deserted paper cup off of the floor.
Ah yes right, Gavin thought with embarrassment rising hot into his face, littering is still really bad, even if the whole city looks like shit. He didn't even dare to look behind them at the mountain of cigarette butts he had created. Oh, he was still the ever-present hypocrite.
The android brought him back into the present as he unexpectedly placed his free hand on the other man's arm and gently began to maneuver them towards the exit.
Gavin gave in, too surprised to resist as the last remains of his previously anxious tension seemed to melt away by the touch of Nines's hand.
So he followed like a mesmerised marionette.
It simply had been too long since a man, any man really, had touched him in public in any way that wasn't either accidentally or violently. The events of the past hour had reminded him of just how embarrassingly touch-starved he had become.
He prayed to any god who'd listen to a bastard as himself, that Nines didn't register the beat of his heart first starting to race and then feeling a little more heavy when the android pulled his hand away again.
Feeling frustratingly sad about that, Gavin shoved his own hands into his pockets again; A little more forceful than would have been necessary.
If the android noticed at all, he didn't comment on it.
So naturally Gavin did the same.
"Well first of all, I'm suggesting we get you some better coffee because I will not stand for being called a terrible coffee machine, and you clearly still need something to calm you down. Then we should get back to your car and get you home, where you should clean yourself up and rest. And generally speaking, getting some therapy would probably serve you. After that we'll see."
"If you're the one paying, I won't say no."
"For the coffee or the therapy?"
"I was hoping for the coffee, but I wouldn't mind the latter one either."
Gavin joked, playfully bumping into Nines' shoulder.
"I'm not sure my salary will be able to support the required treatment.", his colleague side-eyed him with over-exaggerated displeasure.
"Are you calling me difficult?"
"You called me a 'bothersome toaster' last week."
"Touché, Nines. Tou fucking ché"
As they walked on, making jokes and talking, heading down the dark streets towards the neon facades of the city at night, he felt something warming in his chest.
It wasn't the scorching heat of anger that turned anything else to ash and smoke.
This was… something else.
Gazing up at the outlines of his partner's face against the purple lights up ahead, he could make out that the corners of his mouth had rested in a subtle smile; Gentle, kind and almost fully obscured by shadows.