Chapter Text
Everything was a blur.
People moved in all directions, a chaotic dance of urgency and purpose. Officers were marching suspects out in cuffs, medics were tending to the injured, and Hank—predictably—was causing more injuries than he was helping.
Everyone had something to do. Everyone was moving.
Everyone except Gavin.
He sat frozen in place, cradling Nines’s lifeless body against his chest.
Well… not entirely frozen. He was moving, just not in any way that mattered. He was trembling, his hands spasming as they clutched the android’s shoulders. His body rocked back and forth uncontrollably, his breath coming in short, choked gasps like the very concept of oxygen had been stripped from existence.
Tears streamed down his face, but he barely registered the wetness. The world around him felt distant, muted, like he was watching someone else’s tragedy unfold.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
Because if it was…
Gavin’s throat clenched as he looked down at Nines, his partner, his… everything. The android’s face was still and expressionless, his LED dark, his synthetic skin eerily pale. A pool of thirium had formed beneath them, staining the floor and soaking into Gavin’s pants.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Nines was indestructible. He always had been. The android had survived beatings, gunfire, car accidents, and even falls from rooftops. He’d been through hell and walked out the other side without so much as a scratch. This couldn’t be any different. It shouldn’t be any different.
But it was.
And Gavin didn’t know what to do.
His chest heaved, each breath a struggle as his mind spiraled. He couldn’t think, couldn’t process. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of memories and regrets, of all the things he’d said and all the things he hadn’t.
Why didn’t I say it?
The words burned in his throat, threatening to choke him. He’d had the chance—so many chances—to tell Nines how he felt. On the balcony, in the quiet moments during movie nights, even earlier tonight.
But he hadn’t.
And now it was too late.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his despair.
Minutes passed. Or maybe it was hours. Time had lost all meaning. Gavin couldn’t tell if his knees ached from the hard floor or if the pain was just another part of the hollow ache consuming him.
The only thing that brought him back to the present was a soft hand on his shoulder.
He didn’t need to look to know who it was.
Connor knelt beside him, his movements mechanical, his touch light. Gavin’s breath hitched as he realized how selfish he was being.
This was Connor’s brother, and yet Gavin hadn’t let anyone else get close. He’d clung to Nines like a lifeline, like giving him up would somehow make it all real.
“I-I’m sorry,” Gavin croaked, his voice barely audible.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Connor nod. The android’s expression didn’t change, but there was an understanding in his silence that twisted the knife in Gavin’s chest even further.
Gavin’s gaze dropped back to Nines’s face, his trembling fingers brushing against the android’s jaw. “I knew,” he whispered.
Connor’s eyes shifted to him, the weight of his attention heavy but patient.
“I think… I think I always knew,” Gavin continued, his words stumbling over themselves. “And I never said anything. I never said…” He trailed off, his breath catching as his throat closed up.
Those three words. The ones he’d never spoken aloud. The ones that could’ve changed everything.
“I-I never told him,” Gavin choked, his shoulders shaking violently. “Not even on the balcony. I said everything… but not that. Not the one thing that mattered most.”
His voice broke, a sharp, jagged sound that echoed through the now-empty ballroom. “I never told him!”
And then he fell apart.
Fresh sobs wracked his body, harsher and more unrelenting than before. His chest heaved as he cried, each breath a struggle against the tidal wave of grief threatening to drown him.
For a moment, Connor remained silent, his gaze fixed on his brother’s lifeless body. Then, finally, he spoke.
“He knew.”
The words were cold, flat, and robotic, but they cut through Gavin’s sobs like a knife.
Gavin turned slowly, his neck stiff and protesting, as he forced himself to meet Connor’s eyes. The android’s face was blank, his expression distant. But his eyes…
Connor’s eyes were dull, lifeless, and broken in a way Gavin had never seen before.
“He knew,” Connor repeated, his voice quieter this time. “You think he didn’t, but he did. He always knew.”
Gavin’s breath hitched, his heart clenching painfully. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to cling to those words, to let them be the balm for his raw, aching soul. But it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t bring Nines back.
Connor rose to his feet, his movements stiff and unnatural. He looked down at Gavin, his expression unreadable.
“Live,” he said simply.
The word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Connor’s gaze lingered on Gavin for a moment longer before he turned and walked away. His steps were slow, deliberate, and without hesitation.
“He would want you to,” Connor said over his shoulder, his voice barely audible as he disappeared into the shadows.
And just like that, Gavin was alone again.
The ballroom was silent now, the chaos of the earlier raid reduced to a distant hum. Gavin sat there, cradling Nines’s body, his tears falling freely as he rocked back and forth.
He couldn’t let go. Not yet.
Because if he let go, it would mean accepting that Nines was gone. And Gavin wasn’t ready for that.
Not now.
Not ever.