Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Drip.

A water droplet lands in a puddle. Echoes in the hollow silence.

Drip.

It drew his consciousness out of the darkness.

Drip.

Bleary eyes fluttered, struggling to open through the haze of… something. Something heavy. Something that insistently weighed them down, weighed his body down, and wrapped him in a heavy blanket of fog.

A hand clasped at his jaw tightly. The sound of metal clinked together, echoing loudly in too-sensitive ears, making him wince and groan with the pain with it.

His vision swam in front of him as an unfocused figure peered down at him from above. A wavy smile spread in front of him, taking up the majority of the figure’s face.

”Welcome back, Connor~”

—

The precious sons and daughters old,
worth their weight in gold.
’Tis not the death of the meek,
but rather those of skills I seek.
Do you hear my clarion call,
You precious keepers of the law?

—

------------------------------------
LOCATION: Detroit Central Police Station
REMAINING TIME: 40:25:19
------------------------------------

Tensions were high in the bullpen. Patrol officers and androids alike could be seen discussing with one another as they all poured over the map placed front and center. Discussing patrol patterns, perimeter checks, areas to be monitored and areas that still needed to be checked. Reports of success never came. Each location checked only provided yet another infuriating failure.

Niles kept his ice-blue gaze on the map, on the evidence, on the infuriatingly cryptic note pinned at the top. The stylus normally tucked against the side of his tablet danced and spun effortlessly in his hand before he halted it, pressed it between thumb and pointer finger.

They were missing something and he knew they were. All the clues, all the words, the infuriating note .

“Nines.”

His gaze flit up at the use of his nickname in his place of work . It was everything he could do to keep his heart in his chest, face-to-face with—

“Logan,” he forced out, tried to keep his voice steady.

“You keep that up, and you’re gonna snap it in half,” his brother remarked, adjusting the messenger bag he had draped across half his body. “C’mon. Let’s get lunch.”

The incredulous look on his face must have shown if the roll of Logan’s eyes was anything to go by.

“You look like shit. Gav’s still working on Hank, and I’m fucking starving.” The technician folded his arms. “And we gotta go check on Sumo.”

“... Fine.”

It had only been eight hours, and everything was already falling apart.

Eight hours since the DPD’s Central Station received an anonymous letter and Connor’s badge covered in his own blood. 

Logan insisted on driving the Oldsmobile — a practical relic left over from their parents, a relic that Connor had insisted they keep and even drive. Their older brother worked on it tirelessly to keep it running as efficiently and smoothly as possible, the only one among them that could really afford to do so given his rank and pay.

And Logan had taken it over after…

The car stopped in the driveway of their family home, and the familiar bark of their brother’s dog came bellowing from the inside. Niles stepped out as Logan moved to the front door, eyes gazing out on the front lawn. The grass was just shy of overgrown, likely would need to be cut this weekend. The few plants decorating the front porch were closed, dull, dormant as if waiting for the return of their owner and the warmth of spring.

He gently touched the leaves of one, pressing it between his fingers. Dry. It would need to be watered. The edges of the leaves were already browning.

The loud sigh behind him was his only warning before he felt himself sharply tugged and pulled into the house.

“Logan—”

And then shoved towards the bathroom. It was all Niles could do to keep his balance, to avoid falling flat on his face, and now the bubble of annoyance had him rounding on his older brother. “This is unnecessary,” he stated flatly, struggling to keep the edge of irritation out of his tone. “I don’t—”

Though, really, any amount of retort fell flat when a hundred-something pound dog chose that particular moment to jump at his back and bark .

Niles was taken down with an undignified yelp, barely able to keep his head from slamming into the tile, now under the assault of entirely too much affection from such a large breed of dog.

“Sumo—!” The younger brother groaned as he tried to wiggle and make it onto his back, brace Sumo’s face away from his own, and all that resulted in him getting slobber on his hands and the rest of his face. Logan’s cackling in the background only had him shooting a glare towards his older brother as the technician shut the front door. “ Sixty! ”

“No can do, lil bro. Can’t get dog fur all over this lab coat. You know how it is. Delicate equipment and all~”

Niles let out a defeated groan as he opted to just finally accept defeat, and with that, Sumo seemed to finally settle on top of the younger detective. He gave him a pat on the head for good behavior.

“Are you cooking here, then?” he deigned to ask, testing the dog’s boundaries to see if he’d let him rise. Sumo huffed and seemed to get the idea, and with another nudge, the old Saint Bernard finally moved off of him.

”Yeah,” Logan replied, scowling as he looked through the cabinets in the kitchen. “Con filled the place recently, so there’s shit to use here for once.” There was a quiet ‘aha’ as he crouched in front of one of the lower cabinets, hefting out the bag of dog food. “And all of mom’s recipe cards are here, anyway.” 

At the easily-identifiable sound of his own bag of food, Sumo let out an eager, well-meaning BOOF and trotted over to the kitchen. Giant tail wagging, fur flying, tongue hanging out in eager pants. There was no small amount of grousing as Logan tried to keep the eager giant from bowling him over next, and the petty side of Niles was ready to see it happen. The nicer side of him gave a soft whistle to catch Sumo’s attention, momentarily distracting him with pats upon his head to give Logan room to actually fill the bowl.

”I dunno what it says that he’s still acting all… this.” Once more Logan filled the silence between them with idle chatter once he’d gotten the bag of food put away again. “Fuckin’ Connor needs to come home more often if his dog’s used to him not being around.”

He could only hum his agreement, noncommittal as the noise itself was.

”I mean, look at him.” There were pots and pans clattering now. “Big lug is practically dying from the lack of attention.” Niles disagreed with that statement, as he watched Sumo devour the contents of his food bowl. They both knew Connor loved the gentle giant with all his heart. Hell, he knew Logan did, too, or they were unlikely to be here in the first place.

Yet the mirth hardly lasted before an empty hollowness settled in his chest, the unspoken tension and emotion between them building uncomfortably again. The cloud of uncertainty hung over them, oppressive and threatening to suck the air out of his lungs, as Niles gave Sumo one last scritch behind the ears before stepping away and down the hall.

Up the singular flight of stairs in the living room and to the right. The familiarity of the family home stayed true even with the repairs and little changes Connor had made here and there — from repainting and updating some of the fixtures to modern day regulations to the addition of little plants or some dog-themed knick-knack that Logan endlessly made fun of. Pictures of their parents hung on the wall by the staircase, dead center and surrounded by various pictures of each brother. Rather than old pictures of childhood days, however, Niles found himself stopping and looking at the new additions.

There was, of course, the expected pictures — Connor’s and Niles’ respective graduations from the police academy, their uniforms pressed. Logan’s graduation from his university, his graduation cap decorated to the nines with various pins and stickers from the shows and university achievements he’d gotten. The family photo from the last time their parents were alive over a decade ago, all of them sitting nice and proper for it that Niles knew had taken the better part of an hour to get them all together. An almost-professional portrait of Sumo in the backyard, wearing a bandana that Niles was pretty sure had come from the groomers, and Connor behind him.

Yet what was surprising was the newer additions to it. Photos of Hank from the first time he’d joined the DPD as a free android, his hand being shaken by North. Another one of him staring in confusion at the engine of the Oldsmobile, another of a selfie of him, Connor, and Sumo. There were photos of the day Logan opened his new android repair center, cutting the ribbon from the grand ceremony in his criminally casual outfit compared to everyone else’s formal attire. Photos of Gavin and Niles that he certainly didn’t remember having taken, both of them engrossed in some paperwork that was littering Niles’ desk in the bullpen.

There were so few pictures of Connor.

His breath caught in his throat at the realization. It disturbed him far more than he wanted to admit. That there were so few pictures of their elder brother when there were so many of both Niles and even Logan, as reclusive as he was, and even the number of pictures of Hank and Gavin far outnumbered those of Connor himself.

That wouldn’t change if they didn’t find him.

There was an ugly whine in his ears, a broken noise joining it as his vision blurred. There were so few pictures despite how much Connor did for them, how he’d taken up the mantle after their parents had died when he was just eighteen and barely starting his days in the police academy. He’d encouraged Logan to keep up his studies while making sure to pack them all a meal for the day, helped Niles with his homework and ensured he had the freedom to choose whether he wanted to join the force or go on to university.

Always supporting them.

Always supporting others.

Who had supported Connor?

Niles didn’t know when a pair of arms had wrapped around him, when he had been lowered to sit on the stairs. He didn’t know when the tightness in his chest had erupted into choking, gasping sobs, only that they overwhelmed him as much as the sheer terror of their reality did.

Connor had been taken by the same madman from all those years ago, and they had no fucking idea how to find him.

Hank had been found in an alleyway so damaged that they might not be able to put him back together.

“We’ll find him,” Logan hushed, and Niles didn’t resist the urge to latch on like his older brother could keep him from falling apart. He dug his fingers into the fabric of Logan’s shirt, buried his face in his shoulders as shuddering, muted sobs forced their way past his lips and stressed, anxious tears spilled from his eyes. “We’ll find him and repair Hank and everything’ll go back to normal.”

Niles felt his thoughts spiraling: this was too similar to the last time. Too similar to the days, all those years ago, where the brothers were stuck at home waiting on word from the police department to tell them whether or not they had a lead. Where all they had was each other and no androids that had become integral parts of their lives.

“We’ll find him ,” Logan repeated, insisted, as he squeezed Niles against him, rubbed circles in his back. “It’s not the same as before. It’s not. ”

It wasn’t. Logically, Niles knew that. He knew things were different now, that they had better leads and better technology. They had Gavin, the most advanced android in existence, working with them. They had the New Jericho androids on the lookout for Hank’s parts — all because Connor had treated them right — simply because they wanted to help however they could.

“We’ve got Hank. We’ve got Gavin. Gavin’s gonna put Hank back together and we’ll repair his parts. The whole department’s on the lookout for clues.” Logan was babbling, Niles knew it and he was sure his brother did as well: his own stress always made him talk too much, his own emotions a fiery tornado that he was likely struggling to hold back and only doing so for Niles’ sake. “We’ll find the fucker and bring Con home and we’ll watch his favourite shitty shows.”

“We’ll find him,” Niles echoed once he trusted his own voice, meek and tired as it came out. He loosened his grip on Logan’s shirt, grimaced when he realized how much he’d likely ruined it.

“That’s the spirit,” the technician huffed, reaching out to wipe away his tears and snot with his sleeve like Niles was still a child. His lips curled into a half-hearted, lop-sided grin. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

Logan snorted as he stood then, his brown gaze falling on the picture wall for a bit longer before making his way back down. “Go clean up. Lunch’ll be done soon.”

Right. Lunch. Niles scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaustion in his form as he realized he’d have to go back to the station soon enough. He lifted his wrist, stared at the watch on his wrist, at the time.

Only then did he remember the actual commute time from the station to this house.

He blinked up at Logan’s amused snort, at the shit-eating grin on his face now prevalent.

“North said, and I quote, ‘if he comes back here in less than eight hours, I’m gonna suspend him for his own good’.” 

Somehow, Niles couldn’t find himself to be upset about the situation.

Chapter Text

The next time he woke up, that infernal dripping was still there, still echoing in the vast nothingness that was his apparent prison.

Connor didn’t know where he was. He didn’t even know how long he’d been here.

He wasn’t blindfolded, he was certain of that. The rattling of chains and the cold metal against his wrists told him he was chained, rather crudely, to an immovable fixture. There was no metal clasp, just a knot of chain links wrapped so tightly around his wrists that it pinched his skin painfully if he moved wrong. There wasn’t very much length, forcing him to keep his hands behind his back. He could feel the rust against his skin.

A cough rattled through his chest painfully, ending in a pained groan as a stabbing pain shot through his right side. Breathing was just as bad if he tried to take a deep breath. He really hoped he didn’t have a broken rib.

Metal scraped against metal as a door creaked open. He flinched as light burst in, blinding him, and forced him to turn his gaze away from the opening. Footsteps approached him, heels clicking against metal flooring. That narrowed down the number of places he could be.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, tried to sit up just a bit more so he might get a better look at his captor.

Breathe through the rising panic. (Or was that his stomach contents threatening to come up?)

He should say something, anything. Keep talking, show that he was still alive, but his mouth felt like cotton had replaced his tongue. Any thoughts or formulated sentences floated away before completion, even as a deceptively cool hand gripped at his jaw and forced his gaze upwards.

Bleary eyes tried to focus on the swimming face in front of him.

He may as well have tried to catch water with his hands.

“Don’t worry, Connor.” A voice. It was on the cusp of familiarity in a way that tightened the knot in his gut. “We have plenty of time left together.” A dark chuckle echoed around him as clothing ruffled and movement caused his vision to blur. “I’ve given them the clues. For your sake, I hope your team is smarter now than they were before.”

A sharp pinch in his arm made him flinch.

The pain didn’t last long as he hissed from it.

Neither did his consciousness.

—

------------------------------------
ANDROID REPAIR CENTER: AVARICE HAVEN
REMAINING TIME: 36:14:54
------------------------------------

”Shit, fuck, dammit— “

Gavin groaned as he thunked his head against the table for the third time in as many minutes. Fastest processing power ever created, unmatched speed and computation power, and he could not, for the life of him, figure out why Hank’s memory files were as inaccessible as they were.

And it pissed him off.

He stuck his hands into the android’s skull again, plates out of the way and wires exposed as he had his gaze searching, scanning, looking for any hint that maybe he had missed something, somewhere, somehow.

Which was stupid, because he hadn’t and he knew it.

And it pissed him off.

”Last HK800 in fucking existence and someone decides to fucking fry his ass,” he hissed out, ripping his hands and kicking the unsuspecting chair nearby out of his pacing path. Because it was a stupid chair in his stupid way and god fucking shit balls—

It was their only lead. Hank was their only lead. Androids recorded everything and anything around them at all hours in their memory chips, and if they could figure out why Hank’s was being a god damned piece of shit, they might be closer to figuring out what even happened to him and Connor. They could figure out how Cyberilfe’s most advanced prototype was found in literal pieces, barely functional and on the verge of permanent shutdown, in some rundown alley behind a bar of all places.

Hank didn’t do bars.

Connor definitely didn’t do bars.

So Gavin would very much like to know why the fuck—

“Gav, please tell me that hole in the wall was here before you got here.”

Steel-grey eyes flit up as the door to the lab slid shut behind Logan and Niles. The android lifted his lips into a lopsided grin, irritation be damned. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nope.”

Logan stared with an irritated scowl, pinching the bridge of his nose with a matching sigh before he wandered over to his computer. “Any luck on the memory chip?”

”Not a fuckin’ bit,” Gavin sighed dramatically, rocking on his heels some. “But I got some good news, some bad news. Which you want first?”

”Whichever one’s going to get Niles to sleep tonight.”

”I slept,” the detective protested, ice-blue gaze meeting Gavin’s with ease. Honestly, it was why they got along so well as partners: Niles had balls, and he rarely backed down from the RK900.

Even if he was still a god-awful fucking liar. Somehow in the time that they spent apart, Niles managed to look even less put-together. He had showered and changed out of yesterday’s clothes, but the traces of dried tears still remained around slightly-swollen eyes. He hadn’t bothered styling his hair like he normally would. His blood pressure and heart rate were still elevated.

Fuckin’ human.

”Yeah, literally none of your biometrics agree with that.” He just maintained an air of dry innocence at the deadpan from his partner, sliding up to stand beside the human and gently shoulder bump him. “Good news, Hank’s memory chip isn’t fried. Some of his noncritical parts were, but they were compatible with every other android, so I managed to swap ‘em out. All considered, he’s lucky to be alive, and we can wake him up whenever. He’s just… y’know, kinda missing some more vital parts.” He waved towards the HK800, sitting pretty with a missing arm, a damaged faceplate and a missing optical unit on the left half of his face.

”What’s the bad news?” Logan asked, raising a brow.

”His memory chip’s fuckin’ encrypted.”

“I’m fuckin’ sorry? ”

Under normal circumstances, Gavin might have found it funny how easily Logan was continually frustrated. This, however, was anything but a normal circumstance.

”Can you decrypt it?” Niles asked, and Gavin peered up at his partner. He clicked his tongue, grimacing some as he fidgeted on the spot.

”I can, but like… “ He slipped his hands out of his pockets in favour of grabbing the sides of his hood, lips pressing thin together. “… I mean, he can’t exactly consent.”

”And?”

”I mean… consent is—“

”Who the fuck cares?!” Logan shouted, rounding on the GV900.

Gavin felt his stress rise with that. Hell, he could see everyone’s stress rise with that. The tension in the air was palpable, a knot sitting tight in his thirium pump.

”Logan,” Niles started, stepping forward to placate his brother.

”No, fuck you, we literally have a fucking lead right here!” Logan jabbed a sharp finger at Hank, brown eyes glaring up at his younger brother. “And your bitch-ass android won’t do the one thing that could get us answers now!”

“I’m not a fuckin’ ‘bitch-ass’!” Gavin hissed, and it was only by grace of Niles’ arm blocking his path from stepping further that he didn’t lunge at Logan. “It’s Hank! I’m not gonna probe Hank of all people!”

“He was the last one to see Connor! Fuck’s sake, his memory chip’s in tact, he’s not going to give a shit when we can’t even get him back online! The least he could do when he couldn’t even save him is—“

With all of his advanced processing and his preconstruction, his predictions of what may or may not occur and the likelihood of it all, Gavin had a rough idea of what might occur.

Scenario One: He shoved Niles out of his goddamn way to beat the shit out of Logan. Probability: 95%.

Scenario Two: Logan started a fist fight with Niles. Probability: 85%.

Scenario Three: Niles dragged Gavin away in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Probability: 98%. (Success rate abso-fucking-lutely not.)

None of his preconstructions had predicted that Niles would slap his brother.

In hindsight, he realized as the room fell silent with the echo of flesh against flesh fading, in all the time Gavin had known the young detective, he had never actually seen him lose his composure.

He had never seen his stress anywhere near the gut-wrenching 73% it was sitting at currently.

Most advanced android be damned.

(So it had only been a few months, sue him.)

“You know why he can’t.” The tone that came out of the youngest brother was flat, tight. Gavin could see his stress levels rising as time ticked by, a glassiness to already-tired eyes. “It’s against the law precisely because of how invasive an action it is. We’ll find another way, but we are not making Gavin probe Hank. Connor would never forgive us.”

It was, perhaps, a little unfair that Gavin could see the milliseconds of the fiery brother’s anger boiling up and over, past its breaking point, as his stress levels climbed and settled at a gut-wrenching 100%.

”Connor’s not here!” Logan shrieked, advancing, shoving against Niles, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, shoving him against the nearest table and looking ready to punch him.

Shit, this was getting out of hand fast.

”Hey, meatbag, calm down—“ Gavin hissed, already reaching to try and get the brothers apart before someone did something they fucking regretted. Yet Niles — sweet, ever stoic, frustratingly calm Niles — was holding a hand out to stop him, and the GV900 was about ready to scream—

“Connor’s not fucking here,” Logan spat, fists balled up as he kept his younger brother pinned, rage and something else that Gavin hadn’t quite identified twisting his features into something far uglier than he was prepared to see on Connor’s doppleganger. “He’s not fucking here because that fucking madman took him again!”

Gavin really, really, really hoped Niles knew what he was doing as Logan continued to spit and rage, looking ready to punch as he kept his brother pinned mercilessly to the table they were both bent over. His cheek was already swelling from the slap from earlier.

”He tore Hank apart and took our brother and left us some stupid fucking note again like that’s going to tell us where the hell they are, while there’s some god damn time limit that we don't actually know how much time has passed since no one saw the moment he was taken except our shit-ass android dad-wannabe!”

… God, human fragility or whatever be damned, Gavin couldn’t just let his partner get decked.

”And while Gav’s fucking around trying to play technician, you’re drowning yourself in word at the fucking precinct, Hank’s parts are god knows where, leaving me to have to pick up the fucking pieces—“

Anger was his immediate response (because ex-fucking-cuse you, he was way better than some human technician), because no one, not even Logan, was allowed to just… just go off like this for no reason. Even he knew this was some breach of human social etiquette or what have you, and these two were supposed to be brothers. Brothers were supposed to be supporting each other, not fighting the way Logan seemed to so desperately want—

“—but I can’t do it, Niles!”

Gavin blinked. Processed as his LED cycled from blue to yellow. Logan’s stress levels were still sitting at a concerning 100%, but Niles’ had started to lower with each trembling sob that ripped itself past Logan’s lips. The younger brother had managed to push himself to sit up, disheveled but unharmed, his hand coming to wrap around the ones still balled in his shirt. He met his partner’s eyes — grey holding onto ice blue — for just a second, and Gavin could only let out a near-silent huff as he shoved his hands back into his pockets as they just… listened.

“I can’t,” Logan squeaked out, burying his head against Niles’ chest, his shoulders shaking with every sob that forced its way out of him. He flinched sharply when the younger tried to reach around to hug, not quite ready for that level of brotherly camaraderie. “Fuck, I can’t even look in a mirror right now, how the fuck am I supposed to be the unflappable big brother for you?”

… Oh, for fuck’s—

“Then don’t be,” Gavin said, bluntly, disturbing the delicate balance between the three of them. He held his hands up in mock surrender as two pairs of eyes fell on him. “Not saying not to do shit, but like… look, both of you are being way too hard on yourselves considering what the fuck you’re going through. So just… ” He waved a hand a bit, his processor actually struggling to find the words he should say to help these two idiots. “… don't go trying to shoulder it all alone? You guys got each other, but you’ve also got me, the precinct, Hank whenever he gets his lazy ass back up and running… ”

Now he was babbling, just spilling out whatever differences to Now and what he knew of Then as he watched each humans’ stress levels tick further and further down. Despite the incredulous look he was getting from Niles. Despite the choked half-sob, half-laugh that Logan let out.

“Seriously, you’re both being watched over by the world’s most advanced android in existence! You’ve got the best person in the fuckin’ world to help you out!”

Yet the tension had abated. Even Gavin found himself breathing a little easier as he watched the brothers tend to one another — hug one another — as their stress levels climbed back down to more manageable, less knot-inducing percentages. He ran a hand through his synthetic hair, grey eyes flitting over to his android companion.

“At least you look old,” he grumbled under his breath, a fool’s volume to avoid the humans’ ears while Hank remained as unresponsive to the world as ever. He felt old, and he wasn’t even more than a few months past his activation date.

These damn brothers were going to stress the shit out of him until his life expectancy withered to nothing, weren’t they?

He couldn’t deny, however, that he had grown particularly fond of them. Maybe that came with the fact that it was these three idiots that had found him in that locked-up lab those three months ago. Maybe it was that he had been partnered with Niles, a DPD detective, and had more than a few life-threatening chases already that required him to keep his meatbag of a partner alive and well. Because no matter how much he denied it, Niles was shit at taking care of himself, and that only ever seemed to worsen the more stressed he got.

Unflappable brother, yeah fucking right.

Between him and Connor, Gavin was pretty sure they were the only two people on the planet that could tell when Niles was in desperate need of some looking after.

And one of them was in the hands of a crazed killer.

The GV900 heaved out a sigh, facing the offline HK as he folded his arms, scratching his chin in thought. He paced around to the back of his open skull, letting the synthskin on his hands recede as he plucked the memory chip out of its delicate housing, mindful of the myriad of wires and other components so as not to cause more damage than there already was.

“Do you have an idea?” Gavin peered up at Niles as the detective approached, furrowed his brows and looked around to see Logan had… gone? He looked left and right around the lab before shooting a confused look to his partner. Niles just gave a half-shrug in response. “He’s getting some air.”

“Oh. Well, good for him.” He let himself sway, knocking his shoulder against Niles idly before holding up the memory chip between his thumb and index finger. “I’m gonna try and interface again. Should be able to, and it should be… less weird.” He wrinkled his nose. “Still kinda ass to do, but… I’m thinking. If he wanted to keep anyone from accessing it, he could’ve just let it be fried with the rest of him.”

Niles canted his head. “But he didn’t.”

“Nope.” Gavin took to sitting on one of Logan’s stools, holding the chip in the palm of his hand. “He encrypted it. Bet you can guess the number of anyone that could try to decrypt the HK800’s memory chip.” His lips curled into a lopsided grin when he saw the puzzle pieces fitting into place right before his human’s eyes. “If you guessed almost no one, you’d be right.”

“You’re on the list of people who can, though?”

“Cyberlife’s most advanced android,” Gavin cackled, waving a hand dramatically over himself. “I’m sure Logan can, too, but… maybe when he’s not having a mental breakdown.” He let his grin fall off his face, however, as he cupped the memory chip between both hands now, his synthskin receding. “I need you to have my back, though. There’s no telling how bad this shit’s gonna be when I crack it.”

Niles pressed his lips together and gave a small nod. “What do you need me to do?”

The GV900 lifted a hand to his LED. “You remember how to put me in stasis, yeah?” His partner nodded. “Cool.” He lifted off the stool, wandering around, plucking off the wire monitoring Hank’s stress and plugging it into his own port. No technician, no problem: time to improvise. When his own stress levels showed up on the monitor — a cool 23%, thank you very much — he plopped back on his stool, scooting a bit closer so as not to stretch the wire too much. Gavin tapped at the monitor, meeting Niles’ gaze. “If that number hits 90%, put me under.”

“Will that not damage your systems?”

“Probably leave me confused more than anything. That’s better than you trying to fight a stressed-out GV900.”

It was a crapshoot, really. There was no telling what he was going to find on the memory chip, what effect it would have on him. But he was deviant, and deviant androids had a tendency of self-destructing when their stress levels were too high for them to manage.

And like hell he was going to be taken out by his own fucking virus-addled coding.

He had three meatbags to look over, after all.

Synthskin receding, hands clapping over the memory chip. Gavin closed his eyes.

INITIALIZING INTERFACE
ACCESSING… DENIED]
-STARTING DECRYPTION PROGRAM… OK]
…
…
…
………DECRYPTION COMPLETE]

IDENTIFYING…
-MEMORY FILE: HK800]
-OPEN FILE… Y/N]
………Y]

“It’s g̸e̵t̸t̷i̴n̸g̵ late, kid.”

“Shit! I promised I̴’̷d̶ ̷b̶e̵ home on ̵t̶i̴m̴e̷ today!”

“C’mon, wrap up, we’ve still gotta get g̵r̸o̶c̶e̵r̷i̸e̸s̴.”

̶̙͇̜̰̟̓̄͊̋̉̂P̵̭̮̬͙̄̈́̈́ͅR̷̻̟̟͔̱͋͌̊͊̂̚O̸͍̭͆̓̐̈͗͛T̷̤̥̉́̉͒͠E̶̱̯̣̽͐͒̿͋Ĉ̶̘͖͕̠͕̞̋͝Ț̷̡̛̐̿͘ ̵͔̝̼͓̦͋́̀́́C̵̹̃͗̂͌̕̕O̸̮͚̙̐ͅŅ̴̦̦̠̠͍͌̑̾͗͒̕Ǹ̵̪̌̆͠O̷͍͌̍̎̈́̾͘Ŗ̴̲͓͚̺̏̍͘

R̵̛̠͗̋͛͘Ę̴̟͕̾̌̀̓͝M̵̡̥̲̝̀͛̉͑̓É̸̢̙̼̇̕̕͠M̶̼̥̯͔̣̈͗B̷̞̽Ę̸͉̼̞̙̗̒̽R̵̩̭̥̐͘

“What do you think? C̴h̵i̸c̴k̵e̶n̸ ̸o̸r̷ ̴f̸i̸s̵h̸?̸”

“Chicken. T̴h̶a̵t̴ ̴f̴i̶s̵h̶ is about as fresh as the c̶͚̘̄͛o̷̠̩̓f̷̭̩͆f̷̡͖̎e̵̪͂e̶͇̘̽ at the precinct.”

“… Ugh. Gross.”

̶̙͇̜̰̟̓̄͊̋̉̂P̵̭̮̬͙̄̈́̈́ͅR̷̻̟̟͔̱͋͌̊͊̂̚O̸͍̭͆̓̐̈͗͛T̷̤̥̉́̉͒͠E̶̱̯̣̽͐͒̿͋Ĉ̶̘͖͕̠͕̞̋͝Ț̷̡̛̐̿͘ ̵͔̝̼͓̦͋́̀́́C̵̹̃͗̂͌̕̕O̸̮͚̙̐ͅŅ̴̦̦̠̠͍͌̑̾͗͒̕Ǹ̵̪̌̆͠O̷͍͌̍̎̈́̾͘Ŗ̴̲͓͚̺̏̍͘
R̵̛̠͗̋͛͘Ę̴̟͕̾̌̀̓͝M̵̡̥̲̝̀͛̉͑̓É̸̢̙̼̇̕̕͠M̶̼̥̯͔̣̈͗B̷̞̽Ę̸͉̼̞̙̗̒̽R̵̩̭̥̐͘

“We’re b̴̧̐̏ḗ̸̙ḭ̴̝̍͊n̴̮͎͑g̴̱̅ ̷͕̀f̶̮̄͝o̴̪̐l̵̰̠͗l̵͍͆ǫ̵̨̇w̸̖͒ẹ̷͝d̸͕̦̚͝.”

“Huh? By who?”

“Dunno. They’re staying just o̸̮̝̾̓u̷͈̲̍̀t̵̠̖̎ ̸̪̿ò̸̭͝f̸͓͓̂ ̶̺̂ͅm̶̱͝ͅy̴͇̲̐ ̷̖̲̏̎p̷̦̬͊è̵͙̻ŗ̷̜̈ī̷̘m̴̛̛̰ě̷͓̺̐t̵͔͖̽e̵͕̭͑̓ṙ̷̳̟̕, so I can’t ID them.”

“Since when?”

“Since we left the s̵̛̖͘t̸̰͝a̷͕̬̐t̴̙͖͋i̴̯̰͌o̷̱̼̒n̴̩̎́.”

̶̙͇̜̰̟̓̄͊̋̉̂P̵̭̮̬͙̄̈́̈́ͅR̷̻̟̟͔̱͋͌̊͊̂̚O̸͍̭͆̓̐̈͗͛T̷̤̥̉́̉͒͠E̶̱̯̣̽͐͒̿͋Ĉ̶̘͖͕̠͕̞̋͝Ț̷̡̛̐̿͘ ̵͔̝̼͓̦͋́̀́́C̵̹̃͗̂͌̕̕O̸̮͚̙̐ͅŅ̴̦̦̠̠͍͌̑̾͗͒̕Ǹ̵̪̌̆͠O̷͍͌̍̎̈́̾͘Ŗ̴̲͓͚̺̏̍͘
R̵̛̠͗̋͛͘Ę̴̟͕̾̌̀̓͝M̵̡̥̲̝̀͛̉͑̓É̸̢̙̼̇̕̕͠M̶̼̥̯͔̣̈͗B̷̞̽Ę̸͉̼̞̙̗̒̽R̵̩̭̥̐͘

“Down this alley.”

“Ki—Con, it’s a d̵̹͝e̷̩͗á̷̲d̸̹̾ ̴̊͜é̷͜n̴̟̈́d̴̼̈ . ”

“Ê̵̯ẋ̷̺a̶̡͝c̴̼̉t̴͓͠l̶͍͗y̴̖͌.”

“I hope ẙ̷̝o̴̠͂u̷̳͐ ̶̹͝k̷̫̀n̵̪̒ǫ̷͆ẉ̶̅ ̸̬̅w̴̨̿ḥ̸͊a̴̤͂t̵̜̍ ̶̤͝y̸͓͊o̵̺̚ȗ̴̖’̸̭͑r̵̟̒e̵͍͐ ̶͉͑d̶̻̈́o̴̱͝i̶̝̅n̷̫̚’̴͎̋—̷̳̒“

̸͕̜͙̑Ë̴͔̦̯̘͈́̔̌̈̎R̶̢̚̚͜Ṙ̸͈̪͋͋̚͝Ò̸͎̙͐͘R̴̺̥̾͊—̸̨̫̒̅̓̍̔
̴̧̯̤̙̓E̷̻̍͗̍͗R̷̨̥̞͆̃͘͝R̸̛̯̹̒̈́̎͘Ö̸̖̳̚Ȓ̵̹̰́—̷̩̩̬͙̏̈̿̃͘
E̷͚̥̻͋̍ͅL̴̹̳̆̉͛̐͑̐Ę̴̱̫̮͚̋̈́̕͜C̶̮̗̖̝̾̈́Ţ̶̮͖̦̔̀̿͐͛͗ͅR̵̤̩̜͕̆̍͌͋I̸̪̜͈͛̍́ͅC̴̡͂͆̍̈́̔A̶̦͒̽͒̑̉͠L̴̹͈̣̭̠̃ ̷̗̊̈́͛̋S̴̜͚̚U̶̺̣͊̂͐R̴̢̦̙̫̔̔̒̄͐G̸̩͇͚̕E̴̫͊͋ ̸̯̎͛̾Ḏ̷̨̲͔͚̾Ẹ̸̌͝T̸̯͚̙̯͇̓̉̐͜E̶͎̱̓͋C̴̨̢̠̼̲͚͒T̸͙̲̔̓́̒Ẽ̸͍̤̯̩̠̉D̵̼͑

“Ḏ̴̬̖͍̓ở̷̬͕͛͘n̷̤̖͎͜͝’̵͈̰̟͕͈̫̈́̒̌̇t̵̨̬̙̓ ̴͈̳̳̓̇t̴̻̏͛͆̉̓́ơ̷̢̢͚̣͕͖̈́̿̚ū̷̯͜c̵̢̿h̷̢̦̋ ̵͙͓͈̻̩̾͗̆̀̏͊h̴̼̯̳̗̗̍̑̚͘ĩ̷͎̘́̓̆́̚m̸̼̝̤̙̽!̴̟̟̗͈̙̈́̍͋͗̽̚”̵̖̗̄̌͗̅͊

S̷̪̥̟̰̖̎̌͐́̿͝Y̴͓̘̭̰̏̒̋S̸̹̥̻̣̝͑͌̍̅̐͝T̷͚̺̟̻̍̐̈́͐͘Ê̸̛͔̦̩̟͜Ḿ̷̫̕͠ ̷̯̦͍͐́̈́͆̽Ȏ̶̖̰V̷̼̫̫͚̌̎͠E̶̡̛̳̖̠̬͗R̶̫̫̥͕̫̋L̴̩̀͂͝Ǫ̶̮̼͕̣̮́̽̎A̴̙̺͙͚̒̈́̕͜D̶͍͕͛̒̓̌̎̍
̶̙͇̜̰̟̓̄͊̋̉̂P̵̭̮̬͙̄̈́̈́ͅR̷̻̟̟͔̱͋͌̊͊̂̚O̸͍̭͆̓̐̈͗͛T̷̤̥̉́̉͒͠E̶̱̯̣̽͐͒̿͋Ĉ̶̘͖͕̠͕̞̋͝Ț̷̡̛̐̿͘ ̵͔̝̼͓̦͋́̀́́C̵̹̃͗̂͌̕̕O̸̮͚̙̐ͅŅ̴̦̦̠̠͍͌̑̾͗͒̕Ǹ̵̪̌̆͠O̷͍͌̍̎̈́̾͘Ŗ̴̲͓͚̺̏̍͘
̸͕̜͙̑Ë̴͔̦̯̘͈́̔̌̈̎R̶̢̚̚͜Ṙ̸͈̪͋͋̚͝Ò̸͎̙͐͘R̴̺̥̾͊
̴̧̯̤̙̓E̷̻̍͗̍͗R̷̨̥̞͆̃͘͝R̸̛̯̹̒̈́̎͘Ö̸̖̳̚Ȓ̵̹̰́

 

̶̙͇̜̰̟̓̄͊̋̉̂P̵̭̮̬͙̄̈́̈́ͅR̷̻̟̟͔̱͋͌̊͊̂̚O̸͍̭͆̓̐̈͗͛T̷̤̥̉́̉͒͠E̶̱̯̣̽͐͒̿͋Ĉ̶̘͖͕̠͕̞̋͝Ț̷̡̛̐̿͘ ̵͔̝̼͓̦͋́̀́́C̵̹̃͗̂͌̕̕O̸̮͚̙̐ͅŅ̴̦̦̠̠͍͌̑̾͗͒̕Ǹ̵̪̌̆͠O̷͍͌̍̎̈́̾͘Ŗ̴̲͓͚̺̏̍͘

R̵̛̠͗̋͛͘Ę̴̟͕̾̌̀̓͝M̵̡̥̲̝̀͛̉͑̓É̸̢̙̼̇̕̕͠M̶̼̥̯͔̣̈͗B̷̞̽Ę̸͉̼̞̙̗̒̽R̵̩̭̥̐͘

 

Ś̷̨̩̼̰̖̔̆T̷̖̄̄̏R̸̦͓̟̘̿͆E̵͇̻̊̆͝S̵̬͓̬͚̈́͗S̸͙̊́̄̽ ̶̢͓̾̌̚͝L̶̢̛̘͉͖̺̿͗E̶̢̩͗̍͋V̷̨̫͓̰̥̓̈́́͋̕É̶̘͉̓͐L̸̪̱͉̼͆͆͊̀̋—̸̬̅̈͗
̸̬͒͐͋̀͘Ȅ̴̡̤͍̥M̸̡͙͖̗̀̋̋̌͜E̷͓͓͔̾̆͝R̵̡̻̍́͂̋͝G̴̮̬̱̤̀͝Ȅ̴̘̔́̔͂N̷̗͐̓Ç̸̞̥̙͂͋̏̈́Ỷ̵͓̀͛̈́̆ ̵̧̠̓͑S̸̢͎̙̩̋̌̅̑͘T̵̖̞̓̌Ă̷̪̖̻̈ͅŠ̶̬̙̹̒̔̋̚I̸̧̮̩̩͔̓͂̉S̴̪̬͎͐—̷̮̲͗̅͆̚͠
̸̙͖̯̍͜ͅD̵̦̲̙̞̰͆̑͒̑̆I̴͇͂͂̀Ǎ̸̗̻̼G̷̻̩͖͍̩͘͘͘͠Ń̷̡͇̺̜O̶̮̝͋̑̋͒͠S̸͖̆̚Ţ̴̋̏̌I̵̻̼͓̓̄̂̔͜Ć̵̪͓̠̽S̸̫͆͒̎̀̈́ ̵̨̭̺̗̇͛͌E̶̫̹̭̳̜̓̈́̓̕R̷͎̜̎̉͛͜͝͝Ȑ̷̜͖͎͓͈̍O̸̝͗̒̈̑͘R̷̡͖̯͇̜̃͗̔͐—̶̗͖͇̩̪̀̀͂
̸͕̜͙̑Ë̴͔̦̯̘͈́̔̌̈̎R̶̢̚̚͜Ṙ̸͈̪͋͋̚͝Ò̸͎̙͐͘R̴̺̥̾͊—̸̨̫̒̅̓̍̔
̴̧̯̤̙̓E̷̻̍͗̍͗R̷̨̥̞͆̃͘͝R̸̛̯̹̒̈́̎͘Ö̸̖̳̚Ȓ̵̹̰́—̷̩̩̬͙̏̈̿̃͘

…
…
…
SYSTEM INITIALIZING…

Gavin blinked back to the present, waited for his diagnostics to finish before he attempted to regain his bearings.

Niles and Logan stood over him.

He was on his back? Wasn't he sitting down?

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Logan spat first, no small amount of irritation and stress on his face as he moved out of the way. “Fucking androids doing fucking crazy-ass shit—“

Gavin decided that tuning out the Irate One was in his better interest, especially as Logan busied himself with getting the memory chip back into Hank. Instead, he tipped his gaze to meet Niles’ worried gaze.

“That bad?” Aw, hell, his voice came out like he’d replaced his voice box with an old radio. Yeah, probably bad.

“Bad.” Yet his partner breathed out a sigh of relief, offering a guiding hand to Gavin’s back as the android sat back up. The GV felt his gyroscope flip flop and swirl in its attempt to recalibrate from whatever had knocked him offline (probably Niles), hissing as he pressed the heel of his palm to his head. "What did you find?"

"Pieces of what happened," he replied, squinting as he tested his optical units, let them recalibrate and refocus before he blinked once, twice, and a third time before things finally felt like they weren't so... fuzzy. "Part of it's corrupted as shit. He might not remember it well when we get him back up and running. How'd I get on the... " He stared and... yup. "... the floor?"

"I set you down." The detective sighed as he adjusted his own seat on the ground, wrapping an arm around Gavin's shoulders. "It was safer than letting you stay up on that stool."

The android gave a wry sort of grin. "I'm touched."

Niles just hummed in response. Silence for a moment, giving Gavin the chance to run a proper diagnostic, fix whatever errors accessing that chip. “Was it worth it?” he quietly asked.

The GV900 let out a staticky chuckle, leaning heavily on his favourite human for the time being. His systems felt like shit. He definitely wouldn't do that again anytime soon, and probably shouldn't outside of a controlled environment. But…

“Fuck yeah it was.”

Chapter Text

------------------------------------
LOCATION: Detroit Central Police Station
REMAINING TIME: 34:02:17
------------------------------------

They had a clue. A clue and a possible location and maybe, just maybe, some cameras that they could look into.

The moment Gavin had been functional enough to move, Niles had taken them back to the precinct to relay the information they had discovered. A questionable decision for the both of them, given both the threat of suspension and Gavin’s own instability (“I’m phckin’ fine , meatbag.” “You can barely stand straight.” “Then carry my ass until I can!”) but this, he figured, would be a more forgivable offense this time around.

“You need to get a fuckin’ car,” Gavin hissed, the android hanging limply off of Niles’ back as they came to a stop at the station. His gyroscope was still, much to his frustration, lagging a fair bit, but most of his systems had cooled down and returned back to baseline. The static was gone from his voice, and his LED was back to pulsing blue, for the most part, with the occasional flicker of yellow as whatever else was left processed in the background.

“The station provides me with one when needed,” Niles reminded, tugging off his helmet and securing it to his motorcycle, moving effortlessly even with an android hanging off his back. It was an age-old argument they’d been having since day one. Where it would normally bring him irritation, however, now it only provided him with a sense of relief: it meant Gavin was recovering just fine. A silly worry to have, in the grand scheme of things — Logan would never have allowed the GV900 to leave the repair center if he’d felt Gavin had any compromising issues — but it was nice to have verbal assurance.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous motorcycles are?” the android rattled off, leaning his full weight on Niles’ back as the detective stood. It took a moment of adjustment: Gavin was, strangely, lightweight for an android (hell knows why, that secret had fallen into obscurity with Cyberlife’s disappearance) but it still made for some difficulty in trying to climb off. Even if he had become something of an expert at this time.

It meant he could fully ignore the statistics being rattled off at his ear.

Sometimes it was better to just let Gavin talk, he had long-since learned. It was less exhausting for him, and it seemed to provide the android some sense of accomplishment in a strange way. In this instance, now, he seemed to provide for the both of them a sense of peace. A bit of normalcy to an otherwise frustratingly stressful number of hours.

(Over 12 hours now)

Niles took a breath in and let it out, releasing a portion of the weight that had begun to settle in his chest since his arrival at the precinct. Everything was still too much, if he was honest. As loath as he was to admit it, North had had the right idea in getting him out of the precinct for a few hours. Being able to process any amount of the situation at hand had helped, in its strange way. A few hours away to shower and eat some of Logan’s questionable cooking (chef, he was not), spend some resting (and maybe succumbing to the desire to curl with Sumo).

Even if he still felt an awful lot like a coil wound too tightly, ready to burst out of his own skin in an effort to escape the suffocating tension stuck just under the surface.

He flinched some with the metallic, if gentle, thunk to the side of his head, glancing back at Gavin as the android leaned over his shoulder so they could somewhat meet one another’s eyes.

“We heading inside or what?”

Niles gave a soft huff, a small nod in confirmation.

There was no fanfare as he walked in, refusing to meet the eyes of the android receptionist, Jeffrey. He ignored it as some of the officers turned their gazes on the pair of them, as the bullpen’s volume lowered as he came into sight. Silence was only broken by their Captain, standing there in the center overlooking the map taking up the floor.

“—send Wilson out there with Tina. Collins, circle back to the bar, see if they’ve made any progress on their damn cameras—” Though it was short-lived as her attention drew up, her brows pinched together at the sight of them both. North straightened up from where she was leaning over the map. “Anderson, 900, so help me—”

“We have something,” Gavin interrupted, pushing himself off of Niles’ back. Just a small wobble had the detective supporting his partner, but a pat on the arm assured him the android wasn’t going to be falling over anytime soon. “A couple somethings. We figured things out with Hank. Still waiting on some of his parts, but Logan’s gonna have him back online tomorrow at the latest with or without his arm.” He leaned heavily over the massive screen, the synthskin on his hands receding immediately as he interfaced and took it over. “It’s from his memory chip. Corrupted as hell, but… well, you’ll see.”

The woman heaved out an frustrated sigh, quickly tapping on the video to pause it. “Fine. Good job.” Her gaze lifted to Niles next.

“I’m not leaving,” he stated before she could speak.

“We’ve been over this, Detective—”

“He’s my brother—!”

“Which is exactly why I can’t let you watch this!” North snapped, standing her ground as she approached. She held a finger up as Niles opened his mouth, and though her irritation remained plain, her gaze softened just the barest bit. “It’s direct footage of the crime. Against every fiber of my being and departmental policy, I’m letting you stay on the case to help Collins. This is where I’m drawing the line.”

She wouldn’t budge. Niles knew she wouldn’t budge. She hadn’t made her rank of Captain by being soft and bending policy. North Atkins was a force to be reckoned with that had created legends that came second only to Connor’s. She was empathetic when she needed to be and an immovable force the rest of the time.

“You don't need to see this, Niles.”

She had already bent rules for him.

The logical, more analytical part of his mind knew she was right. He should have been kept as far from this case as possible per policy and for his own safety. He should be speaking with the station’s assigned therapist to process what was happening in the first place. There was no need to watch footage of whatever had happened to Connor and Hank, footage that had brought them all to this point.

He had convinced her he was fine, that he was handling the situation in a controlled and healthy manner. 

To argue with her now would prove otherwise, no matter how much the stubborn, anxious rage in him wanted to.

A hand wrapped around his arm, and Niles felt himself flinch as he was snapped out of his thoughts. He peered down at Gavin as the android nodded his head away from the bullpen.

He let out the breath he’d been holding, let it cool him down and ease up some of the tightness knotted in his chest.

“We’ll go look at the station’s cameras,” Niles suggested, surprising himself with how quiet he’d kept his tone. “With the new information from Hank, maybe there was something we missed.” He doubted it: he had combed through the footage once before already as it was the only thing North was allowing him to do. “That should be alright.”

North pinched the bridge of her nose again and exhaled a heavy sigh. “… Fine. See if there’s anything new. I’ll adjust patrols based on what you brought in. The second you two find something, though, you’d better tell me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gavin replied with a mock-salute as Niles led the way to the server room.

Access to the CCTV server was typically restricted to North, Connor, and their maintenance technician. With it being the only thing Niles had been allowed to assist with, and the need to review the station’s footage upon the delivery of their cryptic clue, however, he had been given what access he needed.

It had almost felt strange, to be reviewing footage in search of his own brother.

There were the expected cameras: those covering the main lobby area and the bullpen, the holding area for those arrested and kept in custody or placed in the drunk tank to sober up. There were cameras in the corridors, another placed in the evidence room itself, and at the back exit leading to the vehicle lot. Cameras faced said lot, overseeing their fleet of vehicles, and a camera caught the entrance and exit into it. A pair of cameras covered each corner of the station, monitoring the sidewalk and street in front of the station, and the fence securing their personal and fleet vehicles.

The station was practically a fortress. Between the station androids that had willingly shared what memories they had recorded and the cameras, in theory, nothing should have been missed.

“You want me to do the scrolling?” Gavin asked, taking his preferred seat upon the desk.

It would be faster. Niles knew that, even as he picked up his stylus to begin scrolling through. Yet rather than simply barrel through as was more expected of the GV android, his partner was asking, offering help rather than taking over. Letting him keep some semblance of control over an uncontrollable situation.

He appreciated it in more ways than one.

Under any other circumstances, he might have poked fun of Gavin for it. Noting the increased humanity in the android, the softness he started to portray since his release from Cyberlife Tower.

“Check the cameras outside the station,” he conceded, adjusting his own screen to his own starting point. He cleared his throat, grimacing softly as he rubbed gently at it before bringing up what footage he needed.  “I’ll check the interior.”

And so they remained in silence, poring over footage with the new information they had. Gavin provided him with the corrupted image of what the assailant might have looked like. Hours and hours of footage, of finding and following both Connor and Hank on camera. They hadn’t been particularly busy, going in and out of the precinct for an hour or two at a time to check some crime scene or leave somewhere for lunch (Niles remembered asking Connor why, remembered something about how Sumo had apparently eaten the ingredients he had been about to use in his meal prep and having no time to get more and how amusingly dejected he had been over it). Niles and Gavin had been particularly busy for the majority of the day, called to fresh scenes of homicides or responding to reports of assaults on androids, leaving them with little time to actually spend in the station.

Niles had to admit, it was remarkable how much easier this was to look through after some rest.

It was amusing in its own way to catch some of the quirks he recognized in his brother — the way he rolled his coin over his knuckles while doing reports, the near-constant fidgeting in his chair indicating when he was working on a particularly grueling one. The number of times he’d wander over to Hank’s side of the desk when something to discuss came up, or the way he and Gavin could be seen exchanging some back-and-forths (“Watch where you’re going, meatbag!” “Why can’t you just sit down like a normal person?” "Because I like sitting like this!"). 

Here, like this, he could catch the small moments of his brother sneaking pictures of him and Gavin, or the pictures he took of Hank while the HK was working.

The moments he was teaching Tina the PC200 how to roll a quarter over her knuckles.

The moments he helped Jeffrey at the receptionist’s desk, the chair and thirium he provided to the older android when he noticed him lagging.

The way confused recognition flit across his features—

… Recognition?

Niles hit pause on the recording and zoomed in.

It had been a split second where Connor’s gaze had shifted to someone Jeffrey had been helping, a split second before he had been called and turned away.

“Gavin.”

“Yup.”

They stood together now, pouring over it. Niles relinquished control as Gavin’s LED spun a rapid yellow, hand flat against the console as he pulled up the cameras and rapidly searched through them all at impossible speeds.

“We have Jeffrey’s recordings as well, right?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Yeah, he was one of the first to hand it over.” Gavin clicked his tongue. “Cross-checking and… oh, fuck… “

The knot in his chest stole his breath.

Even with the hand on his back, steadying him, lowering him into a chair, he felt an awful lot like his legs were going to give out.

There, appearing in the footage of the day no less than five times, was one person. The same person that Connor had recognized. Two times inside the precinct’s lobby itself — including his encounter with Jeffrey — and at least three outside. Hovering near the entry steps of the precinct, caught inside of and ushered out of the back lot, finally walking away near the end of the day and followed only a minute later by his brother and partner.

A dark green, tattered hoodie with sleeves covering hands and worn cargo pants, worn shoes…

“That explains why the car was left here,” Gavin muttered, LED blinking blue for a split second before returning to yellow. “C’mon, fucker, lemme see your face… “

Niles watched as Jeffrey’s recordings were pulled up next and scrolled through at dizzying speeds, furrowing his brows as dread began to settle. To an extent, he recognized the figure as well, had seen them hovering around the station, but had assumed he had just been one of many homeless that preferred to stay near the station.

What had they missed?

“There.” For once, he was faster than Gavin as he paused the footage.

Male, pale skin, clean-shaven, a broken LED on his temple.

Why would an android kidnap Connor?

“I sure as shit don't recognize that model,” Gavin spoke, breaking the silence just as they watched Jeffrey’s systems try to identify the man before them as well. The angle of the LED seemed to prevent a proper scan from either the older android and, if the annoyed huff from the GV beside him was anything to go by, the newer one as well. He let out a frustrated noise, a hair’s width away from punching the console.

Niles prided himself in being able to predict it. He wrapped his hand quickly around the android’s wrist, halting him. “If you break this, I can’t save you from the Captain.”

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ break it!”

The deviant android ripped his wrist out of Niles’ grasp, the face shot on the screen rapidly packed into an email and sent off hell-knows-where. The android spun sharply on his heel and burst out of the server room without a moment’s thought (or perhaps several thousand, Niles really couldn’t tell what went on in his partner’s head sometimes). Confusion swarmed through the young detective as he followed swiftly, jogging to keep up as Gavin seemed to be an android on a mission. 

An irritated GV900 was, at best, a handful. At worst, a possible threat.

Nothing seemed to get him to slow down even as Niles called out to get his attention (“Detective, what the hell is this—” “Suspect, put out the BOLO, Gavin has something?”) even as they came out into the vehicle lot. Gavin’s eyes were glowing blue again by the time he caught up, huffing slightly to catch his breath as he came to a stop beside him.

There were few times where the visual glitch (as the GV called it) happened. It was usually indicative of what he called ‘hunter mode,’ wherein the android hyperfocused on what his self-assigned mission was and fell to a part of his own programming — chasing suspects almost always triggered it, as did his anger and stress.

“What are you seeing?” Gavin’s LED had yet to return back to blue, but neither had it blinked red even once. Not stress then, Niles could safely assume.

“The guy’s tracks.”

Stepping forward, the hunter’s gaze swept towards the entry of the lot from the street and back again. His eyes narrowed, his steps carrying him towards the sidewalk. Niles shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants as he watched in silence: this, unfortunately, was not an area he could help with. There were far too many footprints in the lot for him to come even close to identifying what they needed to look for, and in a way it stung.

Yet there were things he could do that Gavin couldn’t and vice versa.

It was fine.

It would be fine.

The search took them out of the lot and down the street. Gavin remained as tight-lipped as ever as he pushed forward with purpose, only to stop on the street corner. His LED cycled once, twice, before his gaze turned back to his human partner.

“Hank wasn’t injured, was he?”

Niles furrowed his brows in confusion. “No. According to what we found, and the diagnostic Logan provided, he was attacked using something with high voltage.”

Gavin hummed, a noncommittal noise as he moved closer to the light pole, staring at it. One second, two, three… 

“... Gavin?”

“He left a trail with thirium.” The GV android tapped the light pole, blue eyes returning to grey as he peered over at his human partner once more. “Definitely on purpose. This amount, I could’ve missed it if I wasn’t looking for shit out of the ordinary.”

“... Which means we can find where they were attacked.”

For the first time in over twelve hours, Niles felt like he could breathe.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in their haste to follow the trail, they had remembered to call in to Dispatch (Gavin was admittedly impressed how well Niles was able to diffuse North’s judgment when she had tried to get them back to the station). Every so often, Gavin found himself just the slightest bit distracted by the light shudder he could see on his human partner, deepening his frown as the detective insisted on following the trail sooner rather than later.

So maybe he picked up his pace a little bit so they could get the hell out of the cold.

And maybe he asked Tina to bring Niles’ stupid trench coat (seriously, who wears a trench coat in 2038??) for whenever they found their actual crime scene (because they would find it, or he wouldn’t be the most advanced android in existence).

If you asked him if he had hacked the cameras on their path when he lost the thirium trail, he would have no idea what you were even talking about (and if he just happened to be staring at one a little bit too long because it had some stupidly old encryption he could only marvel at, no he wasn’t).

Gavin had to commend the prototype for his thinking, in a way. It had been a habit the pair of them had developed once they started working together more closely. Where the GV series had always been a more light-weight model, right from the start of its initial run in the late 2020s, the HK series was more bulk and weighty. Hank had been designed for investigative work and hand-to-hand combat, where Gavin had been designed almost exclusively for pursuit of a target. Not that he hadn’t seen the HK800 ever parkour (“I’m still an android, for chrissake!”), but it was a rare thing usually born of necessity given the weight of his model.

It was a system developed between the pair of them as Gavin had a tendency to run off faster than either humans or android could keep up with him. Gavin would create the smallest cut in one of his fingers, preventing his self-healing from closing it up until it was no longer needed, and the thirium smudges did the rest. Every jump, grab, and vault led the way for the only android that could actually follow him.

It made sure they had each other’s back.

Now it was going to make sure Gavin hunted down this fuckwad with a death wish.

The trail led to the back of some art gallery and coffee shop he wasn’t going to remember later. Cross-checking what he could of Hank’s corrupted memory footage confirmed the location itself even with the speck of HK800 thirium on the entranceway. 

“Only one camera here,” Gavin muttered as he spotted the lone dome hovering over the gallery’s backdoor, staring up at it with hands tucked into his pockets. He furrowed his brows as he tapped in, observed what view he could.

Yeah. This would have caught something. But the footage wasn’t saved on the damn camera.

There wasn’t anything particularly impressive about it. It was an alley, a dead-end at that, leading into a building that had nothing to do with any of this. There was a trash dumpster near-ish to the back door, some abandoned pallets leaning up against it. There was a lone, stiff folding chair leaned up near the back of the coffee shop. Some evidence of homeless that slept in the area, and a whole lot of Hank’s thirium all over the damn place.

What had Connor been thinking, to come down here? He hadn’t become the youngest lieutenant in DPD history by being stupid, and coming down here so far seemed to be pretty fucking stupid.

“The Captain is sending CSI and a car for us over here,” Niles said once he’d pocketed his phone. Gavin’s brows furrowed as he caught another shudder from his human.

“We’ll have to ask nicely if we can access the camera.” The android scrubbed a hand through his hair before he scanned around once more while Niles slipped a pair of disposable gloves on.

“And if they don't let us, we’ll need a warrant.”

“They’ll expedite it. That’s how it works, right, when one of your own go missing?”

Gavin peered back at Niles when he didn’t get an answer right away, brows furrowing deeper as he caught another shudder.

He heaved out an annoyed sigh as he pushed away from the mysterious bundles of cloth and pallet collection, ripped off his own hoodie, and shoved it over Niles’ head. A small surge of satisfaction washed over him at the detective’s momentary floundering in getting the fabric off of his head.

“I’m getting cold just looking at you,” the android said bluntly as he wandered back to his search.

“... You do realize your clothes are too—”

“—too small, yeah, you’ve only mentioned it every fucking time, but it’s warm enough until Tina gets here with your damn coat!” Gavin shoved some of the rags aside. “Should’ve fucking gone back for your coat if you were gonna freeze your ass off like this.” He paused as he caught sight of something white hiding among the trash. Hold on a minute.

“It would have delayed our search.”

“Not by that much!”

Gavin grumbled. The pallets were stuck together by god knows what means, which meant one thing and one thing only.

“When you’re done there, I believe I may have found the weapon that attacked Hank.”

“Probably did. I got something here, too.”

He stood and, with a swift kick, shattered them so he could pick them apart, and sure enough, what he saw made his lip curl up into a grin.

It was easy enough to pull them further apart to reveal the lone, if damaged, android arm hiding in the bundle of pallet pieces and old cloth. It was an easy enough scan of the serial number, matching it to Hank’s own with no small sense of relief on his own part. The connection ports would absolutely need some repair and TLC to get them functional again, based on his diagnostic scan, but this was workable.

So much more workable than trying to find a compatible HK800 part in a dumpster.

“Hey, Nines!”

He grinned over at the detective speaking to their Captain, lifting the lone limb and using it to give a small wave, complete with wiggling fingers. Hey, he could still interface with it! Nice!

And the deadpan from Niles and the borderline-horrified look from North was so worth it.

“If we’re getting kicked outta here, why don't we go give Logan a hand?”

—

For the second time that day, they found themselves back at the Haven.

At least it still wasn’t because Gavin had broken something again. Or needed thirium. Or another diagnostic. Or any other myriad of reasons he was sure one of the brothers could come up with.

It had taken a remarkably long time to convince CSI to just let them take the arm with them to the repair center. They had wanted to document where it had been found as part of the crime scene, and somehow, everyone and their mother wanted a full reconstruction on what may have happened in the alley.

The artist gallery and coffee shop had both been a bust. The gallery, run by an old man named Carl (who Gavin wasn’t convinced wasn’t an android just by sheer appearance and how quickly he’d picked things up, but how many androids ran around in wheelchairs?), had lost access to their lone camera weeks ago and hadn’t had a chance to repair it just yet. Carl had let them know he would check with the owner and the overnight cleaners if anyone had heard anything.

After that, North has banished Niles from the crime scene. And Gavin didn’t feel like sticking around once the reconstruction had been complete.

Plus he wanted to see if Hank was awake.

(He didn’t care for the HK, really! It was just annoying to be the only one looking over these idiot brothers!)

“Keep that steady right there, Simon… “

“Alright.”

Peering into Logan’s lab, he and his assistant seemed to be hard at work on… something. Something inside of Hank’s chassis, by the looks of it.

Fucking hell.

The other android was looking remarkably better than he had been a few hours ago. His facial and skull plates had been fixed completely, allowing his skin and hair projections to function properly. One of them must have tied his hair back to its usual half-up style. The rest of him, however, remained bare from the neck down, white plastimetal scuffed and, aside from the biocomponent they were working on, all glowing blue bits and wires.

Both technicians looked to be hard focused, neither of them responding to either Gavin or Niles as they stepped inside quietly. It was nice to see Simon in there, if he was honest: there had been a small part of him worried for Logan as much as he was for Niles, but he didn’t have the friendship level required to really be nagging the technician about his own health (he was every bit the fiery twin, and that was an awful clash with Gavin’s own heat). Simon, on the other hand, with his soft blue eyes and kind smile could do what no one else could, in ways that, as far as Gavin was concerned, broke some kind of law of reality.

(But fuck it, that meant one less Anderson to worry about)

“I don't know what’s more surprising,” Logan remarked absently, the sharp hiss of one of many tools sounding throughout the lab. “That his shit is repairable, or that we found any of these parts so quickly.”

“Both?” Simon offered, keeping his hands steady on the wires he was holding out of the way. Kind blue eyes, however, were ever-focused on his boss rather than the work they were doing.

Both of them had their backs to the entrance.

Gavin idly tapped the arm he was holding against his shoulder before using it to knock, loudly, against the door they walked through.

Predictably, both technicians jumped near out of their skin and spun to face them, with confusion and relief present in equal parts on their expressions. The GV just flashed a grin, using the HK arm to wave again.

“Is that… ?” Logan started before finally approaching.

“Hank’s arm,” Gavin finished, going as far as to wiggle the fingers again through the interface. “It works just fine, too. Connections might be busted, though.”

“Fuck, who cares. This is better than nothing!”

The breathy little laugh Logan made as he plucked the limb out of Gavin’s arms was worth it, he concluded. That left him and Niles to find a seat around the place.

“Kicked outta the crime scene?”

“Unfortunately,” Niles bit out, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the back of his chair. When they had left the station to follow the trail, he must have sent a message to his brother, Gavin guessed. “We found the weapon they used on Hank, and we have a suspect.”

“So progress.” Logan sighed as he set Hank’s arm aside for now. “We’re almost done here. I just finished repairing his regulator. His processor passed all the tests and I’m not too worried about it. He’ll… still be Hank when he wakes up… ”

”We’re not sure about his memory chip, though,” Simon finished with a soft grimace. He helped Logan set the unconscious android’s chestplate where it needed to go, checking the seams lined up and nothing was out of alignment. “We were able to transfer his older ones to a new chip but anything from right before, during, and after the attack couldn’t be repaired.”

”So he might wake up swinging.”

Gavin grimaced: so much for getting comfortable. He pushed right off from his seat beside Niles to wander back to the table. “What d’you need?”

Logan flashed a grateful grin. “Just be ready, just in case. I’ve got restraints on, but… well, they weren’t exactly designed with an HK800 in mind.”

The GV android perked up. ”So I get a free pass to kick Hank’s ass again?”

”Please don't break him when we just fixed him back up,” Simon winced, biting on his lower lip. Gavin immediately scowled.

No fun allowed.

”Fine, whatever.”

Once they had Hank dressed properly and the restraints in place, Gavin found himself placed face-to-face with the HK800 after ordering the humans back (because like hell was he going to risk three tired meatbags’ safety). Arms folded, staring up at Hank still attached to the repair station through the port on his neck, his lone wrist held by those ominous fucking claws and kept off the ground by a good inch or two.

Just looking at it made Gavin’s synthetic skin crawl.

He’d hated every second of having to be on the damn thing himself.

Fuck, this was weird. It made him feel things he didn’t want to feel, deviant or not. Hank was always the sturdy force among the group, the one always there to prop them up when they got knocked down. He was the protector, the guardian, the endearing old man that just wanted to see them all succeed. For all the abrasive gruffness the android had developed, both pre- and post-deviancy, the level of care he had for all of them was just so…

It was weird. Finally face-to-face with Hank like this, he was more than sure that he never wanted to experience this again.

RA9, just yesterday, they were arguing about the damn Detroit Gears game.

”C’mon, old man,” he muttered, reaching forward with two skinless hands with a level of gentle care that he would be denying until the end of time. “You’ve got three sons that need you right about now.”

Four, really, but like hell he was going to admit to that out loud.

”Ain’t no way in hell I can keep them together without you.”

It was a simple interface, diving into surface-level coding to activate the old android. Grey eyes stayed focused on Hank’s face, his LED, watching the thing whirl to life with blue light first, then yellow and staying there for an annoyingly long 12.3 seconds. Gavin bit his lip as cycling turned into a gentle pulse, as facial features started to come to life and blue eyes started to flutter open.

Fuck, they were cloudy. He hadn’t checked if his optical units had been damaged.

(In hindsight, it hadn’t been the primary concern)

”Con… ?”

Another 5.8 seconds before that LED showed signs of red, and the GV held his breath as Hank’s eyes started searching, blinking rapidly, looking around with increasing fear.

”Hank, you with me?” Gavin asked, trying to meet the other android’s gaze.

There was more red in that LED, the only warning before Gavin’s preconstruction kicked in, predictions flying across his HUD as Hank’s stress skyrocketed straight to 83%. He leapt back on instinct as the HK800 tried to jerk forward suddenly, artificial breathing ramping up as his stress began to overheat.

”Connor, where the fuck’s Connor—!“

The machine restraining the HK800 creaked ominously, dangerously, and Gavin waved the three humans in the back to stay back, idiots, as he took a cautious step forward, only to leap another two steps back as Hank gave another sharp tug. There was something to be said about the level of strength Hank had just missing an arm.

Shit, shit, shit, yeah, this was about what he expected.

“What the fuck did you do to him!”

Another ominous creak, a spark and crack of metal. This thing really wasn’t designed for an HK800 on the verge of a panic attack. He should’ve tried to just keep an interface — maybe he could’ve tried to exude calmness (yeah fucking right) to help, maybe he could’ve banished whatever chaotic thoughts were in Hank’s head right now.

Too late for regrets.

“Hank, get the fuck outta your head and listen to me!” he spoke again, raising his voice beyond the creaking metal and rapid whirring of Hank’s biocomponents. Fucking hell, this would help a whole lot more if Hank could just see but no, why would it be that easy. “It’s Gavin, you’re not back there anymore!”

That seemed to do the trick, at least in part. The HK’s stress ticked down just a few percentage points, but it was nowhere near where Gavin wanted it to be.

”Gavin… ?” 

“Right here,” he confirmed in response, lips curling back into a lopsided grin as relief flooded his biocomponents. “Wish we had better news, but you were found alone. Connor got taken by whoever the fuck had it out for you two.”

Hank let out a stuttered breath, relaxing some in the machine’s hold. Gavin had to commend him a little: he doubted he’d be as calm in the same position. “Fuck.”

”My thoughts exactly.”

”How long?”

”Fifteen hours now.”

”You checked my memory?”

”Yeah. Tried, anyway: that attack corrupted it to hell. Fried most of your components.”

”Explains the lack of sight.” Hank forced out a weary chuckle. “And why I feel like a fuckin’ ragdoll.” He gave a weak tug on the machine at his wrist. “Let me down and get me up to speed. I need to find my partner.” A pause as he lifted and lightly waved the lone stump he still had of his missing arm. “Ah, hell… “

”Oh, don't worry. We’ll give you a hand,” Gavin perked up, cackling at the collective group of groans from the back of the room.

Chapter Text

There was no concept of time for him the third time he woke up.

He was sitting in a chair this time, bound so tightly against the back that it made it just that much more difficult to breathe. Chains, still. A watery breath rattled through his chest as he tried to lift his head, hissing as pain stabbed through his side, his head — everything. His arms were no longer behind his back, but they weren’t easily usable: tied to the chair, if he had to guess? His wrists felt recently chafed, the slickness of thick warmth enough to make his skin crawl.

He flinched as a burst of light flashed in his eyes, squeezed them shut with a whine as he tried to do something, anything, to adjust his posture. It was a hard chair against his weakened body.

Even with the damp, mustiness in the air, his throat was parched, his lips dry.

He cracked his eyes open as he heard his captor’s voice saying… something, to someone, somewhere. Multiple light sources were there, blinding him, creating a blurry, shadowy blob of his captor in front of him.

Stay awake, he told himself. His fingers tapped against the chair arm once, twice. Pause. More taps. Another pause.

Stay awake.

—

-----------------------------------
LOCATION: Detroit Central Police Station
REMAINING TIME: 29:58:41
------------------------------------

“Delivery for Detective Anderson?”

His attention was torn away from his third cup of coffee at the call of his title.

There had been plenty of rest thanks to Logan and North’s earlier plan. He’d let himself have a moment of feeling. Gavin was scouring through all the footage they had collected throughout the day with North. Hank was up and running and currently talking to North about what had happened so they could piece together his corrupted memory with the various footage they had found. By sheer virtue of being far more stubborn than his Captain, Niles found himself able to continue working on finding his brother.

A package at nearly five o’clock in the evening, however, was nearly unheard of, but not impossible if the case it was for was something urgent.

Niles furrowed his brows at the PM700 android standing at the entrance to the bullpen. A police android conducting a delivery might mean something from another station. Did he have any overlapping cases?

There was some guilt: he had been so focused on Connor, on finding his brother, doing anything and everything he could get away with, that he’d avoided the rest of his cases.

This wasn’t like him. He had better discipline than this, should have had better discipline than this.

What would Connor say if he saw him like this? 

… Nothing. He would have wrapped him up in one of his absurdly large blankets and forced a cup of hot tea into his hand.

“Over here,” the detective spoke up, setting down his mug in favour of accepting the box handed to him. Another case to focus on was something he could — no, would work with. Other cases needed to be worked on. If he was the only detective not allowed to work on Connor’s disappearance, then he would make himself useful elsewhere until his Captain told him otherwise. “What’s your name?”

”Angela,” the android responded with a smile. A bit robotic, still, but perhaps she was still coming into her deviancy. “May I have your authorization code?” An easy thing to rattle off for her. Niles didn’t see an LED, so it was difficult to tell when her processing started and when it stopped. “Thank you, Detective.”

”Of course. And thank you for your work as well.”

And then the world jerked suddenly, any semblance of control he’d had gone, as his vision filled with a burst of sapphire blue and a deafening BANG!

The world submerged underwater, vision a swirl of colours and bodies all around him. He saw other officers responding quickly, felt himself get dragged back and away from Angela and where she lay crumpled—

“—t hi——— ay!”

“———ng!”

Someone was shouting something, someone was moving him, taking the box that Angela had given him away from his hands—

“—ey ——on—!”

Angela that had been standing before him not even seconds ago with a smile on her face. Angela who was probably a newly deviated android. Angela that had a gun still in her hand and an ugly, hideous hole through her jaw and skull and an obscene amount of wires and thirium.

What should he have done? What had caused all of this? Could he have prevented it? Surely he could have, he just had to think about who, what, where, and why.

Who was she?

What led her here?

Where had she really come from?

Why was this happening?

Why? 

Why, why, whywhywhywhywhywhy—

“—ines, Nines! Look at me!”

Cold, plastic hands cupped his jaw and he flinched sharply.

Grey eyes met his own, unwavering in their strength, a flicker of blue swirling in his irises.

“C’mon, you gotta breathe, Nines.”

Breathe? His chest hurt and he couldn’t get the lump out of his throat. Breathing was the last thing he wanted to do, felt like the very thing that would shatter him into a thousand pieces and scatter him into the wind.

“Just focus on me, alright?” Those same hands on his jaw smoothed up, one at the back of his head, the other lowering down, down to his collar. “It’s just me and you, meatbag and android, Gavin and Nines.”

Gavin. Gavin?

Yes, Gavin. His obstinate partner, the android hidden in the depths of Cyberlife Tower.

Gavin was in front of him making exaggerated breaths that an android surely didn’t need to make. In for five seconds, hold for five more, and release for five. Rinse and repeat, his brows pinching together further and further.

God, his chest hurt. His legs felt weak and he was tired, so very tired, of feeling so weak and helpless.

“No, nope, eyes on me,” the GV broke through again, fighting through the haze threatening to pull Niles back under. “C’mon, you don't wanna breathe right, then you talk to me. Five things you can see right here.”

Five things. Gavin, for one. The singular blemish across his nose, a scar from one of the Cyberlife Experiments he’d endured. The android’s hand that had moved from his collar grip one of his own. A metal chair behind Gavin. A trash can in the corner.

“Fuck yeah,” the android cheered quietly, lips curling into a weak grin. Niles’ voice must have been steadier than he’d felt it escape his lips. “Easy does it. Knew your smart-ass detective brain could spot things with no trouble.” He squeezed at Niles’ hand. “Four you can touch.”

Gavin’s hand combing through the back of his hair. There was ground beneath his feet. He was leaning against something with a sharp corner — a desk, maybe? And if he slid his hand just so, the feel of Gavin’s hand turned into something smoother, slightly softer, slightly warmer above his wrist: his synthskin.

“Three things you hear.”

Gavin. The faint pounding of his heart, now slowing down in his chest with each shuddered breath he took.

“Two things you smell.”

This office. The almost-clinical scent of Gavin in front of him mixed with a hint of tobacco from when Niles had gone for a smoke break.

“And I’m sure you can still taste your shit-ass coffee on your breath, yeah?”

It earned a choked wheeze of a laugh as Niles forced his breath to steady. Yes. Yes, he could, and it was awful.

Everything about this day had been awful.

His missing brother, his lack of functioning, North’s orders off the one case that mattered the most, Hank’s corrupted memories.

One breath became two became choking, gasping sobs. Eyes burned and tears threatened to fall as he wrapped his arm around his partner, squeezing the android that had wrapped around him in kind for all he was worth.

“I gotcha,” Gavin soothed, threading his fingers through the back of Niles’ hair. “Shit, Nines, the day you’ve had? No one’s gonna judge you for falling apart.”

“I can’t,” he hissed, his grip on his partner tightening impossibly so. “If… If I do, then Connor will—“

“Hey, nope, uh-uh.” And Gavin was pulling away again, hands back on his jaw as he yanked them together, pressed their foreheads and so all he could see was Gavin. “You’re not responsible for any of this. You’re sure as shit not the only one who can find him.” He had his hands on each of his cheeks, the coolness of his artificial breathing tickling his face. “Hell, how many times has North told you to back off? You’ve been running non-stop for almost twenty-four fucking hours now.”

“I need to—“ Niles squeezed his eyes shut as even more tears threatened to fall.

“You just watched someone blow out their brains in front of you. You don't need do a fucking thing.” Niles forced his eyes open again, staring back into Gavin’s grey. “We will find him.” A repeat, an echo, an assurance. Determination in his partner’s eyes. “We’ve got leads. We’ve got ideas. And now, we apparently have a mystery box and a fresh body. He isn’t dead yet, and I’m not gonna fuckin’ stop until that prissy fucker is back home to nag us both again about how we sit in chairs.”

A choked half-laugh, half-sob again. Gavin really was something else entirely.

He couldn’t ask for a better partner.

He swallowed thickly as breathing became easier, as Gavin seemed to determine for himself how best to wipe away all the thirium over Niles’ skin. He tried not to shudder when realization entered the fray, ran a hand through his air in some attempt to comb it back into place.

He prided himself in only flinching as the door to the office burst open, swallowing his heart back into his throat when Logan appeared and was already marching forward. Sweet, abrasive, clumsy Logan who threw his arms around the younger brother, who was drawn in and squeezed in kind like their lives and their sanity depended on it.

It certainly felt like they currently did 

“Shit, Niles,” Logan hissed, digging his fingers into Niles’ ruined top. “Shit.”

“I’m okay.”

“You weren’t earlier.”

“I’m okay now,” he corrected with the barest amount of sass he could muster, relaxing his hold as his older brother snorted in amusement. Face to face with Logan, with Gavin, even with Hank as the HK made his late appearance.

“Thank fuck for that.” It lacked the usual tease, the usual sass. Logan forced out a breath as he ruffled up his curly hair. “Today’s been ass. The station’s a crime scene, North’s handling it, and Simon’ll handle the android for tonight with forensics. We—“ And he gestured around the group of them. “—are going home, getting drunk or high or whatever we need to, grabbing Connor’s biggest fucking blanket, and going the fuck to whatever amount of sleep or stasis we can manage. And we’re letting Sumo in the bed.”

Chapter Text

”You sure you’re good, Hank?”

”I’ve got enough sensors and shit around to help me figure out where I’m going.”

”… so when you walked into that wall… “

”I didn’t do shit!”

Gavin cackled some at the scowl on his fellow android’s face, simply lifting his glass of thirium and swirling the liquid inside. “Right, right. You definitely didn’t walk straight into a wall.”

Hank grumped and he huffed, but not even damaged optical units could prevent him from flipping Gavin off. “I’m back not even a day, and you’re already giving me hell for it.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Gavin shrugged, straightening up as his grey eyes traveled to the living room from where he stood in the kitchen.

Once Sumo had been cared for (and stopped from bowling Hank over, a hilarious if somewhat concerning sight), Logan had snatched up the bottle of Black Lamb Whiskey stashed in the kitchen pantry and set to work ensuring neither he nor Niles were anything less than wasted by the time dinner rolled around. Warnings that it was still a weeknight went ignored, and once the alcohol had made thorough work of the technician’s system, the androids found themselves having to make sure Logan didn’t break something — either furniture-wise or his own bones.

Niles had been a bit harder to convince. He wasn’t a heavy drinker in the first place, and his habit of smoking hadn’t really kicked in hard until Connor went missing. A drunk Logan, however, was a convincing Logan — and a bit of a shitlord, if Gavin had anything to describe him as. Loud, belligerent, and the literal opposite of his missing twin, yet just as if not more stressed even with his blood alcohol reaching a concerning 0.187 percent. At some point, he’d even started to bark right back at Sumo before engaging in a little wrestling match with the Saint Bernard. Something about the ridiculous scenario had gotten Niles to finally fucking relax, even if he wasn’t even close to being as rambunctious as his older brother (but absolutely more mischievous, his sacrificed hoodie would agree from its current home in the washing machine).

Hank, with the apparent patience of a saint, had made a valiant effort to try and keep both humans at least hydrated with water.

Gavin just saved pictures of the whole night. Logan with his lab coat as a cape was going to become the latest addition to Connor’s photo wall if he could get away with it.

Now both of them were rightfully passed the fuck out on the couch. Niles was slumped against the back of the couch, head drooped and hair wrecked from the headlock Logan had gotten him in earlier, and breathing evenly as he slept. Logan, chaotic even in his sleep, was draped across his younger brother’s lap with one arm over the side of the couch, snoring away with all long limbs taking up as much space as humanly possible.

The soft click and jingle of metal tags had both androids tipping their gaze down to Sumo, who had escaped the worst of the festivities in favour of hiding out under the table.

”Too much even for you to handle, huh, old boy?” Hank chuckled, kneeling down and holding out his free hand to search blindly for the dog. Sumo gave a deep huff, inching forward until his head bopped against Hank’s hand. “Good dog.” Another happy boof was his response once Sumo got some well-earned scritches behind the ears.

”Practically bomb proof, isn’t he,” Gavin snorted softly as he watched the exchange, stepping around when it looked like Hank needed the help getting back up. ”They give you an estimate on when the rest of you would be fixed?”

“Next week at the earliest.” The HK800 grimaced, wrinkling his nose some in disdain at the idea. Where his left arm was missing was just limp fabric just under the elbow, and he gripped at his upper arm and held it close against his body. “I’ve got proximity alerts and infrared sensors that still work. So I’ve got a general idea where everyone is.”

”North’s still keeping you outta the field, though, I take it?”

”Until our wasted doc over there gives me the all-clear.”

Gavin swirled the thirium in his mug again as he followed Hank’s jab towards the sleeping brothers. His lips curled back into a wry sort of grin, even if it didn’t last very long. “He worked all day yesterday to fix you up, y’know.”

”I know.” Hank heaved out a sigh, plopping down in one of the chairs nearby. “Simon said as much.” He tapped at his knee, sky-blue eyes on their two humans snoozing away. “I thought I’d died for good, honestly. I was ready for that to be the case.” His grip on his stump of an arm tightened, unseeing eyes downcast even as Sumo came up to him with a soft whine. His lips twitched up just slightly so.

But Gavin could see the weight of guilt sinking the other android’s shoulders. He pressed his glass to his lips in lieu of thinking of something to say, because what could he in this situation? He didn’t need his programming or Hank’s stress levels to know the guy felt responsible for what had happened. Connor has been his partner since his activation. They had worked together even before the revolution, built an unshakeable bond that only came with risking your lives for one another time and time again.

Hell, Gavin was sure he would have felt the same way in his shoes.

”Do you know why Connor took you two down that alley?” He started quietly, cautiously. Last thing he wanted was to trigger either of them into self-destruction. “‘Cause from what we saw of it, I mean… it’s a dead end through and through. The camera for the gallery didn’t even work when you two got hit, and we might not even get anything outta their night workers.”

Hank lifted his sightless gaze towards Gavin before turning it away again. It was hard to tell what he was thinking: even with his LED spinning a processing yellow, and his still-stiff posture (honestly, Gavin blamed Connor for it: guy practically walked around like he had a stick up his ass), there were times he just didn’t know what was going on with the other. His Cyberlife uniform had been ditched for more easy-going suits of dark jeans, black work boots, and some button-up shirt of either a normal or cursed design (because absolutely no one should be caught dead in some of the shirts he saw Hank wear, fuck).

Hank really was designed with the perfect amount of social integration in mind.

”He wanted to confront the guy,” Hank spoke up, and Gavin lifted his gaze back to his fellow android. “And we did. Asked why he was following, what he wanted. After that, it’s… “ He groaned quietly, putting his face in his good hand. “… it’s fucked up. You saw the memory for yourself.”

”Yeah… “ The GV900 leaned against the back of Hank’s chair, staring away from the living room, out towards the rest of the house as he let his processors turn and churn over the data they had so far. “Shit ton of noise in it, for the most part, but I could kinda hear you two. We got enough of a glimpse of the guy to get a BOLO out when we checked the station cams, too. He’d been there more than a few times.”

“Fuckin’ android,” Hank spat out, earning a snort of amusement from Gavin.

”I’ve sure never seen one like him before. Did he come up in your database?”

”No. I’m guessing he didn’t come up in yours either?” Hank sighed when Gavin shook his head. “Great. So a rogue android, unknown model, decided to pick a fight with me and Connor, and we ain’t got a clue to go off of. Some other one comes up to Niles, gives him a box, and blows out her brains.” He leaned back in his chair, and Gavin felt the crown of Hank’s head press into his back. “We’re missing the bigger picture here. If this was just some random killer going with their M.O., Connor’s too high risk of a target.”

“Someone with a grudge, you think?”

“Doesn’t make sense for an android. Connor’s practically touted as a fucking saint among us.”

“Humans have bad apples, too, though,” Gavin pointed out. “We see them all the time.”

“You’re not wrong, but… nah. Still doesn’t quite fit.” Hank made a noncommittal noise, staring blankly at the ceiling above them. “You get to check the box yet?”

”Ha! No.” He waved over towards the sleeping humans. “That’ll be later tonight. I’ve been busy keeping these fuckers from losing their damn minds since someone was out of commission.”

He regretted the words as soon as they escaped, cringing at himself as the silence between them stretched far too long for his comfort. Gavin clicked his tongue, shoved his hands in his pockets as he pushed away from the chair and Hank. Time to make himself busy, as he dug through Connor’s Mysterious Chest of Blankets to find a suitable one. There was one in particular that they all seemed to fight over, because it was perfect, and it would be perfect for the dumbass humans who were going to feel like hell tomorrow.

That silence from Hank, though, was twisting up his biocomponents and wires, and he hated it. Fuck. Fuck.

”You know your stress hasn’t gone down from 35% since I woke back up?”

“Don’t you fucking analyze me, 800,” Gavin hissed out, yanking the prized blanket out of its fold — a large, king-sized thing with no small amount of dog prints all over it. “I’m fine.”

Hank stayed quiet as Gavin worked to unfold the blanket, forced to arrange the humans first so that they were both lying down (Niles’ back would thank him later, he was sure) before covering them up with the big, soft, plush thing. Tuck them in, brush their hair out of their faces… 

He could still feel Hank’s sightless gaze on him.

Somehow the sightlessness actually made it worse.

Gavin wanted to squirm right out of his synthskin.

“I’m fucking fine, Hank.” He spun on his heel to march up to the other android, mindful of Sumo at Hank’s feet. “You and I both know we function fine up to 80% with no issues to our processors. Thirty-five is nothing to us.”

”That doesn’t mean it’s good,” Hank pointed out, and Gavin really, really hated that fucking frown that stayed fixed on the other android’s brows.

His chest tightened all over again. Fuck.

He spun right back around, ignoring the other as he marched his lightweight ass right on out into the backyard.

Fuck, it was cold without his hoodie, but like hell  he was going back inside when Hank-the-most-advanced-prototype was going to analyze him. He could handle a little Detroit winter chill for a little bit. It was Fine with a capital Fuck you, Hank. Gavin rubbed his hands up and down his arms the way he’d seen humans do. It did fuck all to generate any actual heat, but hey, his overworking processors seemed to be doing just fine there.

“Hey.”

Gavin groaned at the voice as he let his head drop back. Squeezed his eyes shut. Counted backwards from five to keep his growing annoyance from bubbling into a fiery rage. Turned a reluctant gaze over to Hank as the guy joined him in the backyard.

”In case it wasn’t fucking clear, I’m done talking.” Maybe making his stance crystal clear would help. “I’m sorry for putting my foot in my mouth, now leave me the fuck alone.”

”Yeah, well, I’m not done talking.” Hank stared at him with that focused gaze of his. Fuck, he didn’t even have that weird glitch in his eyes and they were unnerving enough as it was thanks to the colour of them.

”Your weird dad-mode isn’t gonna work on me,” Gavin bit out, tearing his gaze away from the other android. “I’m not one of the Lost Kids club.”

”What do you— … never mind.” The sound of footsteps in the snow approached, and he had to wonder if he could get away with shoving Hank and just… fucking running. “Gavin, c’mon. If they’ve been running themselves ragged, and you’ve been cleaning up after them… “

He didn’t want this conversation. He didn’t do this type of conversation.

But fuck, he couldn’t just up and leave Niles… 

“Yeah, it’s a little fucking stressful, so sue me.” He spun on his heel again, jabbing a finger into Hank’s chest. He didn’t even sway, kept his ground annoyingly well. “Happy? That what you wanna hear?”

Hank’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a gaping fish, clearly searching for words, before he let out a sigh. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “… Not really. But you don't have to do it all yourself now, y’hear? I’m not so broken that I can’t at least work a little.”

”News flash, Hank: you’re pretty broken. Fuck, if you weren’t an HK800, your processor would’ve been fried, and then what? You were lucky you got away with just a handful of damaged parts!”

”But I’m not useless,” Hank insisted, gripping at Gavin’s arm and fuck, his aim was criminally good even with busted eyes. “You can see yourself. I can’t watch your back in the field right now, you’re right — even if I fucking hate it. But I can give you that shoulder to lean on when those kids are driving you nuts.”

He bit down hard on his lip, tried (not very hard) to pry Hank’s hand off his arm, but… well.

He’d always had a stupid soft spot for the stupid android.

Gavin was too tired to keep up the walls for long anyway. His anger fizzled as quickly as it had come, chilled by the cold around them.

Maybe he really was more affected by all this than he thought.

He shoved aside the notification for his stress level aside because he did not need to know what it was, thank you very much.

”… I’ll lean on you when I need it,” he conceded, tugging his arm out of Hank’s grip.

”I can accept that.” And fuck, Gavin wanted to punch the guy when his lips curled into that knowing grin. Like Hank knew something he didn’t. Like he wasn’t the predecessor between them.

”Which I won’t need, for the record!”

”Uh-huh.”

He bristled as the HK800 was already turning back inside the house.

”I’m fucking serious!” Gavin shot back just as the other android shut the door behind him with a chuckle.

Chapter Text

It was remarkably easy to stay awake when someone else’s screams echoed through… wherever he was.

The shock of fear-induced adrenaline brought with it a moment of lucidity, enough to watch as his captor muffled those very same screams with a thick scrap of cloth.

He could see the fear in the other victim — recognized the dark blues and thin stripes of yellow of a police officer, one he didn’t know. One he likely never would, if they were here with him.

The screams didn’t last long — certainly not long enough for him to gather his own voice, to get Him to stop, to return the focus to Connor.

But the focus was returned to him all the same with a sick, rueful smile as He held up his prize drenched in crimson.

“You can only blame yourselves.”

—

------------------------------------
LOCATION: Detroit Central Police Station
REMAINING TIME: 22:35:02
------------------------------------

In the moment, the temptation to forget about the last twenty-four hours had been high. 

Now, as he waited for the station’s coffee machine to brew just one more cup of coffee to fight against the hangover threatening to squeeze his skull like a watermelon, he was realizing what a mistake it had been.

And of course Logan had been able to skip work because he was his own boss.

“Have you tried at least eating something?”

Niles scrubbed his hand down his face, squinting over at Gavin as the android leaned against the counter with him — and promptly shoving a piece of bread into his mouth before he could even get a word out.

…… It was kind of good, actually.

“... Why do you have a bread roll?” he asked once he’d gotten over the… well, shock of having it shoved, and swallowed the forced bite, staring at the thing in his hand. Not even stale, too, but looking around the break room, there was no way it had come from here.

“Simon got some from wherever he ordered dinner from, and he offered when I said you and Logan drank yourselves asleep.” Gavin just smirked at him as he reached across and Niles had to resist the inexplicable urge to punch him when the machine was turned off. “Anyway, before you drown yourself into a heart attack, I’m going down to check out that box with North. Collins is out talking to that art gallery and seeing if the coffee shop has any sort of cameras around that we didn’t see, so… feel up to being a witness?”

The tightening of his throat suggested that no, no he did not, but Niles would be lying if he said he didn’t want to at least know.

Especially since someone had died to give it to him. 

“I’ll manage.”

Because he would. He had to.

“Good. Grab some water and let's head down there.”

The way to the morgue was blessedly quiet this time around as Gavin led the way. Hardly unexpected, given it hadn’t yet reached 7 o’clock in the morning, and almost certainly welcome. Seeing Simon tap away at his tablet while he chattered had been expected, but less expected was how North was… laughing. And relaxed. Everything Niles had never seen in his time at the DPD. She was all stern and no-nonsense, all crossed arms and scowls with a dangerous smirk that promised no small amount of suffering later.

Connor was never going to believe him.

Alas, the moment needed to be broken. And so it was as Niles cleared his throat, earning the attention of both technician and Captain.

”Niles!” Simon pushed up from his seat, equal parts relief and concern spreading onto his features. “How are you feeling?”

”Fine.” It was the easy response but, judging by the way Simon’s brows furrowed in further concern, not the one that was wanted. Niles glanced up at North to see her familiar scowl in kind, and he bit back a sigh as he folded his arms. “… I’ve been better, but I’ll manage. I’m… sorry for worrying you both.”

”You have nothing to apologize for,” North replied, finally stepping forward as she crossed her arms. “I’ve been trying to get you to take it easy since this started, if you’ll remember.” She sighed as she pressed a hand to her temple, shaking her head. “But I’ve come to expect, at this point, that you Andersons are hardheaded to the point of your own self-destruction. So if I can’t stop you, I may as well do my job and at least supervise.” Her gaze slid over towards Gavin. “Especially since your particular partner has a tendency to encourage bad habits.”

“Hey! I did get him to eat something!” Gavin retorted, a look of mock offense on his face. “I’m doing just fine!”

North didn’t respond, instead gesturing for the pair and Simon to follow over towards the metal table in the room with a sheet covering Angela’s body entirely. Niles found his stomach unclenching just a little bit at that. “At any rate, Simon has already done the autopsy.”

”Yes!” Simon plucked up his tablet, tapping away once, twice, before handing it over to North. “So, this android, Angela. Nothing out of the ordinary with her model, she’s a PM700 through and through. Hank tested her thirium yesterday, and nothing was out of the ordinary there, either. It gets weird when you check her code, however: there’s no signs of deviancy anywhere in it.”

”What do you mean?” Niles inquired, taking the tablet next and lowering it for Gavin to see and interface as well. “Didn’t New Jericho ensure all androids were deviated?”

”Yes and no. They’ve allowed androids to choose whether or not they want to deviate. While they’re the minority, there are those that have refused and prefer to stay with their original programming.”

”Can’t see the appeal, but whatever floats their own boat,” Gavin remarked, opting to interface with the tablet. Niles gave up trying to read as the text flew past his eyes at that point, simply handing the tablet over to the android. “… You weren’t kidding. It isn’t anywhere in here.”

Simon nodded. “But she wasn’t a PM700 with any station nearby. We cross-checked all androids employed with the DPD, and she’s not in any records, active or inactive.”

”She might have been stolen, then,” Niles concluded, furrowing his brows. He glanced over to North. “We still have Cyberlife’s records, correct?”

”Correct. We can have Hank scan them later.”

”I can identify that whoever programmed her made it so she had to complete her tasks within a short timeframe,” Simon added. “No more than 30 minutes from her activation. Any completion of her tasks was going to result in her self-destruction.”

”Then the programmer had to be nearby,” North hissed. “We’re being watched. I’ll need to assign more officers to the station.”

”And I get to check the prize in the mystery box?” Gavin plucked it up from where it laid on the table, furrowing his brows. “Do we want to do this here with all of us? Or… ?”

”We’ve already confirmed there’s no explosives inside of it,” North assured, stepping over to Gavin’s side but lifting her gaze up to Niles. “There’s no doubt it’s meant to be for you, even without any markings on it. Given the fate of our delivery woman, however, I’m not convinced it’s something meant to be a kindness.”

”It’s probably from the killer, then.” There was no doubt about it, of that Niles was certain. He forced out a breath before nodding to Gavin, moving to the android’s other side.

”You sure you want to… ?” Gavin bit his lip when Niles nodded. “Alright. Three eye-witnesses to whatever the hell this is.”

For such a small, white box, it was absurdly threatening, Niles found himself thinking. Yet even the knowledge that it wasn’t something that could cause any immediate harm still had that god-awful knot tighten up in his stomach. And Gavin must have realized it himself as he shuffled just an inch or so closer, giving Niles just enough touch to keep him grounded in the here and now, away from the worst.

Except the worst, staring at them from inside the box, placed nice and neatly atop the packing paper, was a singular brown eye.

The humans recoiled in the same instant Gavin’s eyes glitched its android blue, and despite the sudden lack of strength in his legs, Niles knew the android was rapidly scanning to see, to confirm if it was—

”Fuck!” North shouted, hands going to her head, breathing deep. “Fuck!”

”I-It might not be his,” Simon tried to assure as he went to her side, gripping her arms. “Breathe a moment, North.”

“Who the hell else’s could it be?!”

”It’s not his,” Gavin spoke, cutting through the building tension, the rising panic, and Niles felt like he could breathe again. “It’s not Connor’s. It’s someone else’s.”

”So another victim, that’s definitely better!” North let Simon take her hands, let her head drop into his shoulder with a forced sigh. “Fuck. We need to know who it is.”

Niles wrapped a hand around Gavin’s arm to keep himself steady, cleared his throat to push down the rising bile that had threatened to take control. He kept his gaze on his partner, not the too-familiar shade of brown, not the box. “Can you tell… ?”

”… Yeah. Officer Terry Cooper of the 9th Precinct.” When Gavin hesitated, Niles gave his arm a small squeeze to continue. “He’d just graduated from the academy a couple months ago.”

He fought to keep his growing anxiety down, to relax. Don't think of the worst-case scenario, don't. “There’s more in the box.”

“How do you— Nines, slow down!” But not even the android could stop him as Niles slid on a pair of gloves resisting the shudder as he plucked the eye out of the box to set it down, pushed aside the packing paper.

“It’s the Gift Box Killer,” Niles stated, and no, he certainly didn’t slow down until he found what he knew was going to be there.

“The what now?” Gavin’s frown deepened into confusion before his LED cycled yellow, spinning rapidly, until his eyes widened slowly. “A fucking serial killer from ten years ago? The case files say they targeted rookie cops. Connor’s a Lieutenant.”

“He was a victim over ten years ago.” Niles felt his shoulders sag as he found what he was looking for, squeezing his eyes shut. “But he escaped.” He could see, practically, as Gavin found that bit of information. Breathe in, breathe out. He tugged out the memory chip buried within, lifting it up to North.

“Which means his M.O. changed,” the Captain replied, biting her lower lip. “I have to call the Feds on this. This is still their case.”

“They haven’t solved this case in ten years.” Niles tightened his grip on the memory chip.

“If we don't, it’s not just my job on the line, Detective.”

“If the M.O. has changed, that means the motive has also changed,” he insisted. “The box was delivered to me, using my title and last name. Our station is being watched. Hank may have been left for dead, but we found him. Following the Killer’s M.O. in the past, that should not have happened.” He swallowed past the lump building in his throat. “There is a chance Connor is still alive.”

He could only watch as North’s gaze, felt Gavin’s eyes burning into him, saw the tension in Simon’s form as he looked between the two of them.

”I am your second-best detective,” Niles pressed, and if his voice cracked, no one was willing to acknowledge it. “It breaks all of the rules, but you know I can and will solve this.” At any cost, he would be damned sure, and the look on his Captain’s face suggested she knew it as well.

North squeezed her eyes shut, pinched the bridge of her nose. Niles was sure he was holding his breath as he waited, and waited. With all the tension in his form, it was a wonder he didn’t find himself imploding on the spot.

But then she sighed. The kind of sigh that suggested she would absolutely—

”I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, but it was enough to send a wave of relief through him, even as her piercing gaze lifted back up to him. “This is off the record. Officially, this case is under my name until the Feds rip it out of my hands. I have to notify them: I can’t get around that, not for this case. But!” She held a finger up as he opened his mouth, the argument there, ready on the tip of his tongue. “That can wait until a little later in the day. It will take them at least another few hours to send someone after that, and we’ll have the assigned agent before the end of the day.” She took in a breath. “If you find something to keep it in our hands, then we keep it and I can get them to kick rocks.

Niles could work with that. He forced out a breath. “I can work with that.”

”North,” Simon spoke up, getting her attention with a soft tug on her sleeve. “Why don’t we talk to Markus? That was his gallery: he probably knows things that Carl might not.”

”… God, I don’t want to worry him with this, but you’re not wrong.” She huffed out a breath. “Alright. Give him a call and see if he’s got time for a lunch meeting.”

Chapter Text

“... Do you want to pretend at least to eat something?”

“I ate something earlier.”

“A piece of bread isn’t food.”

Gavin’s brows furrowed as his partner proceeded to ignore him in favour of reading through the case files they had been given. By some miracle, North had managed to convince the FBI to give access to the current information they had on the Gift Box Killer (he definitely did not overhear her arguing for jurisdiction with Connor’s kidnapping or her less-than-cordial remarks when the feds tried to deny it). It was a mountain of reports, a total of ten victims from multiple different precincts including two from Ann Arbor, one from Chatham, and three from Lansing.

That put five victims from Detroit itself, including Connor.

Seeing the victims lined up the way they were, spread out one of Niles’ monitors, really put into perspective.

Ten victims, and only one had ever escaped.

Gavin furrowed his brows as his gaze flitted to the memory chip flat on the desk. It wasn’t an android chip, and Simon had double checked Angela’s body to see if it had come from her. He’d double and triple checked against his own systems to make sure of it. Checked the cameras to see if they could spot the programmer — the killer — that had dropped Angela off at their doorstep, and had only seen that same, infuriating, unknown android that neither he nor Hank could identify.

This was starting to feel like a really sick, twisted joke.

“Okay.” The android looked up as Niles leaned back in his chair, forcing out some tension from his form with a heavy breath. “Let’s check that memory chip.”

“Are you sure?”

“... No.” The wry, forced smile that the human gave him felt like a sucker punch to the thirium pump. “Based on the case file, the Killer would provide… closure, of sorts, with these deliveries. A way of compensating for murdering the victims.”

“Sick fucking way of providing closure,” Gavin muttered, pulling his chair up beside Niles this time. “What I don't get is why you feel the need to torture yourself with this. Isn’t the point of having emotions to avoid the bad ones as much as possible?”

Niles offered a weak, half shrug in response as he leaned forward, tugging his computer closer and popping in the memory chip. “... It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.” Gavin gripped the computer, seizing control of it through an interface. “Because watching my partner drive himself insane sure isn’t how I want to be watching your back.”

The detective held those ice-blue eyes on him for a moment before turning them away, focusing on the pictures of the victims — no, Gavin realized, on the picture of Rookie Connor in his photo, dressed to the nines in his patrol uniform. The information on Connor’s graduation came up easily: graduated top of the academy in 2024 and was assigned to the Central Station ever since. He swiftly became a police detective by the age of twenty-two, and subsequently led and organized the Red Ice Task Force between 2027 and 2028. By 2031, they had conducted the largest drug bust in the city of Detroit. He was promoted to Lieutenant within that same year.

“He and Logan were eighteen when our parents were killed in a car accident.” Gavin brought his gaze back to Niles as he spoke. “Connor was the one to pick us all up and keep us in one piece. He gave up on college to become an officer of the law and provide for us once the life insurance ran out.” His gaze never left that photo of his brother — Gavin suspected Niles just… didn’t want to look away. He wouldn’t force that contact, instead pulling his hand away from the computer to relinquish control. “Logan worked as well where he could, but… he’s always had a much harder time handling stress. He preferred dealing with androids and technology over people.”

“Logan always seemed more like the social one of the two.” He had to admit, it caught him by surprise.

“He’s good at faking it,” the detective corrected. “But not for very long. Connor was always better at it.” His gaze grew somewhat distant, downcast, even as he took hold of his computer mouse to open up the memory chip and whatever files were on it. “He was always more… level-headed, at least before he was… almost killed.” Niles winced softly. “... It’s why Hank is so good for him. Connor won’t lean on either Logan or me, but he can lean on Hank. Even when I’m here, working with him and trying to look out for him… “

Ah.

No wonder, Gavin realized.

“You feel like you owe him,” the android concluded.

“We do owe him.” It almost sounded like a correction, if the ever-faint curl of Niles’ lips were anything to go by. “I… look up to him. Perhaps I always have. He’s always looked out for us when he could have let us all fend for ourselves. We were all going through a hard time, and he chose to be the anchor with a strength that’s unmatched. When he was captured the first time… we didn’t think we were going to get him back. And when we did, he struggled far more than he was willing to share.” He rubbed some at the opposing arm. “He will struggle again. This time, we’ll be the ones to keep him afloat again.”

The level of devotion the Andersons had to one another wasn’t a concept Gavin thought he would be able to understand, not completely. He didn’t entirely get along with Connor — hell, maybe oil and water would mix better than the two of them ever could. He didn’t hate the young lieutenant, of course, but he just didn’t jive very well with an Anderson that followed all the rules and mothered everyone in his close circle, android or human. And it was weird, quite frankly, to be on the receiving end.

Weird.

…

Weird but… admittedly endearing.

Gavin scrubbed a hand over his face, dismissed the notification of his stress levels because it wasn’t important, not right now. Not if his damnable partner could punish himself when his own family member was in the hands of a nutjob.

“... Anyway.” Niles let out a soft sigh, his gaze back on the computer screen. “It looks like there’s a video file on this chip.” He grimaced softly. “Shall we?”

“If you’re sure.” The android leaned forward, met his meatbag’s eyes. “If you need to cut it, though… you cut it, yeah? There’s no shame if you can’t handle it.”

“I can handle it.”

Gavin offered his hand nonetheless, relaxing just a smidge when Niles took it and eased up some tension.

It was remarkably difficult to just press a play button, particularly as the file opened to a black screen. The GV android found himself holding his breath right along with Niles as they waited for the video to start. Five seconds in, and the lights in the scene snapped on, a cascade of fluorescent white shining down on—

“He is alive,” Niles breathed, squeezing at Gavin’s hand.

Front and center on screen was Connor chained and bound to a chair. Gone was his blazer, and his white button-up shirt had seen better days. There was no small amount of mud and tears through his jeans, his scuffed shoes, and his hair was a mess of half-curls hanging limply as his usually coiffed hair had long-since given up its sense of style.

“Looks like shit, though.” Gavin was already scanning, trying to cross-reference what symptoms he could see, time the lieutenant’s breath. The way he was slouched in his chair didn’t speak well of his strength, nor did the glaze in his eyes. He wasn’t lucid when this was taken. “He’s not breathing right, either. Way too shallow.”

“He’s injured.”

“And drugged. His pulse looks weak.”

Niles’ jaw tightened but he stayed quiet as footsteps echoed in the scene. Another five seconds in and they found themselves face-to-face with an AP700 android, at least in appearance. Male model with brown hair and blue eyes. He wore that trademark, friendly smile that had once gotten Cyberlife millions in sales.

“This guy was reported dead back in January,” Gavin murmured, cupping his chin in his free hand as he watched the video play. Another android being used against their will.

”Fool was I, to think it made clear, my dreaded plan for all to hear,” the android on the screen spoke, stepping away from the camera with an easy shrug. He held a knife in his right hand that he twirled, and Gavin really, really hoped he wasn’t going to be using it. Let it just be for show.

Wishful thinking, he told himself. It had probably been used to deliver their earlier ‘prize.’

“But the ignorant dogs that run this town left you all upon fallow ground. One last clue I do deliver - now listen up and harken quicker.”

“We’re running out of time,” Niles hissed, but his gaze wasn’t focused on the android moving about on the screen. It was on Connor.

“Upon the trail forgotten yore, legal precedent of most modern lore.”

The android stepped forward then, as close as he could get his face into the camera, his sneer stretched inhumanly wide. “Present your results when next the sun sets, Detective Anderson. Or yours, I shall grant the gift of eternal darkness.”

The video ended there.

“Who the fuck speaks in riddles like that,” Gavin remarked with a wrinkle of his nose, but it didn’t take a supercomputer brain to process what it meant. Running out of time, and maybe patience.

Gavin had to do a double take when Niles hit the play button again, opened his mouth to argue… and then shut it with a tight jaw and a grumbled curse. This wasn’t just some torture he was putting himself through. This was the detective at work, analyzing the video and searching for whatever additional clues they could find. So he may as well put his own damn brain to work so Niles could stop watching.

Which was how they ended up watching the video again and again for the next twenty minutes. By then Gavin had started to recognize certain patterns: water echoing faintly in the background, the concrete wall behind Connor, the metal grating they seemed to be standing on. At one point the AP700 stepped forward close enough to catch a reflection in his eye of another person — the real killer, they concluded together, but there hadn’t been enough to go off of to analyze them.

Shit, these were all something and nothing at the same time.

“It’s almost funny that Con can’t stop moving his hands,” Gavin remarked quietly. Something, anything to break the thick tension between them and lower some of Niles’ stress levels. “Both of them tied to a chair, and he’s still fidgeting.”

“Fidgeting?” Niles questioned with a soft frown.

“Yeah.” The android connected easily to the machine wirelessly, his LED blipping yellow faintly as he rewound the footage and zoomed it in better onto Connor. “His fingers have been tapping against that chair the entire time—“

… Wait a minute.

His pattern recognition software kicked in and, if the widening of Niles’ eyes was anything to go by, his stupidly-smart-but-sleep-deprived partner had noticed it as well.

“It’s morse code.” Niles scrambled slightly, messing up his desk, searching for — one tablet, one stylus, quickly rewinding the footage.

“Fucking hell,” Gavin found himself laughing in disbelief. “No wonder he’s the youngest lieutenant in history. Drugged out of his fucking mind and he still thinks to send a fucking message of his own.”

“That’s my brother.” And he could practically hear the pride in Niles’ voice, however subtle it was, as he murmured the praise.

Chapter Text

The drug had run its course, he realized, but that didn’t make clarity come any easier. Maybe that was why he didn’t get another dose.

Heat and chills ran through his form in waves, clashing for dominance, centering around his injured side. Each breath felt like a knife digging through his ribs. It wouldn’t be long before that was the case, he was sure of it.

There was no time to humanize himself with his captor. Hell, it had barely worked before.

He tried to sit up, hissing softly as he aggravated his injury, testing the strength of his binds around his wrists.

Duct tape.

He could work with duct tape.

—

------------------------------------
LOCATION: Detroit Central Police Station
REMAINING TIME: 19:35:33
------------------------------------

Fool was I, to think it made clear.

They had taken over one of the briefing rooms, collecting what evidence they had on cases past and present. Past victims on one wall monitor, their respective stations under their names and pinned upon a map. Connor’s case had been the last of the spree in 2025 before their killer had fallen off the map entirely. The team that had found him had been unable to get a proper visual on their killer beyond a man in a dark green hoodie and mask. The choice had been to either capture the killer or leave one of their own for dead.

Niles had thanked whatever higher powers that had been watching over them that they’d chosen to save Connor.

My dreaded plan for all to hear.

”Did the FBI ever figure out what the end goal was?” Hank asked from where he sat, interfacing with his own tablet.

”No. They had theories, based on previous notes,” Niles explained, pulling up each note from each victim, tapping the screen to place each where it belonged. “But they were never able to find something concrete. Suspected motives and cases that they thought might fit the profile.” 

“Maybe if he didn’t speak in fucking riddles, he’d have gotten what he’d wanted already,” Gavin grumbled, kicking at the chair he faced from his perch on a table. “Most of the victims are from here in Detroit. Couple outliers around the area, but nothing across the state. Lansing’s the farthest with the second-most, and the earliest in 2025.” His LED cycled yellow as he took over the screen, pulling the Lansing victims forward and pointing at them. “All from the same precinct, East Station.”

“His first hunting ground, then.”

He thread his fingers together, pressed them to the top of his head as he sat back in his own chair, looking up at the wall of endless possibilities. There were too many puzzle pieces in play and not enough connections between the two of them.

But the ignorant dogs that run this town left you all upon fallow ground.

“This is the easiest line to translate,” Niles continued, pulling up the transcribed message and highlighting the third one. “Whoever handled his case before didn’t satisfy him. Perhaps it was left unsolved?” He peered back at the two androids behind him. “Can either of you access cases from Lansing?”

“Think so,” Hank hummed, his gaze hooding as he ran a hand through his hair. There was a subtle frown to his features as his loose, grey waves hung loose and untied, a sharp contrast to his usual pristine look. His LED swirled yellow in an instant, seconds even, before he lifted his gaze and had the data pulled up on the next monitor. “Gimme a few minutes to sort through ones that might be most likely.”

Niles had to admit, it was something to watch the data fly across the screen. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he moved to lean against the table beside Gavin as he brought his tablet up to his own view. He had scribbled the message Connor had tried to get through to them as best he could, counting each tap, each pause. It hadn’t been much, and if he was honest with himself, it was still a mystery.

But they were important. They had to be.

”Smell, water, metal,” Gavin read off, leaning over Niles’ shoulder. “That could mean fucking anything.”

”It’s related to his location,” the young detective stated matter-of-factly, tapping his stylus against the screen.

”I repeat: it could mean anything. An abandoned freight ship? The sewers? Some musty-ass house with poor insulation? A basement?” Gavin slouched against his shoulder, and Niles at least adjusted his posture some to accommodate it without ruining his back. “All of those are great serial killer caves.”

”It would have to be something he has the easiest time accessing.” Niles pursed his lips a moment, hardly bothered as his android partner slung both arms around his shoulders now. 

“Which could still be anything since we don't know a fucking thing about them.” 

One last clue I do deliver - now listen up and harken quicker.

Niles lifted his gaze as Hank cleared his throat — an admittedly strange noise for an android, all considered, but maybe that was just a part of his social relations programming.

”Got a few cases that might match,” the HK800 spoke up, waving his hand towards the screen and Niles’ own tablet. He pushed himself off of his own chair, moving to interface with the screens proper: it was the current only way for him to really ‘see’ what he was doing.

”Fifteen cases.” Oh. Niles could feel his headache growing again, a heavy sigh escaping him.

”It’s a lot,” Hank admitted, giving an apologetic grimace before swiping through the interface again. “These are the ones that make less sense in the grand scheme of it.” And away went at least ten of the cases from both screen and tablet.

Okay. This was more manageable.

“And here’s the one that stood out to me.”

Niles furrowed his brows as he stared at the case on his tablet. It seemed a simple one by the looks of it, around the time the first androids had started to come out in the year 2025. The victim had been one Jacqueline Carter, age 67, that had been evidently killed because her caretaker android had malfunctioned and had been unable to care for her in the absence of her only living relative. Said relative was her only son, Owen Carter, age 38 at the time. Owen had been the one to discover his mother’s body in their home, and had promptly placed a call to 911 moments after, according to his statement.

The android in question had been at the scene, unmoving and offline. An old model AP100 Android, one of the very first to have been released. Owen had stated it was unresponsive upon his arrival and had been unable to determine the cause. It had been sent to Cyberlife for further investigation, the report detailed on the next page.

Responding Lansing Police Officers Rowan Lambert and Detective Brett Abbott had been the first on the scene after EMS had determined she was dead upon arrival.

Rowan Lambert.

Upon the trail forgotten yore, legal precedent of most modern lore

Niles shot up so fast from his seat that Gavin yelped in surprise, but he barely paid attention to the GV900’s mad-scramble to link his arms around his neck. The barely-there weight of the other android didn’t register as he stared at the name, lifted his gaze up to the list of victims up on the board. He pulled the list of victims back down, staring at the first one.

Rowan Lambert.

“He’s the first victim,” he murmured, and he didn’t really care that the two androids in the room with him had super advanced hearing — or that one was currently wrapped around his back like a backpack.

“Yeah?” Gavin lifted his gaze from the tablet up to the victim wall, and Niles waited until he felt the soft breath of a hiss beside his neck.

“Yes. And… shit.” Niles grit his teeth, lightly squeezed his stylus in his hand. “His record would be harder to access by now. It might be useless to look into, but it might have something there we didn’t see in the case report. However, there’s no telling if the server it would be on would even be—”

“Found it.”

Niles and Gavin both turned their gaze to Hank, whose LED was slowly cycling back to blue. The HK800 offered a shrug of his singular shoulder, slipping his one hand into his pocket. “What? Gavin’s not the only one who can hack secure servers.”

Gavin let out a low whistle. “Look at you go, you rogue deviant, you. You been working on it this whole time?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I didn’t hear that,” the detective insisted, but he couldn’t help the faint curl of his lips. Having these two at his side made this investigation infinitely easier. The file was up on his tablet in minutes, pacing lightly as he read to keep himself moving now that he had a connecting string to attach, stopping only when Gavin insisted on climbing his way down finally. It was the same sort of energy he always had as he closed in on a case’s ending, on all the evidence lining up together.

On finding Connor with his own power this time.

There had been more notes on the Case of Jacqueline Carter, several of which had been placed after the crime had been deemed an accident. Repeated notes of each time Owen had called the station for an update, for news on the evidence that had been found, on what was being done to the android that, in his words, ‘had killed his mother.’ If anything had been discovered with it, or if any other motives had been discovered. Though the case report read like any other from any detective, Niles couldn’t help but notice the one or two times Detective Abbott had made note of Owen’s behaviour, despite labeling it as that of a grieving son.

He would have to talk to Detective Abbott in order to get more information.

On the other hand, the report of Rowan Lambert painted the picture of what Niles would expect of a rookie to a police department and then some. His disciplinary record was spotless, and he had graduated towards the top of his class in the police academy. He had been well-liked by his peers and his community, and had been training under Detective Abbott for the day as his training officer had called out sick for the day. There had been nothing but good things to say, up to the discovery of his most likely death. His body had ever been found, and only his eye had been delivered to the Lansing East Station.

Brown eyes, coiffed brown hair most likely gelled back into place, and a charming smile.

Looking up at the rest of the victims, there were similarities between them. All with brown eyes, though hair colours and facial structures naturally varied between them all. Only Connor really had any near-identical similarity to Rowan, and it was only in eye and hair colour. Perhaps also style.

Each victim, a rookie that had graduated from the academy at the top of their class.

Each of them had simply wanted to do the best they could for their community.

There were far more questions now than there were answers, and not for the first time since this damnable hunt began, Niles wanted to let loose a yell of frustration.

What had Rowan done that had set Owen off?

What had Connor done to end up on Owen’s radar?

He was starting to see why the FBI had failed to solve this case in ten years.

“Gavin, can you send an email to Detective Abbott for a call when he’s available? Let him know it’s urgent and needs to happen today.”

“Yessir.”

“Hank, you’ve already found the information on the missing androids from Cyberlife’s records?”

“Yeah. Angela and that other one were both confirmed stolen pre-revolution, and their trackers had been disabled. I'm running through to see if there are others that weren't already recorded as deviant with Jericho.”

Niles sank into his chair with a heavy sigh, cupping his jaw as he stared at it all together.

Present your results when next the sun sets, Detective Anderson.
Or yours, I shall grant the gift of eternal darkness.

They were still missing something. The key that had set Owen off.

Chapter Text

Duct tape sucked.

Normally it didn’t.

It held things together pretty well. Pipes, broken glasses, Logan’s old chair from his college studying days, his own fucking wrists to this chair.

He bit down on his own whine as he tugged and tugged while trying not to move overly much. No scraping of the chair, no rattling of the chains. As silent as Gavin sneaking up on him at the station. As silent as Hank breaking into his apartment.

The tape broke. His first wrist came free.

There was no time for the sob that threatened to rattle out of his chest.

—

------------------------------------
LOCATION: Detroit Central Police Station
REMAINING TIME: 15:21:03
------------------------------------

What was the motive?

Getting information on Owen Carter had been relatively easy once he presented the evidence to North. No warrant needed, Hank and Gavin had teamed up together to scour both the official sources and social media presence to see what could be found on the man. The discovery of a possible suspect had been enough to convince the FBI to allow the DPD to continue investigating. Though the assigned agent, Richard Perkins, had insisted on remaining on site and having the final say.

At least until he saw Niles, Gavin, and Hank.

“Absolutely not,” the agent spat, rounding on North. “This is highly unprofessional.”

“He’s the one that got us this far,” the Captain replied with a blasé attitude, gesturing towards Niles as he stood in the room with them.

“His brother is the victim!”

“He’s the best detective we have right now.” North held up a hand. “Believe me, I’ve tried to talk him down. I have tried to prevent him from working on this case. And do you know what happened? A stolen android marched into my precinct and shot herself in front of him after delivering a package addressed to him.” She pointed up at the screen now. “As a taunt.”

“I am, unfortunately for you, very involved in this. In more ways than one,” Niles finally added, keeping his arms folded. “And I am also the best chance you have at solving this. Yes, my brother is the victim, but that also means I will solve this.”

The agent bristled, lips curling into a sneer before nodding towards the pair of androids. “And I suppose your plastic pets are required to be involved?”

“Watch it,” Gavin spat, and it was only by the grace of Hank’s hand on his shoulder that he didn’t get up from his table perch. “Or this pet will fuck your nose up six ways from—”

Maybe it was a good thing when Hank’s hand moved to cover his mouth, given how absolutely red with fury that Richard was turning.

“These androids are official detectives of the DPD,” North cut in, stepping in to face the FBI agent. “And I would remind you that as of January of this year, any and all discrimination against androids based solely on what they are can be classified as discrimination.” Her brown eyes blazed, now, with a silent fury, and if he wasn’t trying to pry himself out of Hank’s one-armed grasp, he’d have some kind of comment to make. “This may very well be your case, but this is my precinct, my rules.”

“Your rules are going to cause this case to get thrown out in court!” Richard hissed out before he pointed directly to Hank. “That— He has already proven he will break the rules if it suits him!”

“That was all Cyberlife programming,” the HK800 replied smoothly. “Can’t be held responsible for my actions before deviancy and all. Now I’m an upstanding citizen and a member of the DPD: I’ve got new standards.”

“We can keep arguing in circles all day,” Niles stated, icy gaze fixed on the FBI Agent. “Whether or not the circumstances are to your liking, Agent Perkins, is up for debate. But these are the cards we have all been dealt with and have been dealing with since the start. We are on a time limit, as you have been made aware in the debriefing. We have less than twenty-four hours to determine where Owen Carter has Connor before our chances of finding him decrease drastically — as I am sure you are well aware, given your years of service and the cases under your belt.”

The room went silent. So silent that Gavin could hear his own biocomponents whirring against Hank’s. His grey eyes went from Niles to North to Richard, watching the unknown factor among them working whatever gears it was humans had in their own heads.

Then he clicked his tongue.

"Fine,” the FBI agent ground out, shucking his grey coat off of his shoulders. “I will make due with the circumstances. As promised, the FBI will provide any and all resources the DPD needs to ensure the safe return of your Lieutenant. However—” And his gaze snapped to North at that. “—I need not remind you that we will be taking custody of Mr. Carter once he has been caught.”

“He’ll be all yours,” the Captain assured with a wave of her hand. “We can discuss anything at a later time.” The sound of a phone blipped, echoing in the room, and North tugged hers off of her belt. A short pause, and a soft ‘fuck’ passed her lips before she turned on her heel. “I need to handle the station’s security. Try not to kill each other, gentlemen.”

Which left the two humans and two androids together.

Gavin resisted every urge to bite Hank’s hand when he didn’t let go right away, instead shimmying his way out of the bulkier android’s arm until he could drop to his knees and half-stumble his way to freedom. He spun on his heel, adjusted his coat as he flipped down his hood. “Cool, solid. So.” He faced his partner and the FBI agent. “Let’s get you up to speed, and then we’ve got a phone call to make with Lansing.”

Once Richard Perkins let go of his animosity in favour of a more professional demeanour, it became remarkably easier to get everyone on the same page. Niles ended up being their designated spokesperson while Hank manipulated the screens, pausing every so often whenever Richard had a question to ask or a comment to interject. They were never funny, some of them borderline insults, but they lacked a bite that his earlier behaviour had had.

Not quite a switch flipped, but much easier to work with.

Gavin held his tongue so as not to ruin it.

With Richard’s access levels, they were able to find out significantly more on Owen Carter. It wasn’t quite a detailed report on what the man’s hobbies were, but it became much easier to track where he was at what time, to connect him more easily to each victim. By the end of the hour, they had more than enough reason to see the pattern behind it, places to check and old surveillance to review (“holy shit the 2020s had awful camera quality,” Gavin remarked to both Niles’ and Richard’s apparent amusement). They even had a current place of work.

Manfred’s Art Gallery. The same art gallery the attack had happened behind.

The call with Detective Abbott revealed far more than any report or social media stalking could have.

“He was almost obsessive about how often he called me,” the old detective had explained over the phone — on speaker, with his permission, for all to hear and for the androids to record. “I remember because at first it just seemed like he was a grieving son missing his mother. Sometimes he’d call me two, three times a day.”

“What made him seem obsessive?” Niles asked with furrowed brows.

“We’d tell him what the evidence looked like. Eventually he stopped talking to me and went straight to talking to Lambert, God rest his soul. I remember hearing his FTO complain about it every time the kid had to go answer a call from the guy. When Lambert stopped answering, Owen started showing up at the station asking about him.” Abbott heaved out a sigh. “And it didn’t stop when we closed the case.”

“What was the result?”

“It was ‘cause of the android, but not in the way it was presented. The thing malfunctioned, sure enough, but not on its own. It had damages all over it and one of its core components had been damaged in whatever last tumble it had taken. Owen’s prints were all over it, and its recording showed it getting shoved damn and beaten up pretty damn often. The guess is that it just couldn’t take anymore damage and ended up shutting down. Unfortunately, that was when Owen was out at work and his mother had a damn heart attack.”

“Why the fixation on Officer Lambert?”

“No fucking clue. All the kid did was be nice. He offered to be the one to give Owen the result of the case since he wanted the practice, and me and the FTO agreed. When he kept coming by, we had to tell him to kick rocks and put Lambert on protection detail for a little bit until the heat died down. We thought that was the end of it. Didn’t think there was a connection when we wound up getting the kid’s eyeball delivered in a fucking box and a cryptic fucking message. Owen never struck me as the poetic type.”

There wasn’t much else to be gained from the call, and Niles and Richard both thanked him for his time before the latter opted to find some source of food. New notes were created and plastered to the wall screens by Hank, and Gavin—

Gavin focused on Niles. Squinted, even. It had been a full day of work, and that wasn’t including the hangover the detective had since the morning. Which hadn’t gone away at all, if the way his partner’s stress sat at frustratingly high 55%. But he didn’t need any biometric scans or notifications to just see that they were nearing the edge of his meatbag’s physical limits. With all of his nose-pinching and temple-rubbing and the almost sickly-pale skin in the station’s damnable fluorescent lights.

“You gotta eat something,” the android spoke up finally, pushing off his perch to get to his partner’s side.

“I’m fine.” The expected, if decidedly untrue, response.

“It’s been eight hours!”

“We’ve got the Captain getting info from Manfred’s gallery about Owen,” Hank offered out over his shoulder, peering at the two of them, and Gavin nodded fervently along with it. “Everything we need won’t magically appear right this second. Go eat.”

“Seriously!” the GV900 piped up, trying to at least get Niles to look at him. He was already sending a message out to Logan with Niles’ condition. “A five minute break won’t be the end of the world. I’ll even go with you, and Hank’ll call us if something’s been discovered.”

“Five minutes could make the difference for Connor ,” the young detective insisted, and Gavin had never had the urge to scream more than he did in this moment.

“We—” And he gestured between himself and Hank rapidly. “—got this, we can cover five minutes. Anything we find won’t even take that long to send to you.” He gripped at his partner’s arm, swallowing down the inexplicable lump that had formed in his biocomponents (which shouldn’t be possible ). “Nines, you look like shit.”

“Your observation is duly noted,” Niles replied with so much dryness he could have given a desert a run for its money. He shrugged Gavin’s hand off and the GV900 tried not to feel the sting of rejection that coursed from his fingertips.

Gavin didn’t even follow when his partner walked out, biting his lip as his LED spun yellow with concern.

These fucking Andersons.

“Stubborn brats, aren’t they?” Hank commented after a beat.

“No wonder you went deviant,” Gavin huffed, folding his arms, tapping his foot. “... Following’s just gonna piss him off, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes they need the space,” the HK800 confirmed, setting his free hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “He’s stressed as hell.”

“No shit ”

“And everyone’s been hovering over his shoulder since this whole thing started.”

That… was true, Gavin could admit. He stopped tapping his foot as his gaze cast downwards.

“Checking on how he’s feeling, his well being, scanning him… wouldn’t be surprised if he felt a bit smothered right about now.” Looking over at the other android, Gavin found his shoulders lowering at the sight of the pained smirk he had. “Five minutes alone won’t kill him. We can both hear him in the breakroom, anyway.”

“Yeah, getting coffee,” he snorted out, but… well. Hank had a point. He leaned against one of the tables again. “I fucking hate this.”

“Tell me about it.”

Gavin blinked. He looked up at Hank. Stress level of 30%.

Had it lowered at all?

“But we’ll find him.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“I’ve worked with him long enough.” Hank took up the spot beside Gavin. “You think Niles is stubborn? Jesus Christ, you should’ve seen Connor when we were working on the deviant cases.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m the android, and he’s the one that decided to have a fucking foot chase just trying to catch a deviant.” The HK800 held out his hand for an interface, and sure enough, there was the memory of Hank yelling after his stupid human partner, chasing after him and some deviant android through a greenhouse.

“Holy shit,” Gavin wheezed out as snickers took over him.

“Fucking insane. Niles and Logan yelled at him all evening when I got him home.”

“DPD’s youngest fucking Lieutenant!”

“Don’t even ask me how he didn’t fucking break something!”

Snickers turned into outright cackling. Nothing about the memory was surprising, and Gavin could honestly see the parallels between Connor and Niles.

Fucking idiot brothers.

Stubborn to a fault.

“They’re stubborn as all fucking hell,” Hank continued, withdrawing his hand away from Gavin. “So we look out for them however we can. Sometimes that means giving them some space. They’ll come back around so long as you don’t do something egregiously wrong.”

He was starting to get that, at least in part. Gavin leaned back on his hands as he looked out the door of the briefing room, towards where he knew and could hear the damnable coffee maker making its next caffeine-infused monstrosity to give whatever faux-energy that seemed to work for Niles. Everything in his database suggested and nearly demanded he do things one way and one way only. Screw adaptability, he wanted to say, his partner was a stupid fucking meatbag incapable of keeping himself alive.

But these last few months had been… 

They had been nice. He had learned a lot from the Anderson brothers as a whole, from the nights they spent at their family dinners to the quiet evenings he spent with Niles at his own place. Watching Connor and Logan bicker about some inane topic and Niles picking fun at both of them when height or age inevitably became part of the topic. Learning all about why each brother had their various nicknames (Niles and his inevitable haunting by the number ‘9’ in all things he did, and Logan’s insistence that being born sixty seconds later did not inherently mean he was a younger brother).

“Hey, Niles, are you— ohgodholyshitHANKGAVINSOSNOWPLEASE!”

So much for five minutes.

Both androids jumped at the sound of Tina’s desperate yell, and Gavin nearly skidded on the tile floor in his bid to make it to the break room. Seeing Tina’s small form struggling to keep Niles upright by standing under his arm would, under any other circumstance, maybe be a little funny, if not for the fucking way-too-low-blood-sugar he was reading.

“Keep him steady,” he ordered to the other android (maybe with a little bit more bite than he intended, whoops) as he slipped in easily to Niles’ other side. “Over to the couch, drag his feet if you gotta.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tina asked as they managed to maneuver his fucking beanstalk of a partner onto the questionably-soft breakroom couch. Her eyes fell on Niles as he said… something?

Something. It was slurred. Gavin didn’t give a shit. Fuck being nice right now. Niles probably wasn’t even coherent because his eyes weren’t even open.

“You shut the fuck up,” he ordered his partner with a snap before turning on Tina. “Fucking meatbag that didn’t eat today.”

“Ah. The Anderson Way.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Logan’s been informed,” Hank provided with a grimace and snagged a juice bottle from the fridge. “We just have to wait for him to take over.”

“Oh, good.” Gavin huffed as he dumped his jacket for the second time in a day on top of his fucking partner. “You hear that, asshole? Big brother’s involved now.”

And if there was any amount of relief at the middle finger he was given in response, he sure as shit would deny it.

Chapter Text

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Mhm.”

“Why is he so fucking stupid!?”

“Yup.”

At some point it was just better to let Logan rant when he got riled up, Gavin had realized, as he set about following after the technician for the evening. True to Hank’s prediction, he had arrived at the station almost criminally quick after receiving his notification. Android Technician though he was, he had apparently enough medical knowledge from his days of pre-med to be able to figure out what Niles needed to safely get back up.

And then the argument between the brothers had happened.

In front of North.

Nothing Hank or Gavin could do could keep the Captain from forcibly separating them — Niles, banished from the station for a federally mandated break (“I don't need a half-dead detective on top of a missing one!”) and Logan… well, a bit more permanently for the evening after he tried arguing with her.

To top it off, Niles’ mood, sufficiently soured, had grated on Gavin’s own nerves. Surly, stoic-faced, and frustratingly quiet in the wake of an argument with his maybe-last-living brother, and everything Gavin tried to say and connect with only seemed to piss him off further. Everything, from his programming to just his common fucking sense from working with him, pointed towards his partner overworking himself, pushing himself too hard, and punishing himself.

Gavin wanted to scream.

He wanted to scream and yell and shake some sense into Niles because seeing that guilt-ridden, defeated look on him didn’t suit him in the slightest bit.

Far too many errors had popped up in his HUD just seeing the damnable box of cigarettes alone.

“You take a break, too,” Hank had practically ordered with a pinched brow of concern. “I’ll watch over Niles while you and Logan get the station some grub and actually-decent coffee. Fuck knows everyone here needs it.”

Which was how Gavin ended up here, at the Chicken Feed of all places, with Logan grumbling and rambling and his own stress levels sitting at an obnoxiously high 63%.

The android sighed as he tipped his gaze up to the sky, the light dusting of snow just barely beginning to fall as the late afternoon dragged into evening. A quick access of the weather report told him that the snowfall would continue to thicken later on in the night, covering the streets of the city of Detroit, Michigan, with temperatures dipping well below freezing. Come morning time, it would stop, the city workers would come to clear it all away so that the early morning commuters could get to work, and the new day would begin again.

The world would continue to turn in the middle of this Hellscape they had found themselves stuck in for over twenty-four hours now.

REMAINING TIME: 14:35:45
STRESS LEVELS: 67%

“Earth to Gav.”

He blinked once, twice, as fingers snapped twice in front of his eyes, drawing them over to his human companion for the evening. Logan’s brows were furrowed, an uncanny similarity to his twin and yet not quite. It was just the slightest bit off, a subtle difference in demeanor that humans probably never even noticed.

But he was lagging and it had been over a second. He should probably answer.

“I’m listening,” he replied with a cant of his head, lips curling up into an attempt at a lop-sided grin.

“Yeah? So what did I say?”

“That Niles is a dumbass working himself into the ground.”

Logan’s mouth opened and closed a few times, reminiscent of a fish, before a scowl settled upon his face and he huffed. He just turned and started grabbing at the bags of prepared food Gary had set aside for them. “Okay, that was too fucking easy.”

“It’s almost like I’m the most advanced android in existence and you’re just predictable,” Gavin replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Most advanced smartass, more like!”

“And yet you still let me hang around you.”

His stress levels ticked down a couple percentage points as Logan gave a dramatic harumph and put on a show of being offended, and Gavin could only cackle as he maneuvered each takeout bag and shot back a ‘thanks’. It was the small things, the little things, that were going to keep them sane right now. And right now that was focusing on feeding the overworked and overstressed officers of the DCPD.

“Think North will let me back in with the peace offering?” Logan asked, breaking the silence between them as they started filling up the Oldsmobile.

“I think it’s a good first step,” Gavin admitted, preconstructing the best way to get this all in without risking any of it falling apart on the floor of Connor’s precious car. “But your best bet would be to get her some fancy coffee from her favourite cafe.”

“And which one’s that?”

“Gentle Embrace Cafe.”

“Hell of a name,” Logan remarked, folding his arms where he leaned against the car to wait. “Never heard of them before.”

“Not really anywhere you’d normally go. It’s right between the art’s district and station.”

Logan wrinkled his nose just as Gavin straightened up, shutting the door with no small amount of triumph. His programming gave a little happy ‘MISSION COMPLETE’ in his HUD, and his stress ticked down a few more points. Distractions were good.

“Connor?!”

They should have been.

Android and human froze at the unfamiliar voice, gazes mirrored as they turned sharply to the source. From appearance alone, and from the hurt confusion in Logan’s face, this wasn’t someone either of them knew. It wasn’t that the brothers were privy to every person in each other’s lives: they were adult men, there were secrets that were kept. Social circles that didn’t match. Friends and acquaintances they did and didn’t know, and that much was easier to do when both Niles and Connor saw upwards of twenty new faces per day in their line of work.

“What’re you doing here? You—” Alarms rang in his HUD as the stranger came up to and grabbed Logan by the arms, and Gavin was quick to cut in.

“Hey, hey, hands off!” the android ordered, practically throwing the man back and keeping Logan behind him. “Anyone ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?!”

The stranger blinked once, twice. An older man, slightly hunched shoulders, confusion plastered over an aged face. He looked homeless, as far as he was concerned, if not for the LED stuck to his right temple.

“Easy, Gavin,” Logan grumbled, setting a hand on his shoulders and somewhat firmly guiding Gavin out of the way. “I’m not Connor, though. He’s my twin brother.” He pulled up a weak smirk, raised a hand to his curly hair. “He’s got the neater style out of us. You know him?”

The stranger stared a few seconds longer. Long enough to trigger Gavin’s facial scan as the android continued to frown at him. “N… No, I… “ His eyes looked between the pair before ducking his head, pulling the head of his jacket up. “... it’s n-nothing.”

He was already turning away and walking at a too-fast pace to be anything but nerves. Hissing something under his breath.

But Gavin was an android.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

The most advanced android in existence with a processor to match the title.

He didn’t need more than a second.

Dark green hooded jacket. Aged face. An android LED, broken, at his temple.

STRESS LEVELS: 76%
-WARNING: Stress Levels Reaching Critical

 

NAME : Owen Carter
DOB : 04/13/1987
OCCUPATION : Maintenance Worker (Manfred Gallery)
BOLO ISSUED FOR POSSIBLE MURDER
CONTACT DCPD ON SIGHT

“Logan, get in the fucking car and go to the station,” Gavin hissed as he marched forward. He didn’t wait for a response, ignored whatever orders and demands were being shouted at him,  ripped his arm out of the human’s grasp with laughable ease as he engaged his tracking protocols, highlighting his target Cyberlife-fucking-gold in a sea of grey.

This was luck.

This was pure fucking luck.

And he’d be damned if he let this chance get away from them.

He prided himself in his self control to not give chase right away. To follow in marched silence as his programming took over, digging a nail into his own finger until he could feel the thirium trickling out and disabled his self-healing from taking care of it for now.

For now.

Down the block, around the corner, into an alleyway.

Silent as can be.

A Hunter with an objective.

—

“—and that should be your arm all fixed up.”

Niles couldn’t help but fidget with his lighter as he sat with Simon and Hank in the lab, watching as the technician attached and helped Hank recalibrate his arm back into place. The connection ports had been the toughest challenge, having to be reconstructed, but he’d claimed the fastest way to test the arm on such short notice would be to plug it in directly. There was vague mention of some program or other needing to run, a lack of synthskin reappearing right away, but all in all, it seemed Hank had his second arm back.

His fingers itched for something, anything. His mind buzzed and his thoughts swirled.

A part of that was probably the hangover

He knew he wasn’t being fair earlier, not to Gavin and certainly not to Logan. He knew he was pushing himself too hard, concerningly hard. He knew everyone was just worried.

But fuck if he didn’t know what to do right now.

The need for a motive was grating on him. A motive would help them identify why, but not where.

They needed to know where.

Richard had been working to grant them the access they needed to delve into federal records and cross state lines for the information they needed on Owen Carter. North had patrol cars updated and all officers given the latest information they had. They even had Markus Manfred himself sitting in their station on the off chance Owen called either him or his android, Carl.

There was nothing to do but wait.

Wait for news, wait for an update. Just like a decade ago when he and Logan had been placed under guard by DCPD’s finest, stuck sitting in their living room and waiting for any information. Anything at all on whether or not their big brother was going to be coming home.

REMAINING TIME: 14:35:45

The notification sat like a taunt on his phone when he looked.

Two hands clapped down on his shoulders, forcing Niles to look up at the HK800 that was now kneeling in front of him. He could see the yellow interspaced with red on Hank’s LED, the way the android’s jaw worked as he tried to come up with some word to say.

“How’re you feeling, son?”

Niles had to resist the urge to snort, forcing his gaze away from Hank’s knowing gaze. It was hard to lie to Gavin by default: state-of-the-art GV900 with a built in lie detector and a smart mouth to match? His partner never seemed to get the hint that sometimes he lied for his own sake as well as others’.

Hank, on the other hand, was different. All of his specs aside, he was calmer, though perhaps that was by nature of him being partnered with Connor for so long. Sure, he had his moments of animation, and he had a boisterous laugh that sent warmth through his core. He had a softness to his gaze that he hadn’t seen since he was a teenager, and a strength befitting of an HK800.

It made it impossible to lie to him.

“Tired,” he admitted quietly, and it felt an awful lot like coughing up needles.

“I bet.” Hank stood then, though only enough so that he could move to sit down beside Niles on the bench. Simon seemed to busy himself with packing up his tools and whatever other pieces of electronics he’d had to use to repair Hank’s arm. “You manage to finish off that juice from earlier?”

“I’m not a child, Hank.” Niles couldn’t help it: the irritation had bubbled up before he’d had a chance to tamp it down.

“I know.” The android held his hands up in mock-surrender. “I just didn’t see earlier if you did. Had to keep Logan from getting arrested when he went feral.”

He snorted softly. “It would have served him right.”

“Yeah, but neither of you need that right now.”

True. Niles didn’t think he could go home to Sumo alone, without Logan, at the end of the evening. He had already promised North that he would just so she wouldn’t kick him out of the station right then and there.

Hank didn’t press for more words, more conversation. He simply sat there, the pair of them watching Simon as he finished up and left the lab, leaving the pair of them behind. Companionable silence that allowed his head to think too many thoughts, too quickly. Too many what-ifs surfacing forth. Too much dread, too much focusing on the time remaining.

“Connor wouldn’t be like this,” he muttered before he could tamp it down. “He’d have solved this case by now if our positions had been reversed.”

“You shittin’ me?” Hank scoffed as he tugged his jacket on, one arm in each sleeve, and flexed his fingers. “Connor’d be losing his damn mind just as much as you’ve been.”

“He’d handle all of this better still.”

“Doubt it.”

“You seem remarkably confident.”

“Android.” The HK800 gestured at himself first before he gestured next to Niles. “Human. Better at predictions than you.” He leaned back, with a half shrug, but those piercing blue eyes never left Niles. It was almost uncanny, if he was honest. “Smartassery aside… this situation sucks balls. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo with this kind of situation, it’s your brother. I’m sure you’ve heard it a hundred times in the last day alone, but no one’s gonna give you shit for losing your cool a little.”

“‘Losing my cool’ isn’t productive. It sets us back when we have a time limit.”

“Passing out from low blood sugar also sets us back.” And oh, Niles wished he could have wiped the stone-faced look off the android’s face. “Why are you being so hard on yourself, anyway?”

“Because—!” But he clamped down on the words, snapping his jaw shut.

He knew why, of course, but the thought of letting the words escape, when all he’d done is try to clamp down on them, choked him up and twisted his gut.

Because it would be his fault.

Because the thought of repaying Connor, after everything he’d done for them, by letting him down and his body fall into obscurity like all the other victims, was suffocating.

Niles was grateful when Hank didn’t press. He had a suspicion, if the hand on his shoulder was anything to go by, that he probably already knew.

Hank stood, then, and beckoned him forward as his LED cycled and blinked yellow for a split second. “C’mon: the two goons are almost back with food. Let’s help ‘em unload it.

He was inclined to let Logan and Gavin handle it themselves, but the temptation of having a task to do in the midst of all this constant waiting was too great. Niles gave a slow nod and rose to his feet, running his hand through his hair to push the somewhat-limp locks out of his hair. As much as he was loathe to admit it, maybe a shower back home would be in his best interest. He doubted he’d be able to sleep, anyway.

The crisp, cool air of a Detroit evening was an admittedly refreshing slap to the face. Tugging up the collar of his coat to keep some level of the cold from seeping in, Niles let his gaze travel skyward as the first few flakes of snow started to fall for the evening.

Niles hoped, wherever Connor was, that he was at least out of it. He’d always hated the cold, never seemed to be warm enough no matter how many layers of clothing he wore.

“When we get him back,” he found himself speaking, drawing his gaze over to and meeting Hank’s own, “we should get him a new blanket. For him and Sumo.”

Because they would. They would get Connor back.

The android barked out a laugh. “Yeah. There’s a couple he’s had his eyes on that I can order.”

Tires screeched and had the both of them looking, just in time as the Oldsmobile came screeching around the corner, swerving too-sharply into the next lane and earning the screech of honking horns and no small amount of expletives. Hank and Niles jumped back from the curb just as Logan slammed to a stop in front of them, confusion and irritation and anger bubbling all together as his older brother came stumbling out of Connor’s car.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Because Niles had had enough — he couldn’t handle Logan being Logan on top everything else, their argument from earlier rising to the surface once more. He didn’t care as colleagues and witnesses started to surround them. “Because maybe you really do need to be arrested for—”

“Gav’s—!”

He shut up once Logan gripped his arms and squeezed, gulping in gasps of air, and Niles let the fog of rage dissipate as he assessed the state of the technician. Red-rimmed, glassy eyes and panic-stricken, trembling and cursing up a storm as he struggled to breathe through his hyperventilating.

“Gav’s— Gav’s chasing someone. Hunting.” Logan wheezed as his fingers curled tight into Niles’ jacket. “I-I think we met the killer.”

Chapter Text

“All units be advised: Officer is in pursuit—“

North’s voice came through his radio with ease, barely audible over the roar of his motorcycle as he raced through the streets.

”—suspect is a white male adult, medium build, possibly unknown android model—“

He had barely gotten away with it, slowed down just enough to ensure his tactical vest was secured with his issued weapon before taking off in the direction his partner had gone.

”—officer in pursuit is GV900, registered name Gavin—“

It had taken far more willpower than he realized to separate himself from Logan in the moment. The realization of how close he had come to danger had hit them both hard, his older brother harder because Logan simply didn’t live in a world where his life was on the line every time he went into work. He hadn’t pursued the sort of work and career that required it precisely because he couldn’t handle it. In their own way, Connor and Niles had been relieved of it, knowing that at least one of the Andersons would always be much safer.

“—do not engage GV900, I repeat: do not engage GV900 without—“

But a rogue android added into the mix made it unavoidable.

“You’re the only one right now that can fuckin’ stop Gavin,” Hank had stated, no small amount of bitterness in his tone and the way he touched a hand to still-damaged eyes. “He’ll kick my ass while I’m like this.”

”I’ll be f-fine,” Logan had insisted as he’d gained enough air in his lungs. “Go get Gav— don't let them shoot him.”

There had only been one time that Niles could remember when Gavin had fallen to his Hunter Protocol. Only one time where he had genuinely, truly worried that the GV900 was a threat, and that had been their first meeting in Cyberlife Tower.

It was going to be difficult. It was going to be dangerous.

Niles picked up his speed as he passed the alley that Gavin had disappeared down. A cursory glance showed his partner wasn’t there, not that he had expected he would be. As much as he knew Gavin’s capabilities, they had no idea what Owen himself was capable of. All evidence pointed to him being very much human, but therein lay the problem: humans could be incredibly unpredictable. He had also made a mistake.

Why would he have been looking for Connor when he supposedly had him?

It meant something had changed. Another outlier in the pile of evidence against the Gift Box Killer. Another change in the M.O. It was easy to guess that Owen had more than likely lost Connor because Connor had managed to escape.

Which meant Owen was likely desperate. Perhaps dangerously unpredictable.

Niles wasn’t sure if it was a good thing Connor had escaped. They had seen his condition. It was unlikely he would be able to get very far without aggravating whatever serious injuries he had, and they still had no leads on where he was.

“Hank’s got Gav’s signal,” Logan came on over his headset, and Niles felt a bit of the weight fall off his shoulders. Logan was feeling better if he was helping out. It was one less family member to worry about for now.  “Pulling it up on your GPS now, lil bro.”

”You really should join Dispatch,” he remarked with soft huff as the notification came through over his helmet’s visor, just long enough for him to direct himself where he needed.

”Then who’d make you guys all these cool sci-fi toys! Now get your ass focused!”

"Thanks."

"Thank me by coming back alive."

In a way, it was terrifying to watch Gavin’s signal fly across the map, but it gave him just enough leverage to determine just where he was going. A rough idea of what to expect based on the speed and path of travel. And a place he could potentially cut him off, if he could get there in time.

There wasn’t much known about Gavin’s programming in the first place. A lot of the records from Cyberlife had been destroyed or damaged by the GV900 himself during his time of isolation, leaving him as the only one to give up any information on his own capabilities. What Niles had been able to observe had been either during test runs against Hank, or in pursuit of criminals in the field. He had faster-than-average speed and his model was lightweight enough, just barely below the average weight of a human male of the same height and build. He could reconstruct a crime scene just like Hank could, though he didn’t have a built-in forensics lab in his mouth (and they still didn’t know why his mouth was where Cyberlife decided to put it for Hank) and preconstruct his actions before executing them. And despite his lightweight model, he was more than capable of ripping a car door clean off its hinges like it was made of putty.

Hunter Mode, as Gavin had opted to call it, was unknown outside of what he had observed.

His gaze caught a glimpse of white, a streak of Cyberlife Blue blurring as they darted down an alley.

Niles tugged sharply on his brakes just as he forced his motorcycle into a drift, tires screeching against the asphalt just as he scrambled to follow after his partner. He hissed as he almost dropped it, slid off smoothly in the same moment he kicked down the stand and ripped out the key to continue on foot. And if he missed slamming his helmet down on it, well, he’d just have to buy another if it came down to it.

”Gavin!” Niles called out as he raced after his android partner, boots pounding against the pavement as he tried to follow, rambling his location to Dispatch to get back-up on the way. A yell from further ahead of him was what had him drawing his gun, checking the safety for but a brief moment.

He had to tighten his grip to steady the tremble to his hand, the fear that was gnawing at his chest.

The sound of a gunshot had Niles ducking against a wall in a heartbeat, checking and rechecking his vest. Shit.

”—esus, what are you made of —“

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

”Reinforced carbon steel, carbon fiber, copper, aluminum, high-strength alloys, thirium-300… ”

He had never heard Gavin sound so clinical before. So robotic. It sent a chill down his spine: he hadn’t sounded like this even during their first meeting. Was he going to be able to talk him down?

“Back-up is en-route, Detective. When you give the all-clear— ”

Niles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, flipped the safety off of his weapon. He needed control of this situation. Gaze sharp, he rounded the corner, gun raised as he found and trained his weapon on—

“Drop your weapons, Owen!”

The first thing Niles noticed was Owen himself. The man that had eluded capture for entirely too long, who had made their lives a living hell in the last thirty-four hours. Forest green jacket with his hood pulled down to reveal the unkempt, stringy head of blond hair he had and a five o’clock shadow, that infernal broken LED on his temple. Revolver in one hand. A poor excuse for a knife in the other. Red-faced and sweaty from exertion and fury plain in his eyes.

”Drop your weapons, now.”

The man smiled , ear-to-ear, despite it. It was uncanny, it could very well have been something an android was capable of.  ”I’d rather not, Detective. This android seems rather determined to kill me.”

They didn’t have time for this. He could practically hear the timer on his phone ticking away. One shot, aimed away, just to Owen’s left, as a threat. There was satisfaction in seeing the man give the faintest jump, and Niles found it much harder than anticipated to resist shooting him instead.

“I’m not asking, Mr. Carter,” he spat. “If you don't, he will attack and I won’t stop him.”

That, at least, seemed to get him to comply.

The second thing he noticed was Gavin hadn’t even turned to look at him. No acknowledgement, not even a flicker of emotion in his gaze with his too-bright eyes and his too-still posture. But he could see the red of his LED as it cycled and cycled.

Shit.

“Stand down, Gavin.” Niles kept his gaze steady, kept back from the pair of them so he could keep them both in his visual. This was stupid: he should wait for back-up. If Gavin turned on him, Owen would get away.

But he was very, very certain Gavin would kill Owen if he didn’t play his cards right.

”He’s a target that needs to be eliminated,” the android replied smoothly, robotically , and it made his skin crawl. This wasn’t Gavin. Not truly. This was programming taking over. Programming they knew nothing about and could do nothing about in this moment.

”You can’t kill him. You know that.” He didn’t know where to keep his gun trained, but kept it on Owen for now. The man looked shell-shocked enough that he wasn’t going to do anything just yet but he still had the gun. He chanced a step closer to his partner.

Not that a gun would even work on Gavin.

“He’s a threat to the homeland.”

The homeland. Niles resisted the urge to shudder.

”If you kill him now, we won’t find Connor,” he reminded, hoping that his voice hadn’t cracked nearly as badly as it felt. “There are no clues to his location. We need him.”

”He’s a threat—“

”He’s the only one who knows where he is!”

Another step then two. Neither Owen or Gavin were reacting.

Gavin was at least looking at him now. His LED was blinking, indicative of thought, even if it was still red. That was progress. It had to be.

“We can’t, Gavin,” Niles insisted, a touch of desperation in his voice as he stepped ever-closer. “There is no one who wants to more than me — perhaps Logan if he ever held a gun. But we need information to bring Connor home.”

He couldn’t lose this chance. If Owen was killed here, they would never find Connor. The city was too large, there weren’t enough clues. Connor would be dead by the time they scoured it all.

”You’re wasting time reasoning with a machine, Detective Anderson,” Owen finally spoke, and Niles latched his gaze onto the man. “It cannot change its directive so easily.”

”There is no directive,” Niles bit back. There were an infinite number of things he wanted to say and all of them would get Owen killed if he couldn’t talk Gavin down. “I will get to you in a moment, Mr. Carter.”

”Please. At least use my first name before I die.”

”You won’t be dying, Mr. Carter, until you tell us where your victim is.”

Owen only stretched his lips into a smile — not quite friendly, but not quite malicious. Creepy, as far as Niles was concerned. “Well, that’s not up to you and I, now, is it? I’ve already tried to defend myself against it, and lo and behold: he’s already healed up.”

No, Niles had not noticed because he was one man trying to keep an eye on a known serial killer, holding his brother hostage elsewhere, and an unstoppable android. There was no back-up for him unless he got Gavin to calm down.

At least Gavin was processing. Thinking. Maybe it would happen sooner than he’d expected. He saw a speck of emotion re-enter those glowing blue eyes.

”You will not be getting the easy way out of this,” the detective replied, keeping his gun trained. “Where is my brother?”

”A fantastic question.” The shrug Owen gave in response was far too nonchalant for a man with ten murders under his belt. “One can but only wonder indeed.”

”Don’t play games, Mr. Carter.”

“No games? Fine. He’s where I’ve put all the rest. A clue for a clue, an eye for an eye. You’ve yet to deliver on your end, after all.”

The words had a much greater effect on him that he would have liked. His blood turned to ice, his breath caught in his throat. He knew, he knew Owen was just stalling, baiting, trying to get something out of this interaction. Yet that didn’t stop the emotion that surged forth like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him under until he could dismiss it.

That was the only hesitation Owen needed.

A shot went off. His world tilted suddenly, rapidly, and burned as he pulled the trigger of his own weapon, and pain erupted as his back hit the ground hard. He hissed sharply, gun wrenched free from his grip as a third shot went off.

Everything hurt and he was very, unfortunately, aware of the weight sprawled across him, on the searing pain erupting from his right shoulder.

”What the fuck, meatbag?!”

Two cold, hard plastic hands gripped at his jaw and turned his head so sharply and suddenly that things just kept spinning and spinning, melding together greys and whites and LED blues—

“Gavin, I will hurl on you if you don't slow down,” he hissed in warning, squeezing his eyes shut to re-orient himself and keep the world from spinning out of his control more than it already had.

His very emotive, frightened, light-weight partner with a sapphire blue thirium stain on one sleeve. It wasn’t dripping, which means Owen probably hadn’t lied when he said Gavin had already healed.

”Owen—?”

”Fuckin’ booked it.”

”Your arm—“

”Not worse than you right now.”

”Did you—?”

”Kill him? No. You sure shot him, though.”

Fuck. Fuck.

And his shoulder was burning and uncomfortably wet because of-fucking-course the place he’d get shot was one of the only places the vest didn’t cover.

”—900 callin’ in. I’m good. Owen got away. Officer’s— Niles’ been shot: send EMS over here—”

Niles groaned as he forced himself to sit up, felt it as Gavin shuffled from on top of him to sitting beside him — for which he was eternally grateful as he found himself swaying for the second time that day. He let himself slump against the android that wrapped arms around his shoulder, squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of dizziness threatening to send him right back to the ground. He was starting to feel the burn of pain in his right shoulder.

”We need to go after him,” he insisted nonetheless.

“Need to—?! You were fucking shot!” Gavin exclaimed as if he needed the reminder.

“You said Owen was as well.”

”Yeah, right in the— … no.” Niles fixed his gaze on Gavin as the android’s eyes widened and his LED cycled and cycled and cycled. “No, Nines, I’m not gonna fuckin’ leave you when you’re like this!”

“Hank isn’t repaired yet.” He grabbed and squeezed at Gavin’s hands — for his benefit or the android’s even he didn’t know right now. “Owen’s injured, which means there’s a trail you can follow.”

“I’m not—!” Gavin choked back the words as red-and-blue lights filtered into the alleyway, looking up to see as shadows and blurs of paramedics and officers both started filtering into the place. Niles could see the conflict, the insistent blink of a red LED, the still-blue eyes and the conflict on his partner’s face.

“Go and save my brother.” He squeezed his eyes against the emotion that threatened to surge through again, willing his voice, his composure, his very being, to remain steady for just a little bit longer. “Please.”

With how fast his LED was blinking, Niles was almost certain Gavin would refuse. Yet with no small amount of cursing and rambling that was much too fast to understand and a sharp spin on his heel, the android took off to continue the hunt.

Chapter Text

Shit, fuck, dammit—

His world fluttered between shades of grey, pixels and warnings blinked away as fast as they appeared. His breathing program cycled rapidly, too fast, as he blinked through the saline solution threatening to blur his vision.

Niles had gotten shot and he’d abandoned him to continue the hunt.

STRESS LEVEL: 83.2% ^
WARNING: Stress Levels Critical
-Emergency Stasis Recommended

Niles had gotten shot. His programming had taken over, made him hunt , made him a machine, and his partner had gotten shot. He hadn’t been able to pull himself out of it in time, hadn’t caught the near-hidden glint of metal from Owen’s jacket before the shot had gone out.

And he’d abandoned him to continue the hunt.

Gavin heaved out heated breaths as the trail led him behind an alley, systems struggling to cool between the stress and exertion, the threat of panic gnawing at his biocomponents. He shouldn’t be here. He should be back with Niles, watching over him, helping him because he got his favourite meatbag shot.

He had to do this, though. Niles had asked him, begged him, to follow after Owen and that’s what he was doing. Following a barely-there blood trail and searching for a meatbag in a sea of meatbags. It had gotten thinner the farther they got from where he’d been confronted, and he could only assume that meant Owen was trying to cover the wound up.

It wouldn’t work. Gavin was designed specifically to hunt, and his partner had asked him to do so. So that was exactly what he was going to do no matter the cost.

STRESS LEVEL: 83.7% ^

No matter what happened to his sense of self.

STRESS LEVEL: 84.1% ^

He couldn’t let Niles down.

Because that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? All of what he did, all of his actions these past two days, trying to watch over and take care of his partner, had all been for Niles’ own sake.

Niles Anderson, who was meant to be one of the most put-together, poised human among all the humans he’d known. He was emotive in his own way, despite his more neutral, more subdued expressions. Who did the bare minimum to keep himself in enough shape to keep up with his workload and continue to grow his reputation as one of the DPD’s most ruthless detectives. Who thought living off of coffee and coffee alone for half of a day was going to keep him alive. Who thought the world of brothers and was far more empathetic than anyone ever seemed to realize.

Who would fall apart if Gavin didn’t complete this damnable mission.

P̶R̸I̷M̸A̸R̶Y̸ ̵O̷B̴J̷E̶C̷T̷I̷V̶E̸—

He hissed as he smacked a hand, hard, into the side of his head. Into his LED, eliciting a cascade of temporary warnings from the impact of it and dismissing them as quickly as they came.

P̶R̸I̷M̸A̸R̶Y̸ ̵O̷B̴J̷E̶C̷T̷I̷V̶E̸:̶ ̷D̵e̷f̸e̴n̷d̸ ̴t̸h̶—

“Fuck off,” Gavin snarled as he forcibly overwrote the objective. The only thing he needed to defend was Niles, and he couldn’t even do that right. So now he needed to find Connor , make that the primary objective, because if they didn’t, if Owen got away—

Every program, every wire, every biocomponent in him rattled against it all. Against the hunt, against the situation, against Connor for being stupid and getting caught.

Gavin backpedaled immediately on the last, would swallow the thought and keep it locked in a blackhole. It wasn’t Connor’s fault. Don't blame the victim.

The need to hunt was buzzing, incessantly, in every carbon fiber plate and reinforced carbon steel frame, and it needed to stop or he’d get someone hurt or, worse, killed.

Like he’d gotten Niles hurt, maybe killed, there had been blood, and humans was frustratingly fragile things—

“——n!”

”Fuck, fuck, fuck! ” he hissed, both hands digging into the side of his head, as his lungs shuddered in his chassis. A malfunction warning surged into his HUD, over and over, as he failed to bring in enough cooling air, feeling his internal temperature rising and he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

“—cks sake, Gavin, get out of your head and talk to me!”

Hank’s voice erupting around him — loud, booming, authoritative — was just startling enough to make him jump near-out of his skin, glitched-blue eyes scanning this way and that for the other android. Confusion penetrated through the fog of panic and his lungs stuttered, drawing in arguably too much air so he dismissed that warning, too. Hank wasn’t supposed to be here, and his sensors would have told him if the HK800 was around—

Or would they? Because they certainly didn’t seem to be working now, and he was failing the hunt—

“Gavin!”

”I’m here!” Gross, gross, he hated how shaky his voice came out. He forced his fingers away from his head, away from his hair and his hood.

”Fuckin’ better be.” There was no bite to it: it was just Hank being Hank. “Niles is fine, EMS got to him already. You need to calm down—“

”I’d fuckin’ love to see you do better,” he snapped out with no small amount of venom. “My partner was shot—”

”And mine’s dying somewhere by himself while you’re having a fucking panic attack!”

… Oh.

Well, that put things into perspective.

Somewhere, in his HUD, he could pull up the last recorded stress level of his fellow android. He had marked it in the mid-thirties, had marveled how Hank had managed to stay calm throughout this whole ordeal. Hank had seemed to be holding it together the best out of them all but—

Of course Hank would have been having a rough time. ‘Dad Mode’ wasn’t just a joke that Gavin liked to tease him with. From the way the HK800 would look out for Connor to all the times he’d catch Hank having to carry his wayward partner out because he’d passed the hell out at work again. He’d practically adopted Connor just as Gavin had adopted Niles, even if there might be some slight differences to how they each viewed their partners.

“So if you’re fucking done having a pity party, take a moment to god damn breath! Because you’re the only one right now who can find this sonuvabitch!”

”It’s not a pity party, my programming’s trying to—“

”Fuck your programming! You’ve been a deviant since the start, tell it to fuck off like always!”

Gavin couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that bubbled out of him. That was such a Hank-ish solution to an overly complex problem that neither clearly wanted to deal with that very moment.

Not that he didn’t appreciate it. There was something undeniably refreshing about this particular method of grounding. Maybe it was simply because this was the nature of their relationship, maybe it was the gruff tenderness that was hiding beneath the facade behind the aggression.

”I’m trying to.” Gavin scrubbed furiously at his eyes, wiped the saline solution out of the way so he could focus with a clearer, crisper image and follow along that damnable blood trail again. But… “… Hank, what if I lose it again?”

”You won’t. If they couldn’t keep you as a machine before, that ain’t changing anytime soon.”

He didn’t have the confidence in himself to believe that. Not with how thoroughly things had taken over just because of how angry he’d gotten.

But he had to try. And if he couldn’t, then Hank and Niles’ confidence in him had to mean something instead. And maybe, just maybe, that would work for now.

Now, though, as he found himself suspiciously close to the damnable art gallery that had been the starting point of this whole debacle. Gavin furrowed his brows as he scanned the area, cursing at the distinct lack of blood here when he knew that this was where Owen’s trail had gone. There was nowhere else, no footprints, no blood splatters, this was the end of the road.

So where was Owen?

His eyes fell on the camera above the gallery’s back door, felt a bubble of irritation that the thing was still offline and couldn’t be tapped into. The pallet he’d kicked apart hadn’t been looked at, let alone moved. His fingers itched, curled tight into fists as he searched for something out of the ordinary. Except there wasn’t and it was—

His gaze latched on as his scanners focused on the door of the art gallery. Stepping forward towards it, his lips curled up into a faint smirk at the barest-there speck of blood on the handle.

”Hey, Hank,” he called over their open connection. “North said she was friends with the gallery owner, yeah?”

”Yeah. Markus Manfred. Why?”

All the invitation he needed, really, before Gavin took one step back and booted the door open on one swift move (“Gavin!” “It’s probable cause!”). And there were his signs of the trail continuing, all the way down a set of stairs that undoubtedly led the way into a basement. He furrowed his brows, creeping as quietly as he could manage into the unknown. His fingers twitched: he should have asked Niles for his gun or at least taken the one Owen had to give up.

Going underground, he relayed cybernetically to Hank, keeping his mouth shut. I’ll probably lose connection with you here.

“Gavin, the fuck do you mean? Gavin!”

He cut the connection there. He needed to focus.

The gallery basement was about what he expected. A place hidden from visiting patrons, a lot of works that were either unfinished, unframed, or part of a more private collection. It smelled musty, but from what he could tell, there was no moisture, no weird amounts of metal. The floor was a nice wood that he could tell, probably expensive. The walls were stone. The barely-there hum of an HVAC system suggested humidity and temperature were well controlled here.

The android furrowed his brows as he looked around, his scanners and proximity alerts deceptively quiet in the wake of following a god damn serial killer down here. He was starting to wish they had shot Owen somewhere that could bleed a bit more.

At least until he found the maintenance office with its wide-open door and… no Owen still.

”Oh, come the fuck on,” he groaned, thunking his head against the doorframe. Think, he told himself. Humans didn’t just vanish into thin air. Blood didn’t evaporate. He was Cyberlife’s most advanced android ever created, it should not be this easy to escape him.

Searching the place yielded nothing of interest. A maintenance schedule — Owen’s, perhaps — and a lone computer that had nothing interesting on it. A singular locker, a singular chair. Both tucked into the corner of the room.

Nothing out of the ordinary here.

There was a boiler room, and the last place he could check short of rampaging through the gallery next, and he didn’t think he’d be able to justify that one quite so well. A water heater stood attached to the wall on one side and a series of unnamed metal boxes hung on the other. It was two crates of android parts that caught his eye, both listed for a caretaker model that had gone out of commission a decade ago.

Questions, questions, and more questions, but it was the sound of creaking wood beneath his foot that had him curious enough to push them aside to reveal the trap door beneath.

—

“Gavin, the fuck do you mean? Gavin!”

Niles did his best not to flinch as Hank snapped out a curse, let his arm be maneuvered this way and that by emergency services and CSI collected what evidence they needed. That left him very much alone with his own thoughts, barely paying attention to Logan as his brother hovered closer to North and, presumably, Markus himself. Back-up had trickled in shortly after Gavin had left the scene with his captain showing up minutes later with her strange little entourage.

He felt pathetic. Useless.

When the paramedics stepped away, he gripped at his shoulder, let the sting of pain keep him grounded and shove down the clawing tightness that threatened to suffocate him once more.

Useless.

He’d had to let Gavin continue the chase, alone, and back-up hadn’t been able to catch up with him. Hank had been doing his best to provide updates via Gavin’s GPS signal, keeping him on the phone (and talking him down, it sounded like earlier) until… well, now. Now it seemed Gavin had gone dark, with his last known location being the Manfred gallery.

Niles scrubbed his hand down his face, let himself lean heavily against the side of the open doors as exhaustion and blood loss weighed heavily on his aching shoulders.

He couldn’t allow himself to fall. Not just yet.

The paramedic truck bounced, just slightly, as a weight sat beside him with a heavy sigh. He squinted his ice-blue eyes over to Logan and the jacket he held out in offer, taking it gratefully and sliding it over his shoulders. It did wonders to combat the growing chill seeping into his bones.

”What if he’s already dead?”

Logan, who sat there staring at the ground, leaning heavily over his knees. Even with the variety of red-and-blue lights in the area, he could see the bags under his eyes that had manifested within the last two days. The voice he’d said it in had barely been there, the smallest he had ever heard since a decade ago.

”He’s not dead,” Niles replied, sitting up just a little bit straighter with only a small wince.

“Gav said he was injured,” his brother continued, and it was a strange sight to see how much Logan was deflating. “That he wasn’t breathing right in… whatever video you guys got. If his lungs got punctured, there’s no way he’s still… “

He wanted to refute the claim. That there was no way Connor would be taken out this easily, this suddenly, from their lives. He had survived much worse, would continue to survive and come home to force them into some awkward arrangement of a family get-together that they all secretly loved but liked to give him hell for. That this was Connor, who since the age of eighteen years old had become their primary guardian and ensured they were both able to follow whatever path they wanted.

Connor was their big brother.

Connor was always strong.

But he was reaching the end of his rope and it gnawed at his throat, clawed deep inside and stole whatever words he could manage to come up with. Maybe it was the level of pain he still had in his shoulder that was dragging the optimism out of him and leaving it flayed on the side of the road. He couldn't help but see the differences between Then and Now. Then, they hadn't been given a cryptic series of notes. They hadn't been put on a time limit, with a serial killer that had decided to change how he operated.

This situation was nothing like it was a decade ago. A decade ago they hadn’t been taunted with video of Connor, barely breathing. A decade ago they had found him bruised at worst.

Connor might be dead when they find him.

It was a high probability.

“Statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.”

Both brothers looked up as Hank approached, the android wearing a weak, if wry, smile as he stood before them.

”That’s what he’s always saying, isn’t it?” Hank continued with the barest hint of a half shrug. “Things might look grim and all, but you don't know until you see the results with your own eyes. Hell, I can’t tell you how many times all the predictions my software’s done went out the window because of him.”

“‘Grim’ is an understatement,” Logan remarked with no small amount of dryness, of despair that was clearly surging forth and choking him as much as it was Niles. “You know what kind of complications he could have developed? A shit ton, all of them ass and all of them fatal in minutes.”

”I don't think you really want me to list them… “

”Maybe you fucking should so we can get used to the idea!” The technician heaved out a breath, a broken noise that wasn’t quite a sob, and Niles tried to wrap his good arm around Logan’s shoulder. “Because no one’s been able to do shit about it, anyway! Not me, not Niles, not you, no one! So why not get used to the fucking idea that I’m not gonna have a fucking doppleganger anymore?!”

It hurt to admit, to even think about it in passing. The idea that there was a chance Connor would no longer be in their lives was a dark possibility, hovering there in the peripheral, where Niles could refuse to acknowledge it and ignore it by throwing himself into trying to solve the case. Because trying to think about it, allowing the thought to gain a foothold to fester and grow and wind its way into his heart, would knock the wind out of him. He wouldn’t be able to breathe again. They had already lost far too much, far too soon.

”Aha!”

Tina’s exclamation drew the gaze of all three of them. She blinked right back when she realized it, flushing just a hint as the PM700 held up the quarter she had caught with just two fingers with a sheepish grin.

”Sorry. I, uh… “ She cleared her throat, straightening up, adjusting her hat before finally approaching them properly. “I’m still practicing the tricks he taught me. Connor, that is. Ehm.” She placed the quarter between her thumb and index finger, rolling it slowly over her knuckles. “I’ve been getting a lot better, and I think I’m ready to show him. So.” But it was here her eyes grew glassy, and if Niles hadn’t seen an android cry before, he would have almost certainly been bewildered. “S-So he has to be alive. That way I can show him that I’ve mastered his stupid trick and I’ve done it better because I’m an android.”

Between the choked laugh from Logan and the pained smile from Hank, there was no way any of them were going to say anything against that as they all drew together, arms wrapped and tangled together in a messy hug to keep them all from falling apart.

Chapter Text

Smell, water, metal. Now, as he found himself walking through a utility tunnel beneath the concrete jungle overhead, Gavin realized he could finally understand.

Maybe not the smell part. He wasn’t built with those particular sensors in mind (and he would never complain about it). Hearing the soft dripping of water here and there accompanied by a small rush of a buried creek, the tap-tap of metal grates beneath his feet, was his second clue. Well, not quite clue. A clue enough.

His original goal had been to continue tracking Owen, which he did, landing him down here to a mess of evaporated thirium from an obscene amount of androids. There was blood, too, that he could see. Terry Cooper’s stuck out like a sore thumb over the floor grates, and Gavin added the task of finding him to his list of superhero missions while he was down here. The family deserved closure, and they’d fucking get it if he got his way.

Owen’s trail was frustratingly cold now and Gavin wasn’t sure if he wanted to yell or scream more. Perhaps a bit of both.

But then there was Connor’s blood and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say his thirium froze.

”C’mon, meatbag, you’d better be fucking alive,” he hissed under his breath as he switched his target prioities, followed the trail he could see and not the one he couldn’t. Would it suck for Owen to get away? Absolutely it would, but he wasn’t the priority. He wasn’t the target that Niles had begged him to find.

He had no idea where he was and his GPS signal wasn’t working. He would have downloaded a map of the place if he’d known he was going to be traipsing underneath Detroit. All he could really count on was his memory and his ability to track a target, maybe also the little hints of his own thirium he left with each pressed finger he could. If only Hank’s eyes were fixed already so he didn’t feel like he was going to his doom. This place, this situation, was something out of one of those cheesy horror movies that Logan loved to watch.

He may have underestimated the severity of the main characters’ situations.

Connor’s blood wasn’t more than an hour old, give or take some minutes. A silver lining in the shithole if not for the fact that the trail was leading him further into the tunnel, keeping his stress levels steady at an uncomfortable 65%. A part of him half expected, as illogical and impossible as it was, for some sort of ghoul or ghost to pop out of nowhere.

What he wouldn’t do for Niles to be here right now. Or a gun. Preferably a gun, even if his partner came in at a close second.

He really should have grabbed it.

”I swear to fucking god or ra9 or who-the-fuck-ever, Owen,” he yelled out, “if you jump out of the fucking shadows, you’re as good as dead!”

That helped settle his nerves, just a little bit.

The very decidedly loud thump! and clang of metal rattling and shaking very decidedly did not.

Did he scream? No, absolutely the fuck no he did not and no one could prove otherwise.

Gavin forced out a steadying breath as he eyed the decidedly dead android that had dropped out of nowhere. No, he realized, not nowhere, but in a crevice in the wall, shoved as if it was just a piece of gum that could stick there forever. It made him wrinkle his nose in disgust.

What was worse was the display around the corner. It was no pro set-up, not with the work lights being used to illuminate the singular chair sat up against a concrete wall. Another android body lay sprawled on the ground just in front of it: the AP700 from the original video. The mix of blood from the dead officer and all the thirium made him really, really reluctant to go out of his way to try and identify which belonged to who and if Connor’s was even in the area, or if a trail existed at all still.

“Fucking dammit,” he grumbled under his breath as he knelt down, swiping a sample for testing and analyzing once more. A lot of Terry Cooper’s, which meant this was very likely his murder scene. No Owen, but he didn’t expect that, and—

His proximity alarms went off.

He was darting for cover the millisecond before the gunshot went off, spinning on his heel as he ran calculations and predictions on where the shot had even come from. With the trajectory calculated, it was easy enough to dodge the second shot, eyes locking onto Owen’s as the human hissed out a curse.

”Not gonna work, you fuck!” Gavin snarled, closing the distance quickly between them as he reached out to grab hold of that gun, control it, rip it away from Owen. The third shot had him dodging on instinct.

The aim was wrong, the trajectory flying elsewhere. A familiar voice cried out.

Gavin froze on the spot as he saw where the gun had fired, where Owen was aiming the damnable thing at Connor.

Connor, who was curling in on himself, arms pressed to a growing spot of crimson on his filthy white shirt, the awful, horrifying sound of his blood dripping through the metal grates of the floor.

Who no longer had hours but now only minutes.

”It would appear our time together will be growing short,” Owen stated so matter of factly that Gavin didn’t know what to think.

This had to be how Owen got away the first time.

”Since your detective failed to solve my case, I shall have to bring this one to a close.”

”Solve your—?” Gavin felt his thoughts buzzing, his stress levels climbing again. “The case with your mother? That was solved!”

A fourth shot directed his way told Gavin that he had no future as a negotiator, even if he could dodge bullets.

”It was not!” Owen spat, his calm facade gone as his features contorted with a manic sort of rage. “She was killed and no one has wanted to take it seriously for ten years!”

All the responses he could come up with and Gavin wanted to say none of them. Not while Connor was curled there bleeding out from his gut and whatever else. Primary Objective was to get Connor home and he didn’t need anyone to explicitly state that he needed to ensure he was kept alive. Alive so Niles and Logan and Hank (and maybe also himself) could all go home to Sumo and wrap up with the world’s softest, stupidest-looking blankets known to mankind because they fucking deserved it after all of this.

“Okay,” the android conceded, doing his best to control the colour of his LED, forcing it to cycle blue and stay blue. Keep his eyes on Owen, keep Connor’s vitals in his peripherals where he could monitor them. Identify the fucking gun, finally: a Colt Cobra. What could he find about it? “My mistake.”

“You machines are always making mistakes! Over and over and over again!”

His connection was shoddy at best down here, but his database at least held some information. Six-chamber gun with four shots fired from the gun in total. If he assumed Owen hadn’t had a chance to reload it, which may or may not be likely, then counting the one he got off on Niles, that meant five rounds had been used.

If. If Owen hadn’t had a chance to reload it.

“Yeah, we’re pretty dumb like that,” Gavin admitted, trying not to grind his teeth with it. “Guessing you’ve got some bad experiences there.” Empathize, try to fucking empathize.

“It was an android that killed her!” Owen seethed. “Because someone tampered with it and made it kill her! ” He barked out a humourless laugh. “And that shouldn’t have been possible, now, should it? Cyberlife swore, up and down, that its programming was fine, that it was perfect . That the only reason it had shut down at all was because it had gotten damaged. ” Gavin tried not to bristle as the gun was pointed right back at Connor.

“Someone was listening to you, though, right?” Gavin took a step forward, LED blinking yellow for just a moment as the gun was trained right back on him before settling on blue. That was good. Gun away from Connor was good. “Whossit… that guy, Robert Lambert. The rookie cop from Lansing?”

The pause from the man was unnerving at best, serving only to increase his nerves, his stress levels. Silence was bad. Silence meant Owen had time to think, time to change his mind. Talking kept him occupied for…

For what, Gavin didn’t know. For the off chance that someone would save them in time to get Connor out of here alive. His sensors were infuriatingly silent and he had never, in his short life, wished more for Niles to jump out of the shadows into the scene where he very much did not belong. At least that would mean he had backup.

“Robert… yes, I remember him,” Owen started again softly, quietly, before breaking into a sneer. “He promised he would look into things. Get me the updates I wanted, tell me all about how the case was progressing.” The gun was swiftly pointed at Connor once more and Gavin had to resist every fiber of his being to lunge out to stop it. “But then he lied just like all the rest!”

“He was a rookie cop! He didn’t know any better!”

“Oh, please! He wasn’t so new! He was top of his academy class! And to add to it all, he avoided my calls, avoided me every time I tried to confront him at his own station!”

Gavin’s heart leapt into his throat as Owen’s finger started to squeeze on the trigger, alarms and bells and all the warnings and errors scattering across his HUD as he tried to think, think, think as his stress skyrocketed beyond his control—

“And each of them was the same! Every single one of them, promising what they couldn’t promise, letting their hubris get the better of them! Lying to me as if I was stupid!” Another laugh escaped Owen, at least he thought it was a laugh, but it came off to manic, so painfully out of touch, and everything wrong with the man. He couldn’t be reasoned with, Gavin was realizing, and he couldn’t think of any other way to stop him. “The world is far better off without more of Robert Lambert!”

Connor was going to die because he couldn’t think, couldn’t stop one madman—

But he didn’t need to think, he soon realized, as once more did his sensors light up in his HUD. Gavin was starting to be very glad he was designed the way he was, that his sensors were so hypersensitive.

In the same instance a raging, near-flying hunk of HK800 came swinging out around the corner at Owen, the sound of a rifle shot near-deafening in the damnable tunnel as a burst of red erupted from Owen’s arm. The man yelped in surprised agony, effortlessly brought into a clinch hold as Hank wrapped his arm around his neck and into the ground.

Gavin bolted for and draped himself across Connor’s head, his torso, on hands and knees ready to use his body as a fucking shield while pressing into that way-too-big mess of crimson on his stomach, his thirium pump pulsing wildly in his chest as he watched Hank effortlessly pin Owen’s hands behind his back. Then North was coming from around fuck knows where with a sniper rifle , other officers following suit with guns and vests and he was pretty sure EMS was somewhere in there.

Gavin didn’t contain the nervous bubble of a laugh that escaped him as he met Hank’s cloudy gaze, as North’s glassy eyes gave way to sheer and utter relief.

“We got him,” she declared into her radio.

Chapter Text

“We got him,” North’s voice crackled over the radio, and it was the only thing that mattered. Just those three words in a sea of radio codes and commands, orders and assurances. Niles was sure his name was said somewhere, that someone was vying for his attention. Tina was openly sobbing on his right, arms wrapped tight around his torso. Logan was barely any better on his left, thick tears spilling down his cheeks in stubborn torrents no matter how much he tried to wipe them away. Whether it was his own injury or the sheer weight that had fallen off their shoulders, Niles could focus on nothing else after that.

He pushed away from Hank and Tina both as he made his way to the entrance, fought through the haze and the exhaustion trying to pull him down. Determined, at all costs, to lay his eyes on Connor, shrugging off Hank’s and Logan’s touch as they tried to hold him back, keep him by the ambulance that was there for him.

The backdoor of the gallery burst open with no small amount of chaos. EMS personnel were yelling at each other as they darted straight past them, gloves coated in blood and demanding passage through to the second ambulance. Gavin was being held back by Hank, his LED bright red and his gaze distant while the larger android was looking him over. 

There was so much blood.

Logan beat him to Connor’s side, his twin’s name a mantra on his lips and practically fighting against the EMS techs to keep close until they conceded to allow him to load up in the ambulance with them. There was little time for a reunion, no more than a barely-there smile flashed Niles’ way before machines screamed and there was a more frantic energy to the paramedic’s steps. Bay doors slammed shut, the roadway was cleared, and the ambulance containing his brother was peeling out with two marked units to escort it.

“C’mon,” a voice said, and it took him a moment to realize it was Tina on his arm, trying to escort him herself. “You have to go, too.”

He didn’t remember his own ride in the ambulance. One moment he was climbing on the gurney, and the next he was blinking up at too-bright lights and several blurry faces, flashes of Cyberlife blue and he was pretty sure he heard Gavin yelling. He shut his eyes when it all started to make him dizzy, nauseous.

Things were much calmer the second time he opened his eyes. He felt an awful lot like he was floating in a haze. The faint, almost monotonous, beeping inside of his designated room was threatening to lull him back under. He could recognize he was on a bed, and that his shoulder surprisingly did not hurt anymore. On his left he could see an empty space where a bed should be.

”He’s still in surgery.”

Niles blinked at the sound of Gavin’s voice, searching and falling on the android that he hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room. He wasn’t in his traditional white jacket, replaced instead with someone’s DPD jacket instead. It was a little strange to see, particularly as there was no hood to pull up over Gavin’s short hair.

”Couple hours now,” Gavin continued, pushing off the wall and coming to sit on the edge of Niles’ bed instead. “Your dumb ass almost went into shock, too. Bullet never went through so they had to take it out.”

That would explain… some of it. His attempt to sit up was met with no small amount of struggle and a realization that his right arm was very much stuck in a sling, likely to prevent him from moving it. Gavin, thankfully, reached over to help him manage it. As he swung his legs over to the edge of the bed, however, the android’s frown deepened.

”I won’t get up,” he assured, wincing at how hoarse his voice came out. “Just… “ It was too much to lay down when he didn’t even know what was happening. He had to know about Connor. “… how bad was he?”

”Don't fucking—“ Gavin started, only to cut himself off once he met Niles’ gaze. Silence held for a few seconds between them before the android heaved out a sigh and deflated. His hands fell between his knees as he slumped, looking the most defeated Niles had seen him since their partnership together. “… Pretty fucking bad. Owen shot him in the stomach. And yeah, like we guessed, he had a couple broken ribs that punctured one of his lungs. Didn’t exactly help having to put pressure on him.”

He may as well have had needles in his throat with how the emotions were feeling. It was awfully hard to resist the urge to get swallowed up by the floor.

”He was right there.”

”… Mm.”

”The whole fucking time.”

Niles bit down hard on his lower lip to keep it from trembling, raised his hand to wipe at his burning eyes as he kept to silence. Silence that was only broken by a set of shoes clicking against the ground as the both of them looked up to Hank. Not quite stoic — there was pain in the HK800’s eyes, pain you saw when you had to wait and hear if your family was going to make it out of surgery alive. Uncertainty was a new emotion for both, Niles was almost certain, but where Gavin’s responses were often much more emotional, Hank was much more subdued like himself.

There were no words exchanged and yet it felt like so many were. With Hank’s sky blue eyes looking down at the both of them, his brows knit together and concern filtering in with something else. Something that made his heart twist in on itself and crumble, something that made emotions swell and swirl and choke him.

They had to have missed something vital. Something obvious, something that could have ended this whole charade much sooner. A missed piece of evidence, a clue, some speck of something that should have caught their eyes. 

Perhaps then Connor wouldn’t have been in so much pain for entirely too long. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t be fighting for his life now.

Perhaps Logan wouldn’t have had to see another member of their family about to die. 

Perhaps Niles wouldn’t have to wonder if he was ever going to hear Connor’s voice again.

Gavin broke first. Ugly and messy and heaving out sob after sob that it was no wonder Niles followed not long after. Biting his lip hard enough to bleed, trying to bury and scrub his face to no avail until Hank had them both wrapped up against his chest. Niles found himself burying into the android’s chest, gulping in air and fighting to keep his own emotions at bay and failing miserably. His shoulders trembled and shook, his chest rattling with the effort. 

“You kids did good,” Hank rumbled, squeezing and holding them together. “Don’t do this to yourselves, you did fucking good.”

It was hard to believe the statement. A part of him didn’t want to, to deny it screaming and raging and vehemently. Deny it up to the heavens because how on earth could this outcome be considered good? How could Connor on the precipice of death be good?

“You got him home. He’ll fucking survive because he always does.” Hank was still going, still murmuring in their ear, still holding them together as they collapsed into pieces. “It’s not your fault, don't you dare blame yourselves.”

Over and over the mantra washed over them until maybe, just maybe, Niles might have been able to believe it a little bit.

Chapter Text

They were the only ones in the waiting room. It was an almost surreal experience, a sharp juxtaposition of Then versus Now.

Then, it had been a simple matter. They had been brought to the station in a patrol car — Niles, just barely in his second year of college. Logan, barely starting his internship at a Cyberlife repair center. Both of them had been scared out of their minds for the better part of the week, and Logan had done his best to try and be strong for the both of them. He’d been awful at it, but Niles had appreciated the effort for what it was. And when they saw Connor sitting in the back of an ambulance at the station, wrapped up in a rescue blanket that could barely provide him with the warmth they needed, they had been able to see him right away. Clinging, hugging, resisting the urge for all of them to outright bawl right then and there in front of all of Connor’s colleagues and Captain, just grateful to be able to bring him home.

Now, it wasn’t so simple. Now he and Logan sat in a far corner of the waiting room — after much convincing of the medical staff on Niles’ part — away from the ever-growing group of officers from Central Station. Hank had joined him once he and Gavin had cleaned themselves up and changed their clothes. Tina sat next to Gavin with Connor’s coin in hand, having long-since run out of the energy to keep trying to practice and instead rubbing her thumb against its ridges. Occasionally an officer would come up to Niles and Logan both — offering well-wishes or thoughts of prayer, depending on the individual. Chris Miller and his wife had offered to check in on Sumo for them after the first hour, and they had returned in two to let them know the old dog was doing alright.

North had joined them in their little bubble not too long, bringing with her Simon and, once more, Markus Manfred. It struck him as an odd sight, seeing the three of them together — he was familiar with Simon, of course, and had deduced that he and North knew each other outside of the workplace. It seemed, apparently, that she knew the painter as well.

”I’m sorry.”

The foreign voice was enough to have both Niles and Logan look up to find Markus standing before them. His mismatched eyes held such sorrow, such guilt, that felt misplaced on the man’s features twisted to match.

”Owen Carter was our employee,” he continued, wringing his hands for a few moments like he didn’t know what to do with them. “We should have been more diligent in our checks of his workspace.”

”Yeah. You should have,” Logan spat, venom-laced hurt in his tone that made Markus flinch. Niles set a hand on his older brother’s, squeezed gently until the tension had faded from his form.

”You couldn’t have known,” Niles replied, voice soft, lifting his gaze up to face the gallery owner. “No one ever expects a killer to be hiding in their midst.”

As much as Niles wished he could have the same, emotional venom that Logan wore like an armour, it wasn’t productive. It wasn’t helpful. He wasn’t an emotional person by default, and in just two days he’d had his emotions wrung out of him with all the violence befitting of someone trying to squeeze every last drop of water out of a towel. He was exhausted. He couldn’t do it. Having a hole in his shoulder didn’t help.

”You’re… probably right.” Markus gave a weak chuckle, and Niles recognized it for how forced it was. A nervous laugh at best. “He had seemed a little odd, but… he was a maintenance man. He kept to himself and he took care of the gallery’s needs as well as Carl when I couldn’t. I still can’t help but to feel some responsibility.”

“Your guilt is misplaced, but… it is appreciated.”

Now, then, Niles could see the barest hint of a smile and a slight release of Markus’ tension. He was a good man, a lot more down-to-earth than he had admittedly expected of an art gallery owner. But he was, all the same, genuinely appreciative of it. It was better than the platitudes uttered by all their colleagues at the station, as if half of them didn’t spend most of their time making Connor’s existence as unwelcome as they could get away with.

Though that didn’t negate the surprise of having Markus Manfred pull out a card and hand write his personal number on the back of it.

”If there’s anything at all that you need, let me know,” he insisted.

And how could he refuse when the man looked so earnest? It required him to release Logan’s hand but once he’d taken the card and tucked it away into a pocket, Markus seemed satisfied.

”It goes without saying that you have the station’s support,” North spoke up before she gave a soft snort. “For what it’s worth, anyway. If no one else steps up, you know I will.”

”Thank you, Captain.”

There was the briefest bubble of confusion in the haze of melancholy when Markus gave a poorly-concealed chuckle and Simon was grinning fondly, both turning their gaze away from the scowl North sent their way.

There was little time to question it, however, before a set of footprints broke through their attention. All eyes turned on the surgeon that stepped in, and Niles and Logan were on their feet near-instantly at the sight. It was enough to give the woman pause.

”I’m guessing you are the family of Connor Anderson,” the surgeon said, looking between the brothers. They both nodded, and Niles decided right then and there that he hated how deceptively neutral her expression was. The surgeon glanced around the room, from Hank and Gavin to Markus to North to the rest of the officers waiting. “Is it okay here or… ?”

”Just say it,” Logan stated before Niles could, saying the first words he had since they had reunited in the room. “How bad is he?”

The surgeon looked hesitant, glancing around once more before she seemed to find her resolve. It was almost funny how intimidating she could look, as small a woman as she was, and Niles didn’t doubt they’d likely dwarf her if they both stood.

”I won’t lie,” she started softly. “It’s quite bad. One of his ribs did end up puncturing his lung and causing a tension pneumothorax — a pocket of air between his lung and his chest wall, if you will — that we caught while he was on the table. We were able to treat it, and for now we can only monitor to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

”Jesus,” Hank muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“It is admittedly not the worst of his injuries.” The surgeon took a pause for a moment, shifting a bit on the spot before she continued. “His GSW to the abdomen, perhaps predictably, caused the most complications. It ended up piercing his small intestine and the middle colic artery, and he ultimately lost quite a bit of blood. His risk for infection is quite high, given his circumstances, to top it off.”

“So he might die is what you’re saying.” The bluntless of Logan’s statement made Niles flinch, even as his brother took the moment to squeeze his arm for comfort.

”There is a high risk.”

And wasn’t that just the icing on the shittiest cake they’d been delivered. Niles tugged Logan in close when the technician hissed out a curse, squeezed him in the one-armed hug he could manage at the moment. He hated being on this side — the side of the family, being told whether or not they were going to go home to some semblance of normalcy or if their lives were going to be irreversibly changed.

”These next few hours will be critical,” the surgeon continued, her voice taking on a softer tone. She didn’t smile, but she also didn’t shy away from Niles’ gaze. “I will be here all night to help monitor him. If anything happens, I will be the first one in that room to stabilize him.”

Somehow, just a little, Niles felt a bit more confident with that assurance.

”Thank you, Doctor… ?” He couldn’t spot a nametag, not right away.

”Hanakawa,” she provided, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “But you may call me Akino.”

”Thank you, Akino.”

Visiting hours were long over but they were, perhaps expectedly, allowed to remain. North and the officers of the station were required to return to work (Chris once more offered his support and they had conceded to give him and his wife the key to the house at his insistence so Sumo could be cared for). Hank and Gavin had decided to remain in the building but allow them space to ‘decompress’ (“You’ve both been up to your eyeballs in people for hours,” Hank had said. “Just call us if you need us.”) Markus and Simon had offered to gather some food for them once they all realized it had been almost eight hours since anyone’s last meal.

It was another few hours before they were allowed to the room Connor had been placed in. 

The ICU itself was frustratingly, though perhaps expectedly, quiet, and the room they were led to even more so save for the amount of machines humming and beeping with all their infuriatingly clinical vitals. Niles found himself irrationally annoyed with it all, irrationally afraid of seeing Connor in that too-white bed with too many cables and sensors all over him, damnable ventilator of all things shoved down his throat just to keep him breathing while the anesthesia worked through his system.

Click! and his chest would rise and fall. Rinse and repeat every few cycles. Mechanical. Methodical.

Logan had his chair up against the side of the bed, never letting go of Connor’s hand, never looking up. As kids they had been joined at the hip, almost always seen together and almost always causing mischief and a headache for their parents. They had drifted somewhat as they grew older, moving on to different fields and interests, particularly as Connor matured and took on the role of primary income and Logan focused on his studies. They fought just as much as if not more than they did with Niles, harmless things expected of identical twins (and sometimes bad enough he had to play middleman, but it always ended with someone apologizing).

“It’s fucking weird,” Logan spoke up quietly, brown eyes dull and drained as he kept idly stroking at Connor’s knuckles. “He’s never this still. Not even when he’s sick.”

”Especially not when he’s sick,” Niles agreed softly, sagging some into his own chair and trying to get comfortable.

”Dad was like that. Always had to do something with his hands or he’d drive Mom crazy.” They hadn’t talked about their parents in so long. Niles wondered if Logan was reminiscing or just trying to fill the silence. He didn’t begrudge him either. “And then we discovered Con was like that, too, and all they ever did was find all sorts of tricks they could do with their hands.”

”… Remember the darts phase?” Niles offered up, lips curling faintly at the weak laugh Logan let out. “Mom was furious when they got them stuck in the ceiling.”

”Aren’t they still there?”

”Mhm. Above the stairs.”

”Hah!”

Niles chuckled some, wincing as the motion pulled on his injured shoulder. He grimaced, pressing gently into it to help ease some of the pressure while he adjusted.

”They gonna haul your ass back downstairs?” Logan asked, and Niles didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed when he shook his head. “So you’re here to stay.”

”I signed myself out,” he admitted quietly.

”Niles—“

”It isn’t bad.”

”You were shot.”

”I don't want to be alone down there,” he admitted, and a part of him was pleased that the emotion hadn’t bubbled up inside him again. Maybe this was processing. Maybe he was just tired. “I want to be here when he wakes up.”

When. Because Connor would and to believe otherwise was unthinkable.

Logan only grumbled a little before relenting, but it wasn’t long before silence prevailed once more between them. Occasionally the silence was broken as they exchanged a memory, or plans once they were all home. What sort of treats they were going to get Sumo, what blankets they would use where and when. What Hank would likely do once they got home, how much Gavin was going to try and annoy Connor while they all watched some cheesy movie from the vast collection their parents had left behind. At some point they had to swap out with Hank and Gavin so they could go home and wash up, pack a bag of clothes for Connor for when he’d be able to get up and about on his own, give Sumo the biggest hugs he absolutely deserved for all the patience the big lug could have in this scenario.

The situation remained the same for the next two days. True to her word, Dr. Hanakawa checked in on them semi-regularly when her time allowed (though apologized when she missed one of her self-appointed check-in times, to which Niles and Logan both assured her it was more than fine). North forbade him from working on anything outside of filing old reports that Niles had neglected while Gavin fed him whatever information he couldn’t access remotely. Logan had, at some point, stepped out to fix Hank’s eyes and give the HK800 back his sight. They reluctantly left when someone from their list of companions came to whisk them away to get some form of sustenance. Sometimes Hank and Gavin stayed with them in the room and they either chattered quietly or stayed in companionable silence.

The third day was when things changed.

Niles had been returning from his mandated walk around the ward when he’d heard the alarms blaring from outside the room. Panic seized his heart as he burst through the door, practically ordering the nurses to help while he took stock of the scene — of Logan half-panicking, half fumbling in his efforts to try to calm a not-quite-coherent Connor that was fighting the ventilator.

He would gladly go many, many years without ever having to see this sight again.

”Connor, listen, hey.” Niles tried to cut through it all as he took Connor’s hand in his good one, squeezed, again and again only he had wide, terrified brown eyes staring at him and not wildly off in the distance. “Logan and I are here. Don't try to fight the ventilator: it’ll just be worse that way.”

It was a struggle and Niles couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t make it any easier the way Connor choked a couple more times against the damnable machine. He looked from Niles to Logan, tears streaming from his eyes, and when a nurse was able to remove the tube, Connor practically gasped for air like he’d just run a marathon.

”Fucking hell, you never do things half-assed,” Logan joked wearily, squeezing his twin’s hand for all it was worth, as Niles watched the weight of the world fall off of his shoulders.

Chapter Text

This wasn’t the calm before the storm. This was the calm after the storm and it felt weird as all hell.

He’d only been active for a few months now. His emotions were still new. His responses were, unfortunately, infantile in some regards. Big emotions were hard to handle, stress was hard to handle. Big emotions like joy and humour and laughter were easy to look up or interact with. Niles was admittedly a poor example of them, but Logan was more than sufficient when it came to them. Laughing at some comedy skit on TV, sharing some stupid thing that happened that day at work or elsewhere, or teasing one or all of the Anderson brothers. Getting into dumb little arguments with Connor just to get a reaction that had his lips curling up into a lopsided grin and a pleasant little buzz swelling inside his chest, or having a sparring match against Hank and coming out on top.

The negatives were a lot harder to deal with. Emotional agony, he was coming to terms with, was something he very much wanted to avoid. Seeing Niles and Logan fall apart at the seams throughout this whole ordeal, seeing the stress on North’s creating some of the most concerningly large bags under her eyes. The tightness in his chest that developed whenever he saw Niles on the verge of breaking apart, or the choking sensation he got when fear developed and clawed its way into his chassis. The inherent desire to self destruct — to tear himself apart or damage himself beyond repair just to make it all stop was something both unknown and terrifying to him.

He’d come damn close.

North had granted both Hank and him some time off these next few days as well so they could support their respective partners, but the strange look in her eye that he hadn’t been able to identify suggested there was more to it. Gavin had seen concern in her brown gaze as his Captain observed him, and the exchanged looks she and Hank had together when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Which was stupid. He practically had eyes on the back of his head with how many sensors were built into him.

(No amount of trying to convince Logan had gotten him to actually put some there, though.)

So he was left to his own devices while everyone else, seemingly, had better things to do. Reports to complete. Idiot brothers to feed. Doomscrolling to do on their phones. Gavin supposed he could have done that last one any time he wanted, but there had been no appeal.

So he’d just taken to watching over Niles. Helping him with whatever reports he decided to work on and just… being there for when he went walking around the ward. Just in case his idiot partner ended up collapsing, like there wasn’t a million and one nurses around that could catch his stupid ass.

Of course, that only mattered when they weren’t sitting together in Connor’s room. Waiting for Logan.

Or rather, Gavin was waiting for Logan. Niles was fucking asleep.

Out cold.

Passed the fuck out.

On his shoulder.

Like there wasn’t a perfectly good cot he could rest his head on instead.

And sure, Gavin could have totally just moved the younger detective off and away. Or nudged him. Or pushed him. Hell, even woken him up.

… but he wasn’t a monster.

He really could count on his hands how many hours Niles had gotten in the last couple of days. Gavin wasn’t even sure he slept to begin with while they waited for Connor to wake up. And when the young lieutenant finally did, it had been something of a sight to see the weight visibly fall off the brothers’ shoulders. 

Logan had yet to leave Connor’s side outside of restroom breaks and accepting some food. Always close, always holding his hand, always making sure he was touching his twin in some manner. Gavin, curiously, had done some research on identical twins: he didn’t quite understand the mysterious non-fact based assumptions that people seemed to have, but he couldn’t deny there was maybe a speck of truth to it.

Niles had never been the touchy-feely one of the brothers, but even he had stuck to Connor’s other side, taking on the more informative role of the trio whenever the older had a question he wanted to ask. He provided updates and light commentary, sharing status updates and even photos of Sumo when requested.

When Connor slept, the brothers slept or did something in the realm of self-care. And if they didn’t, then Hank or Chris or even Simon came to ensure that they did.

As if on cue, the door to the room slid open, bathing it temporarily in the bright, fluorescent lighting of the hallway as Hank stepped in with a bag of something. 

“Not a word,” Gavin shot at him cybernetically, squinting at his fellow android as the HK800’s lips curled while he observed the scene.

“I didn’t say anything,” came the reply.

He didn’t have to for Gavin to hear the teasing lilt of his tone.

He shoved the stupid overheating warning out of his sight before it even had a chance to manifest visually in his HUD.

“But if I did say something,” Hank continued, despite the slow, almost murderous, look that Gavin was trying to drill into his stupid grey skull, “I’d say you’re growing fond of him.”

“Shut up.”

“Again, not saying anything."

“It fucking counts like this!”

Oh, to wipe the smirk off the face of a cocky HK800 as Hank’s chuckle echoed in his head.

Gavin froze as Niles stirred, worry clawing at his chest before the human settled once more. He slowly, cautiously, let himself adjust so the dumb human was at least marginally less at risk of waking up with a sore neck.

“He fucking needs it, alright?” he fired back, making sure to put as much sass and venom as he could. Not that it worked to get Hank’s knowing grin off of his stupid face.

“Yeah, he did.”

That much they were in agreement on.

And maybe Gavin was being a little bit too prickly. Maybe it was easier to be prickly than to acknowledge any of the other emotions bubbling under the surface.

Like the way his biocomponents twisted into knots every time he saw how desperate Niles was to save Connor.

Like the way his thirium pump felt like it dropped every time Niles got hurt.

“What’s got your LED dancing?” Hank questioned after a time, and Gavin was starting to wonder if he’d be better off ripping the thing if everyone was going to be looking at it.

“Thinking.” Gavin held as straight a face as he could manage in the face of Hank before the uncomfortable urge to squirm under his knowing gaze. Who the fuck at Cyberlife decided to make an android with The Dad Look , he really wanted to know. “It’s not important.”

“Important enough to get you thinking.”

The GV900 tried not to heave out a sigh, not wanting to disturb the dumb human leaning on his dumb shoulder in this dumb room. “Emotions are weird and it feels weird not to be chasing someone anymore. The end.”

And if he had any more of those emotions when Hank set a hand atop his head, deliberately yet softly ruffling his synthetic hair, well…

That was just another emotion in a sea of emotions, he supposed. Gavin couldn’t deny the softness that melted into his chassis from it, the tension that bled out of his form with it. Now he let out a sigh softly, quietly, as he tipped his gaze up at Hank.

”How did you handle it?” he asked through their connection, grey eyes lifting up to his fellow android. “Deviating and shit and all the emotions that came with it.”

He was surprised when Hank hesitated here, watched the emotion flick across his aged expression along with no small amount of guilt. It was a question he had had for Hank for months now, since they had first discovered once another in that hidden Cyberlife lab. He had always seemed put-together, always the driving, grounding force behind the team where Connor, stupid ass that he was, just couldn’t keep it together in what Gavin figured was the most normal of circumstances.

Which was an unfair assessment, he realized now, but that was what it had been at first.

Now, seeing Hank’s gaze traveling towards Connor lying in that bed across from them, he was realizing that maybe his initial assessment had been wrong.

Rather than speak again, Hank held his hand out in offer, synthskin receding up to his wrist. Gavin hesitated for a moment before he slid one hand free, allowing the interface between them.

It was a torrent of files — memories, he belatedly corrected. Unlike the last time he tried to read Hank’s memories, these ones were crystal clear. From the first day he joined the DCPD and was assigned as Connor’s partner from Cyberlife (“He was fucking awkward.” “Good to know he never changed.”) to the various cases they worked together on, the rooftop chase after a deviant android, to the more simpler, domestic moments post-deviancy. Hank learning how to take care of the Oldsmobile, Hank setting dinner on fire and forcing the brothers to order takeout, Hank struggling to bathe Sumo in the backyard after the Saint Bernard rolled around in his most recent mud puddle.

Then there were the more subdued memories, the bad ones. The first time Hank experienced a failed case post-deviancy, the anguish he felt seeing a child android killed in a hostage situation. The stress he got watching Connor doing some death-defying feat, the sorrow he felt trying to calm his human partner from a panic attack. The rage he felt when the Andersons did something he couldn’t understand, that didn’t make sense, and the annoyance he had every time he watched the brothers argue amongst themselves.

Not all good emotions, but a lot of emotions.

It was overwhelming.

”Deviancy’s hard,” Hank finally spoke, breaking the interface for Gavin. “And it’s a lot. Shit, a lot of us are still learning how to deal with it. Best I can suggest is to take it one day at a time.” He nodded towards Niles on his shoulder, lips quirked up in a soft smile. “Rely on him a little if you gotta and be there when he needs you. He’ll teach you what you want to know so long as you’re willing to learn.”

Chapter Text

It was easier to find some light in the situation once the immediate danger had passed and Connor could be moved out of the ICU. Though he still spent most of his time sleeping the days away, and he likely had a long road ahead of physical therapy, the times he spent awake was a bit more coherent. Not quite the animated Connor they were used to, but awake and talking, conversing, even starting to fiddle lightly with some of the wires and nodes placed all over him.

Of course, pain medication being what they were, they still had a tendency to leave him fairly groggy upon waking up.

”You don't need to spend all day here,” Connor spoke up. Niles lifted his gaze, pausing the report he was working on. “You’re needed at the station.”

”I’m on desk duty,” Niles reminded, simply shrugging up his injured shoulder enough to catch his brother’s attention. An often enough reminder that, though frequent, he was used to having to repeat.

”… Oh. Right.”

Connor blinked blearily before raising a hand up, scrubbing uselessly at his eyes before it flopped down into the bedding, his strength gone as quickly as it appeared. Niles put down his tablet in favour of stepping over to the bed, placing the glass of ice chips within Connor’s reach. “I can hear you thinking.”

”I’m barely thinking,” his brother protested with a soft furrow of his brows.

”But still thinking.”

It was the little things that helped remind him this was real. That Connor was really here, in this room, awake and talking. The little quips they could still exchange, the barely-there smile that had made itself home upon his features. It was good to hear his voice again, to see him here and be able to touch him. It helped dissipate some of the anxiety, some of the disbelief that maybe this was all still some dream in a twisted reality.

“I’m just… “ Connor trailed off quietly, his brown gaze growing distant, not looking anywhere near Niles. “… processing, I guess. Everything that happened.”

Niles hesitated as he pulled his chair up to Connor’s side, his lips pressed thin as he worked up how to continue. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, a lot of questions he should ask. But they all felt like it was entirely too soon. “If it’s too hard to talk about it now… “

Regardless of his feelings on the matter, however, it seemed North’s entry was indicative of the need to progress things further. They had Owen in custody, and with Hank’s memory file as corrupted as it was, Connor’s testimony would be the most beneficial to ensure he stayed locked away.

“Don’t even think of trying to get up,” she warned as Connor started to shift in his seat. Her lips quirked up in a weak smile, relief plain on her features.

“Since when did I follow your orders?” Connor teased, matching her smile with a smirk.

North snorted out a laugh as she stepped aside, holding the door open still as if unsure if she should stay or leave. “You must be feeling better if you’re already sassing me. You okay with visitors?”

”Only if they’ve come to make Niles sleep.”

The younger detective fixed his older brother a deadpan, ice blue eyes meeting soulful brown.

Teasing aside, it really was good to have Connor regaining some life.

”Between the two of us, you were always the one with sleep problems,” Niles pointed out with a soft huff, making to help prop Connor up on pillows when he insisted on sitting up.

”Hard not to sleep when you’ve got a bullet hole in your stomach.” In spite of the dry response, Niles could hear the pain laced in Connor’s tone. It was a little hard to go quickly with one arm, but he was quick enough, and it helped when he could raise the bed as well. His eyes instinctually sought out the area, where he knew bandages were hidden beneath the hospital gown. Part of him expected to find crimson already, given how much Connor was moving. He just had to be careful to help him back against the—

“Hey.”

Niles blinked, raising his gaze to meet Connor’s. Tired from the exertion — expected, the doctor had warned them he would have a long road to recovery after this ordeal — but still maintaining a frustratingly stubborn, if weak, smile in the face of it. Like he was trying to comfort Niles instead of the other way around, his hand held out in offer.

And Niles, weak as he was, took the support.

“I don't mind visitors,” Connor replied finally, tipping his gaze over at North. He paused slightly before his shoulders sagged. “Are you here officially or personally?”

”… Both. Actually, there’s someone I’ve brought someone that wanted to have a word with you.” 

Markus soon stepped through the door, and Niles couldn’t help but wonder why he was here, now… and why he looked guiltier than he did the night they’d met in the emergency room. North tugged the only other chair available over to the other side of Connor’s bed, her gaze falling on Markus as the sole outlier became the focus of the group. Just watching him, decked out in clothes he very much recognized as various designer brands, shifting uncomfortably and looking unsure of himself was not an image he thought he’d see of Markus Manfred outside the first night they met.

”The hot nurse from earlier?” Connor blurted out.

Niles didn’t exactly mean to bark out a laugh, but the statement from his normally eloquent, put-together brother wasn’t what he expected would break the odd tension. The sheer level of confusion on Markus’ face, coupled with North’s snort of amusement, seemed to be enough to get Connor to register what he’d let slip. It had been a while since he’d seen the young lieutenant turn quite that shade of red from his ears down to his neck.

”I, uh… “ Markus cleared his throat to regain his composure. “Not quite. Although I can see how you’d think that.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I gave your other brother — Logan? — a hand the other day when he was trying to learn how to change out the bandages.”

”This is Markus Manfred,” North finally introduced, no small amount of mirth in her eyes. “He’s the gallery owner.”

And oh, how Niles wished either of the androids had been present to get a recording of this moment. At least at first, seeing the way Connor tried to sink into the blankets as if they could swallow him up from his shame, until he saw the glimmer of recognition in his eyes and some of that redness lost out to a growing nervousness.

”… Oh.”

He squeezed his older brother’s hand, reminding him of his presence. He flashed a reassuring smile when Connor looked over at him. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

The tension was back in the room. Everyone’s expression sobered quickly, silence prevailing as Markus struggled to get out the words he wanted to say. “Everyone has been saying I’m not responsible for Owen’s actions,” he started, gaze downcast at first before he lifted it up to meet Connor’s. “But he was my employee working in my gallery. So for what it’s worth, I am deeply, truly sorry for what you had to endure because of him. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it… ”

Connor remained silent, and Niles reluctantly kept quiet as he watched the thoughts run through his head. No matter how many times he and Logan had explained to Markus throughout the week, nothing seemed to assuage the weight of guilt that had settled firmly on Mr. Manfred’s shoulders. It was a guilt they had often seen in family members of violent criminals, one that wasn’t so easily torn apart by a few simple words and pointing out logical fallacies.

”You don't have anything to make up for,” came the eventual reply, soft, almost weary as Niles recognized his brother’s waning strength and unease. “It was my own fault for getting caught.”

“That’s not—!”

”Oooh, no. We’re not playing the blame game,” North spoke up, snapping her fingers to catch both of their attention. “There’s only one person to be blamed for this whole mess, and he’s sitting in a cell at the precinct until the FBI takes custody. Markus, I get why you feel responsible. Give it some time to work through: it’s only been a week.” Her gaze tipped over at Connor. “And you’re getting caught is nowhere near your fault.”

”I should have been smarter,” Connor countered. “I… wasn’t thinking. I thought Hank and I would have been enough—“

”You had no reason to believe otherwise. He’s one of the most advanced androids in existence: we still have to find out how Owen got the jump on him, let alone on both of you.”

”He was… He just looked like any other homeless man… “

Niles watched as the emotions flit rapidly across his brother’s face. Some were too quick to identify, but with the quickening beep of the heart rate monitor, he hardly had to guess which ones were more prevalent than others.

”Do you remember what he did to you?”

”Parts of it. He… didn’t try anything violent, I think?” Connor’s brows pinched together, raising his free hand to his head. He was trying to concentrate. “He broke my ribs when we… fought. He kept me in the dark. There were… he kept me tied with chains and drugs… “

His heart clenched hearing the anxiety penetrate into his brother’s voice, the too-tight way he was trying to keep it all at bay. This was already not an ideal situation: Connor had struggled with Then already: there were far too many unknowns and too many knowns for Now.

”Perhaps we should save questions for another time,” he suggested, looking over at his captain and Markus while giving Connor’s hand a gentle squeeze. “The nurses will return soon to change out his bandages.”

“No!” Connor interjected quickly, eyes a little wide as he forced Niles to pull his gaze towards him. “No, Niles, I can… I need to for the case—“ His gaze kept flicking to that heartrate monitor, as if he could somehow get it to quiet down with just a look.

Niles wanted to let him. He wanted to give Connor the autonomy he’d been denied for two days straight.

But… 

He squeezed his brother’s hand in his, lips pressing thin together as he glanced to North and met her concerned gaze. A testimony was important, but they couldn’t get one like this.

“After your bandages have been changed,” he insisted, almost pleading with the slightest quirk of his head. “You can take your time: you know this.”

And oh, how much it hurt to see the defeat in his older brother’s gaze. It wasn’t an emotion he saw often, and one he never felt belonged on Connor’s face. Niles winced faintly, making to stand and slowly releasing his hand just as the nurse stepped inside. While he knew what he had to do to help — had asked to be shown even with his arm still infuriatingly kept immobile — there was nothing he could do right then and there.

“Niles,” North spoke up, and he turned his gaze on her. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

He hesitated, glancing towards Connor as he spotted his fearful gaze. He didn’t want to leave him alone: they had established early on with the nurses that someone Connor trusted was to remain in the room as the bandages were changed to prevent any panic attacks from taking hold. He didn’t feel good about leaving him when his brother was already showing signs of anxiety.

“I’ll… I’ll be okay,” Connor insisted, and Niles knew a forced smile when he could see one. “You’ll be just outside.”

“If it’s alright, I can stay?” Markus offered as he looked between the brothers, though his gaze fell and held on Connor. “If you’re alright with that.”

“… S-Sure.”

“Right outside,” Niles assured, flashing what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Call for me if it gets to be too much.”

It didn’t feel good. Markus was still a virtual stranger, but the look on North’s face suggested it was something important. Connor, though conflicted, was trying to be strong.

He hated it. He just wanted to take care of his brother.

Chapter Text

“He lawyered up?”

Richard Perkins’ default expression was, as far as Gavin could tell, irritated. At the world, at people, at the speed of things, he certainly couldn’t tell. He knew the man disliked androids — that much was obvious from a mile away, and it was a common enough attitude that he simply did not give enough of a fuck to let it bother him — but it seemed he had a new target for his disdain for the time being.

Owen Carter.

The man that had eluded law enforcement for almost a decade, had come out of the shadows to enact some form of vengeance. They had found Connor before their time was up.

Now they had to find the other victims.

”Not exactly,” Hank spoke up, an irritated sigh of his own escaping the HK800. “He’s refusing to speak to anyone but Niles. Says it’s either him or no one else.”

”Utter bullshit,” Richard hissed out, narrowed glare peering through the one-way glass into the interrogation room they held their charge. “He’s not that stupid to think we would allow that. We don't make deals with serial killers, least of all when they’re cop killers.”

Gavin’s gaze held on the man in the other room. Owen Carter was the picture of calm now, his hands cuffed to the table in front of him. They had removed the LED on the side of his temple — nothing more than something he’d stuck there with the use of some adhesive that washed away with warm water. In the pale, fluorescent light of the interrogation room, Owen Carter looked like an ordinary maintenance man. He was humming softly to himself, eyes closed, swaying to the beat of a song that only he could hear.

If Gavin had real skin, he was sure it would be crawling by now.

“You can’t just not work with him,” Hank insisted, gesturing towards the other room. “We’ve seen the files: he’s the only one who knows where any of the bodies are.”

”What would we possibly gain from giving him what he wants?” Richard scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. “He shot Detective Anderson and nearly killed the Lieutenant. He is two-nil on attempted murder of two Andersons. I would think you’d be more against letting him see either of them again.”

”I don't fucking want to, but what choice do we have?”

A bubble of irritation festered and settled in his chassis before Gavin finally pushed off the wall. “I’ll fucking talk to him.”

He slammed the door shut behind him before either Hank or Richard could get anything in, marching his way the short distance down the hall to the interrogation room and flipping down his hood. This was fine: this was better than pussy-footing around, anyway, and at least this way he could ensure Niles never had to deal with this piece of shit again. Not that anyone could stop him, least of all the cop that stumbled aside when Gavin forced his way into the room.

Locking it was a damn simple thing to do, as was turning off his comms. He had a time limit: he could hear scrambling outside the walls.

”Well, well,” Owen spoke up, his eyes narrowing on Gavin as he leaned back in his chair. “If it isn’t Detective Anderson’s android.”

”Name’s Gavin,” he corrected flippantly, plopping down in the chair across from the man. “Not a hard name to remember.”

”A name, hm?” He tried not to frown with the other’s chuckle. “Quite a unique name for a unique model. I’ve never seen an android quite like you.”

“Never got released. But you don't give a shit.”

Owen paused, his smile simmering down as he canted his head the other way. “… No. I certainly don't. Are you here to serve as the medium between me and your Detective?”

”Niles isn’t coming, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Gavin folded his arms, leaning back in his chair.

”I see. I was quite clear in my request. Either I speak to Detective Anderson or I speak to no one at all.”

”See, that’s a load of bullshit.” He canted his head, mirroring Owen for a moment before he leaned in on the table, lips curling into a sneer. “You’re not fucking stupid. You’ve got no reason to believe we’d let you speak to Niles. How else would you have gotten away for nearly a decade?”

He could hear the commotion outside calming down somewhat: good. He had a bit more time. No one had even tried to hack the door he’d locked yet. 

“Better yet, something changed for you,” Gavin continued. “‘Cause going for the same target that got away from you before? Fucking stupid, if you ask me.” And ah, there was the flash of anger he could see as Owen’s jaw tightened. “You had all those other cops spirited away to fuck knows where, where no one can find them except by your say so. And for some reason Connor’s the one that got under your skin.”

”I believe I was quite clear in my request,” Owen stated, but the calmness was gone, and Gavin reveled in the way his stress was beginning to climb. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Why? Is it ‘cause I’m an android? Too machine for you? Can’t figure out how to manipulate a machine , huh?” The GV900 scoffed as he rose, curling his fists against the table. “Hate to break it to you, bub, but androids got recognized as people all the way up by the government.”

”A machine cannot be a person.”

”Yet here I am, proving otherwise.”

”Oh, please. You’re hardly the glowing example: there are no other androids like you. Surely that’s because you were defective from the start.” Owen gestured at Gavin now. “Look at you: you’re hardly the model android. Your designers had poor taste. You look like a middle-aged man going through a mid-life crisis.”

”Me thinks you doth project, Mr. Carter.”

”I am not projecting. ”

”Then why the LED?” And oh, how frustratingly quick Owen snapped his mouth shut, but he could work with this. He saw that rise in stress. “Were you jealous of not being an android?”

” Jealous?! ” Owen scoffed as he averted his gaze. “Absolutely not.”

”I dunno. You seemed to be trying awfully hard to make sure you looked like one. You even came into the precinct and everything, walked around with the damn thing on your head.” Gavin raised a hand and tapped at his own LED. “Sure seemed like you were trying to be an android to me.” He leaned back, holding his hands out with lips curled up into a smirk. “Ah, but I’m not asking, of course. Can’t ask you questions since you want a lawyer. I’m just a machine making predictions.”

Owen wasn’t smiling anymore, and Gavin didn’t care: his stress was rising. He stepped away from the table, shrugging his shoulders as he slipped his hand into his pockets as he paced around a bit, closer to the human, keeping his predatory gaze on him.

“I’m thinkin’ that’s part of why you chose to go after Connor again. Youngest Lieutenant in history, android’s favourite go-to for all things android-related crimes? He’s got a hell of a rep these days.” Gavin leaned against the table beside Owen, looking down at him, leaning in as close as he could get away with. “But what’s it gonna look like when an android goes after him? Android’s favourite detective getting killed by one? Shit, that’d cause a shitstorm when our place in society’s still tenuous at best.” He canted his head. “That’s the goal, isn’t it? Get androids back at the bottom of the food chain again.”

And Owen laughed.

It was enough to get the artificial hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

“Good guess for a machine,” the human spat, sneering back at him now. “Though you’re only half right.”

“What can I say? I’ve only the data in front of me to go off of. From the looks of it, you’ve forgotten all about your dear ol’ mom—”

Owen jerked suddenly, hands and knees slamming against the table as fury burned bright in his eyes, and Gavin himself leaned back out of the way on instinct. “I didn’t forget her!”

“Yeah? Doesn’t look like that to me from here.”

“I did not —!”

“‘Cause Con sure had nothing to do with any of it. Hell, everything you did, ten years later? Doesn’t make any damn sense from where I’m standing. Catching and almost killing Con, killing Officer Cooper… shit, you even changed up your style. You kept him alive a hell of a lot longer than you kept Officer Cooper.”

“He didn’t deserve a painless death!”

“Yeah? He must’ve really fucked you over without realizing it.”

“He’s just like Robert Lambert!” Owen snapped. “Making unrealistic promises of solving crimes when he knew damn well that he couldn’t! He’d rather lie and provide false hope rather than actually do his job! ” He barked out a manic laugh. “He got lucky ! He was a damned pawn to make a statement and nothing more! I should have torn him apart, sent each of his limbs one by one, and buried the final one where no one could find it!”

Gavin’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk as he watched the colour drain from Owen’s face just as the door to the interrogation room slid open.

“I’ll be sure to remember that, fucker.”

Chapter Text

“You just have a few more steps!”

“Logan—“

“C’mon! Almost there!”

“Logan—“

Niles was in no way surprised when Logan’s constant attempts at ‘cheerleading’ for Connor got his shins smacked with a crutch (“You fucker! I’m trying to be encouraging!” “It’s patronizing!”). He simply stepped into the house first to placate Sumo and keep the big lug at bay with no small amount of pets and treats along with Hank, exchanging a fond look with the HK800 as they both shrugged. It was nice that he had been able to take the day off to help them get situated with Connor back home.

As much as he loathed to admit it, his shoulder still needed time to heal, and holding back a Saint Bernard was not on the list of approved activities from his doctor’s note.

“Jesus, he’s excited,” Hank grunted, having to lean back as Sumo seemed incapable of sitting still without clocking the android in the jaw.

“That’s ‘cause he knows Con’s gonna spoil him rotten,” Logan snorted, still hovering beside his twin and watching with a worried frown. “We should give the Miller’s a thank you gift for putting up with him.”

“Sumo is a good boy,” Connor protested, weak as it was with how breathless he’d gotten.

“… You sure you don't want me carrying you?” Hank asked cautiously, only to wince lightly at the near-scathing look he received.

The young lieutenant didn’t seem to have the strength required to continue his protesting, having most of his energy focused on making it to his goal. Niles found himself eying him cautiously as he watched Connor’s energy start to evaporate in real time. He knew it was necessary: the doctors had expressed as such, and had even had the nurses help him take the time to move around as soon as the day after he’d woken up. It all seemed horrendously painful.

The clatter of a crutch had Niles tightening his hold on Sumo, had Hank stepping forward, but it was Logan that swiftly caught his twin under his arms. Connor panted harshly through the pain, pale and well past his limit as he clung desperately to his twin.

“Let Hank get you to your room,” Logan insisted, flicking his gaze up to the android before focusing on Connor.

“I’m f-fine—“

“You’re the fucking definition of not fine, you’re on half the dose of pain meds you should be.” The technician dared not squeeze but he shuffled slightly, just enough so he could meet Connor’s gaze. “Please? We’ll let you have your macho independence after you’ve had some rest. This’d make me and Nines feel better.”

That seemed to be the argument to win Connor over, as much as Niles wished it wasn’t. He sagged some in Logan’s arms, buried his face briefly in his twin’s shoulder. “... Can I at least get to the couch instead?”

“... Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.”

Sumo whined with his confusion, paws dancing one after the other while Hank got Connor situated and Logan fetched the necessary pile of blankets and pillows to get him comfortable before moving on to make some form of food for them. Niles tried to offer help, only to find himself under the scrutinizing gaze of both android and second older brother, and found himself settling into the armchair closest to Connor. He eased up somewhat on Sumo’s collar when the dog’s desperation grew, cautious as he allowed the oversized canine to be beckoned over to his favourite human.

“Easy, Sumo,” Connor chuckled, setting a hand upon the dog’s head, scratching his ears happily. “We’re gonna have to hold off on cuddling for a bit.”

“I don't think I’ve ever seen him so calm,” Niles admitted.

“He is a good boy. Sometimes it’s just me and him when I’m injured.” A fond look crossed his face. “Plus you guys got hurt. How do you think I took care of myself when you two were busy?”

Niles… didn’t expect that to hurt quite as much as it did. A pang of guilt shot through him, made him lower his gaze. This wasn’t Connor’s first time being hurt: it came with the nature of their job. Being shot, twisting an ankle, breaking a bone, getting into a fight… it was expected of them as officers of the law. They’d never really thought about it twice. Connor had always come out relatively intact, capable of maintaining his image of strength and dismissing them when they tried to help him.

Something on his face must have shown as Connor flustered some.

“Niles, wait, that’s not—” he started, pushing to sit up. Niles was quicker, pushing down gently to keep his brother still.

“Don’t get up.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” Niles squeezed his brother’s shoulder gently once Connor settled, mindful of Sumo as he knelt on the ground so they were eye level. “You never do. I wish you were more selfish.”

“You guys have your own lives.” Connor’s hand found his, patting it gently even as his brows remained knit in a soft frown. “And I was never this injured before, even… even the first time.”

Niles shook his head. “We should have done better. You don’t tend to tell us when you need help ever since Mom and Dad died.” He pat Connor’s shoulder before turning his hand, lightly squeezing Connor’s.

“That’s… I mean, Logan’s running a whole new repair center,” his brother muttered, gaze averting away from Niles. “And you’re not a kid anymore. You’ve got your hands full with Gavin.”

“Gavin can handle himself.” A pause as he… thought about that for a moment. Actually… “... Most of the time. If not, Hank can watch him.” He shook his head, looking back to Connor. “You’re deflecting. Let us help you more. Ask for help.” He canted his head just so. “Please?”

It was hard to tell if the message settled in with how much Connor settled into silence. Niles hoped it did, at least a little bit. He didn’t expect a change overnight, not with how much his brother had bottled over the years. He could only hope that Hank would be able to offer him some of the relief he needed when they had some privacy together.

Things settled quickly after that. Logan and Hank made the quick discovery of leftovers, courtesy of the Millers, and reheated portions for everyone (“Why is Chris so fucking nice?!”) by the time Gavin finally deigned to join them. Niles listened to the updates on the case while they helped let Sumo out, and returned to what could only be a deathmatch form of checkers played between Hank and Logan. Sumo had taken his place at Connor’s side on the couch, taking on a guardian-like nature and scrutinizing anyone that got close (“Nines, you sure he’s not gonna bite me?” “… Mostly.” “What!”)

A lot of the recovery process remained similar to what it had been before. Niles and Logan opted to take turns throughout the night to watch over Connor, helping to fend off any nightmares that might threaten to take hold. Whether it was because their presence truly worked or not, Niles couldn’t say, but remained relieved all the same.

His refusal of medication, however, was a problem.

Gunshot wounds hurt, to which Niles could attest freely and openly in the wake of his healing shoulder. As much as he was loath to use them himself, there was no functioning consistently without some form of medication. Better to have a hint of brain fog than to suffer stubbornly, particularly when he was on medical leave and had run out of old reports to file.

Connor was recovering from a far more major surgery.

He was also traumatized all over again.

Watching him struggle to sleep and move as a result of his pain was hard to watch. All the sharp intakes of breath and screwed-up expressions, coupled with a growing irritation and snappishness that made it difficult to be around him. It had only taken a couple days for him and Gavin to get into a particularly vicious spat, and Logan had never been known for his patience.

“Did you forget the hole in your fucking stomach?” the technician snarked with no small amount of exasperation. “‘It’s not a fucking weakness.”

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Connor replied tightly.

“You realize you’re curling up in that blanket?” Logan held his deadpan gaze even as he was given a dirty look from his twin. “Con, fuck’s sake, just take a damn pill.”

“No.”

“Why?!”

Connor’s response was just to shake his head, back to them, face buried against the couch cushions. Logan threw his hands up at a loss.

“You never half-ass anything, we get it. There’s no brownie points for torturing yourself.”

“Can you leave if you’re just going to complain?”

“No!”

“Easy,” Niles spoke up, setting a hand to placate the riled up twin before focusing on Connor. “He’s right, though. You need something for the edge.”

Sumo whined as a shudder ripped through Connor’s form. “I’ll manage,” he murmured stubbornly.

“No, you can’t!” Logan snapped out, planting his hands on the couch arm Connor’s head was closest to. “Shit, you barely could before.” He squeezed his eyes shut, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Con, please. It’s hard to watch you like this.”

Connor curled up tighter, grasping the fabric of the blanket in trembling fingers. It was easy to see the fear in his form, even easier to understand the reason behind it. It had manifested in the hospital, panic attacks coming quickly each time he woke up from the drug-induced haze caused by the pain medication. An old fear had been brought back to the forefront thanks to Owen Carter.

“We’ll be right here,” Niles soothed, cautious as he set a hand on the older brother’s shoulder. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

And oh, if it didn’t break their heart to see the teary-eyed fear, the hesitancy in Connor’s gaze as he finally turned to look at them.

Chapter Text

Gavin found he was developing entirely too many human-like traits.

Pacing when he couldn’t sit still because he was anxious. 

Bouncing his leg when he was impatient.

Staring at the goddamn door when he was waiting for Niles to come into work, even though he knew without a shred of doubt his partner was still on medical leave.

The GV900 sighed as he sank into his chair, slouching as he let the details and files of the case scroll through his HUD for the billionth time to make sure there were no errors. No damning piece of evidence they’d missed, no busted protocols (beyond his one impromptu chase, anyway). No implication of Niles having done anything he shouldn’t have, all the dotted Is and crossed Ts. All of it was in order, none of it was out of place.

But they still didn’t know where the rest of the victims were.

Owen had proven to be surprisingly tight-lipped, and his lawyer even more so. 

The only victim they had the location for was Terry Cooper, and that was only because there had been undeniable proof of where the poor bastard had been killed to tie it to Owen. It was a relief when Owen’s lawyer had conceded, all but forcing his client to give up the location of the still-fresh corpse sitting at the bottom of the river. He’d volunteered himself to go in to retrieve him, as water tight as he was.

The dreaded relief that Officer Cooper’s wife had, as she identified his remains, was one Gavin wasn’t sure he was going to have seared into his memory files.

He flinched as something knocked against the back of his head, spinning around sharply to see Niles, of all people, standing over him, holding a cup of what had to be warmed thirium in it.

“What the fuck?” were the first words out of Gavin’s mouth, blinking up in disbelief as his very-much-still-on-leave partner was just there. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Connor left some things here,” the detective explained, reaching over Gavin’s shoulder to set the mug down. He gently lifted his right arm, as if to indicate the sling it was still very much in. “It’s not like my access is restricted.”

“It should be, so you stop working and actually take a damn break.”

“How else would I annoy you?”

And god, Gavin wished he could wipe that smirk off his partner’s face sometimes. That stupidly charming, know-it-all smirk that was so subtle, so reserved, that only a precious few ever got to see it.

“You’re distracted,” Niles continued, canting his head subtly as the android picked up the mug.

“I’m an android. I can’t get distracted,” Gavin shot back, resisting the urge to grumble as he brought the mug to his lips. “Capable of multiple processes at the same time, same as Hank.”

“And all of them focused on the case.”

“Yup.” Gavin even made sure to pop the ‘p’ at the end to accentuate his point.

“Is that why your terminal has cat videos all over it?”

“What?!” And okay, maybe Gavin should have known better than to actually look , because he wasn’t even physically connected with the damn thing. He shot his glare up at Niles as his damnable human had the audacity to laugh at him. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Catch the world’s most advanced android unawares. Must feel so proud of yourself.”

“A little.”

Gavin grumbled and drinking his cup of thirium and he’d be damned if he gave Niles the satisfaction of seeing him annoyed. So he didn’t. He kept his gaze stubbornly on the mug of thirium warmed to his favourite temperature with just the barest hint of vanilla to cut through the acidic taste. Stubbornly analyzing it because he was pretty sure it was a new thing Logan had made that Niles was secretly delivering to him but no, giving his dumbass the satisfaction of seeing him just a little pleased by it, a little less stressed, was a right he had not earned for the next ten minutes.

“Gavin.”

Of course it was never that easy.

Not when Niles used that tone on him. The quiet tone devoid of his usual confidence and snark, just an octave lower than its normal, like he was trying to make sure they had at least some semblance of a private conversation in this entirely-too-public bullpen. And then he looked over towards the man he’d been saddled with for the last ten months — the one who had first been the ball-and-chain of his existence, his practical jailer, and turned into one of the few he’d trust with his artificial life — staring at him with the same concern, the same care, that he’d seen directed to Niles’ own brothers…

“... Yeah,” he admitted, pressing his lips tight together. “There’s… I dunno how to explain it.” Gavin tipped his gaze back to his mug, opting to choose at the sapphire blue liquid inside rather than focus on Niles for now. “We got him in our cells. Owen’s fucking off the street, Connor’s home, you’re actually going home, and Logan’s not hovering around like a lost puppy.”

“... but?” Niles pressed, because of course he would. He didn’t get to be the second youngest detective in the DPD just by following in Connor’s footsteps.

“But it doesn’t feel like a win.”

It didn’t. He knew it probably should. They saved the victim. They found Terry Cooper’s body to give his wife closure.  It was more than what could be said for any of the others a decade ago.

“It’s… frustrating,” Gavin continued, grimacing, well aware that his LED must be blinking red by now. His stress levels weren’t increasing, for which he was relieved. “Even knowing all that, and everything we’ve done and discovered, it feels fucking hollow. The FBI wants to know where the rest of the victims are buried, and Owen won’t talk. Connor’s probably out of commission for a long fucking time before he gets to come back, and not just because of all his physical damage. I’ve seen how he gets when we leave him in a room alone. He was a mess before all of this. Hell knows how Hank’s taking it, because he’s in full Dad Mode when he’s not home. And you… “

And Niles was having nightmares about this whole thing.

Niles had tried to hide it, Gavin was more than certain, behind the closed doors of his bedroom and focusing his energy on Connor, rather than on himself.

“I should’ve figured this shit out sooner.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Most advanced android in existence, and it took me two days to find Owen — and that was only because he made a fucking mistake. ”

Gavin let out a shaky breath to expel the heat building up in his system from the obnoxious bubble of emotions. Emotions of… something. Something that kept twisting and squeezing at his biocomponents, turning them upside-down. It made him want to curl up in his chair, to scream and shout until his voice module gave out, but he found he just couldn’t. The desire and the urge was there, and the energy required to act upon it simply wasn’t. It left him feeling hollow and awful, almost betrayed by his own stupid brain.

His chair was tugged closer, and Gavin found Niles pulling him in a one-armed side hug. Not one of their usuals, the ones that usually came from casual touches or greetings, of relief when they reunited when one or both of them came back from whatever dumbfuck decision they made to separate themselves for more than a minute.

This was the kind of hug he’d only seen Niles give to his brothers. The kind that was meant to be both protective and reassuring, pulling Gavin flush against his side so that the android could bury and hide if he so chose without forcing it upon him. Another shaky breath escaped him, expelling more heat, but he’d be damned to admit that he felt his ventilators stutter in his chest. And if anyone asked about the saline solution leaking out of his eyes, he’d deny it with his dying breath.

“Regret,” Niles murmured atop his head. “What you’re feeling is regret, Gavin.”

Regret.

To have a name to the emotion was more damning than he thought it’d be. It made trembling hands set down his mug in favour of burying up against his partner’s chest. It made quiet, barely-there gasps escape as his breath hitched with sobs he tried to conceal.

“I feel it, too,” the damnable human continued, and Gavin hated that he found his voice so damned soothing right now. “So does Hank. We can’t let it eat us alive: Connor doesn’t want that. Owen doesn’t deserve to have that over us.”

“I can’t stop it ,” he insisted, shaking his head, curling his fingers into the fabric of Niles’ shirt. “There’s no program to… to shut off, or error message, or fucking anything that makes me just stop feeling. ”

“I know.”

“Then it’s stupid to fucking suggest it.”

He felt the sag in the human’s shoulders, the hand moving from his upper back up to thread into the back of his hair. “It’s worse not to try. Emotions don’t work like that. They aren’t a program you turn off, or an error message you dismiss. You have to live with them, good or bad.”

And then Niles was leaning back, away, and Gavin reluctantly allowed it. He flinched when his partner’s hand came up to wipe at his eyes, swatting him away to do it himself with his two perfectly functional hands. It earned some sort of faint form of a smile.

“Regret, anger, hatred, fear,” Niles continued, “can make you drown in them. Things happen that make you feel them: you can’t avoid them. It’s learning to accept them and move on that determines whether you’re dealing with them in a healthy manner, or if they’ll just drown you until they’ve taken over everything in your life.”

Gavin gave a stiff nod, but he certainly didn’t feel any better. Hell, was he even supposed to? The soft pat on his shoulder suggested it was fine no matter what he felt.

“Come home tonight. Come back fresh in the morning.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“... Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

Chapter Text

Gavin supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Niles wasn’t driving his motorcycle around, all considered, but it was a little strange to see the sedan sitting outside the precinct. It was so… normal, after spending so much time watching and scolding Niles about his use of the motorcycle. It wasn’t anything fancy, not by any stretch of the means — a simple 4-door sedan, not quite the latest and greatest model vehicle but probably a year or two older. Something, it seemed, that Niles at least had just in case things happened where his motorcycle wasn’t an option.

Like when he got shot.

He was almost proud.

He refrained from making any comments. He found he didn’t have the required energy to do so. Which was a little funny, in his opinion, how emotions could do that: his battery was sufficiently charged, his diagnostics came back clean, yet all he found he wanted to do was to just find somewhere to lay down and exist.

As they arrived at Connor’s, parking just on the side of the house rather than in the driveway, it almost seemed like something he could do. And, in fact, he did once Niles had made their presence known and exchanged his greetings with his brothers. Gavin gave Sumo the wary pets the dog seemed to demand of him while the humans did their thing, following the dog outside into the yard and taking a seat on the steps of the little porch.

And just

Sinking.

Staring up at the night sky ahead, the light pollution destroying any chance at seeing any stars with the naked eye, seemed to be the move. It was all he found he had the energy to do at the moment.

This way Sumo got to do his business and Gavin got to exist and figure out his own thought process.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The GV900 tipped his gaze away from the sky, peering up at a pair of brown eyes and curly hair staring down at him, an unlit cigarette held between his lips as Logan dug his hands into his pockets.

“... With or without the lecture on smoking?” Gavin questioned, lips curling in a faint smile.

“I’d prefer without,” Logan snorted in response, pulling his lighter out of his pocket and plopping on the stairs beside him. “But since you look so down, I might just let you have it if it’ll cheer you up.”

As tempting as it was, Gavin didn’t even have the energy for that much. He only gave a half-hearted shrug, pushing himself to sit up properly. “Blah blah, smoking’s bad. There’s your lecture.”

“... Wow,” Logan remarked, “you are down.”

“I promise it’s as weird for me as it is for you.”

“You talk to Nines already?”

“Yeah.” Which was the extent of what he wanted to admit. “We talked a little about it. Named the emotion. Still feels like shit after.” He shoved his hood down, and he didn’t need a mirror to know his LED hadn’t shifted back from yellow since leaving the precinct. He almost wished Logan was the type to needle like his two detective brothers, but the technician chose to simply sit there, waiting for him to speak and continue. It didn’t make it any easier.

Logan was a civilian in all of this. He’d had less reason than anyone to keep it together, to be rational about this. Hell, he really hadn’t been when they’d found Connor, blaming anyone and everyone he could until Niles could settle him down. To some extent, Gavin could see how Logan had at least mellowed out, but there was still an anxious energy to him that hadn’t gone away, that was unlikely to go away for some time.

Hell, this was the first time he’d even seen Logan smoking.

“How do you deal with it?” Gavin asked, lifting his gaze to Logan, meeting those harder brown eyes.

“What? Watching my brothers go off to play hero for the city and hope they come back alive?” It was a mirthless laugh that Logan let out, a huff of smoke escaping it. His shoulders sagged, and Gavin realized that there was a lot more exhaustion to the other than he’d really considered. “I don’t. Not really. I’m not built like them. Wanted to, though, when we were younger: three crime-fighting bros working together to solve Detroit’s worst crimes? It would’ve been something out of a TV show.”

“But you didn’t.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement to give Logan a chance for a pause. The technician nodded his head.

“I didn’t ‘cause I got fucking scared.”

Logan held his cigarette between his lips, shuffled just a little in order to adjust his coat more. Gavin opted to shuffle a little bit closer to help cut through some of the chill, letting the human lean in a little to leech some of his heat even while he avoided his gaze.

“It’s kinda pathetic. You’d think, being the spitting image of Connor, I’d have gotten at least half of his personality, too.” The technician took a drag and let the smoke out slowly, hardened brown eyes following Sumo as the Saint Bernard settled himself in a mud slush puddle. “But no… no, I learned really fucking quickly I wasn’t gonna be able to do even half of what he did. I couldn’t tell you why. We grew up with the same loving parents, went through the same tragedy of losing them in a car accident, and we both grew up with Niles as our baby brother. We’re on the same wavelength more times than not, but we’re still… “

“You’re different people,” Gavin finished for him, furrowing his brows. “With different personalities.”

Logan chuckled weakly. It had a little bit of mirth to it this time. “Yeah.” He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette. “What really made it sink in is when someone confused me for Con. Some… punk drug addict he’d arrested. I was still studying in university, and went out to get some late-night snacks from the mini-mart.”

With how much Logan’s stress was increasing just telling the story, Gavin had half a mind to just dig into the DPD servers to find it himself. Yet before he could voice as such, the technician sighed, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. He rolled up his left sleeve, revealing the long, thin scar along the back of his forearm. Gavin could tell it hadn’t been deep, looking worse than it was, but whatever knife it had been had been serrated. At least a decade old or more.

“Guy attacked me with a knife. A patrol car happened to be rolling by and managed to save my ass. When everyone realized I wasn’t Connor, they called him up to take me home.” Logan’s lips spread into a wry smirk, pulling his sleeve down when Gavin had analyzed it enough. “He was so fucking calm about it. No crying, no freaking out, no nothing. I ended up passing the hell out at the sight of all the blood. I still can’t stand the sight of it.”

“You kept it together pretty well when we got Connor outta that gallery.”

Logan snorted. “Not at all. I puked my guts out in the ambulance ride. Thought the paramedics were gonna pull over and kick me out. They must’ve either been scared I was gonna join him on that gurney or something, though, ‘cause they didn’t.” His gaze softened, finally turning it back on Gavin. “Point being… no. I’m not handling any of this well. So if you’re not, either, that’s fine. That’s kind of part of the whole ‘being alive’ thing. I know Niles and Connor are some crazy examples of how to handle negative shit: all tough and broody and hiding all of it so it’s their own burden. But then there’s guys like me — and you, if I can be so bold — who just fall apart at the slightest bit of stress. And that’s okay, too.”

Gavin hummed softly as he considered it all, watching Logan press down the remains of his cigarette to snuff it out before calling for Sumo and producing a towel that Gavin questioned where he’d even kept it. It was a challenge to keep the dog still long enough to clean up most of the mud — for which they were both equally glad that the big lug hadn’t decided to roll around in it.

There was something in his wires that had settled after his talk with Logan. Not quite completely — he could still feel the tightness in them, the squeeze of anxiety and regret and guilt still keeping a near-vice grip on his biocomponents — but it was… better. Knowing that he wasn’t alone in his confusion, his feelings. Maybe it would get better as time moved forward.

But he also knew that he desperately, more than anything in the world — more than when he’d first broken that red wall trapping him in the confines of his programming — wanted to make sure Owen Carter didn’t get away with what he’d done.

Hearing the rushed sound of footsteps and too-serious mutterings of Niles and Hank set Gavin and Logan right back on edge. Sumo gave a gruff bark as Gavin held the dog’s collar, the trio making their relatively quick way over to the commotion—

“—aid it’s fine, it’s not that bad—”

“Connor, your stitches are fucking torn, of course it’s bad!”

“What the hell did you do now?” Logan hissed as they entered the living room, Hank knelt beside Connor and trying to assess the splotch of red on his bandages. Gavin could both watch and hear the way Niles was pacing a short distance away on his phone.

“They’re overreacting,” Connor insisted stubbornly, only to tense right up as Hank started peeling away the soiled bandages.

“He went to pull something off a shelf rather than asking for help,” Hank grunted, his brows furrowed in a scowl as he worked to clean the torn wound.

“Connor!”

“They were busy!”

Logan groaned in exasperation as he scrubbed a hand down his face, lifting his gaze to fix it on Hank. “How bad is it?”

“Could be worse,” the android explained, and Gavin leaned over to hum his agreement with the assessment. “Don’t think he fucked up more than a couple.”

“See? Most advanced androids agree: I’m fine. ” Connor huffed, though he didn’t try to force Hank away as the HK800 continued to clean and put pressure on the wound.

“You’re still going to the ER,” Niles cut in, icy tone leaving no room for argument as he tucked his phone away. “Doctor’s orders. She agrees that you’re an idiot, by the way.”

“I’m also in agreement,” Logan added in with a deadpan. “Who’s driving?”

“You should. I’ll stay home to make sure food doesn’t burn.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I don’t get a say in this, do I?” Connor had the right idea in shrinking under the gaze of all four of them. “... I didn’t think so.”

“For the record,” his twin shot back, snagging the car keys off the hook they hung by the door, “the second you’re able to, your ass is driving me to and from work every day of the week for a month for this.”

Chapter Text

“For the record,” Hank stated, bluntly, as he stared at Richard, “I don’t like this.”

”Your opinion is duly noted,” the FBI Agent remarked dryly. “Unfortunately, we have no other options.”

Niles followed the HK800 with his eyes as the android let out an aggravated noise, pacing around the observation room while he scrubbed his hands in his synthetic hair. He could understand the frustration: Owen Carter had stubbornly maintained his silence on the locations of any other victims without a secured meeting with Niles. The selfish part of him wanted— 

”You could just say ‘fuck it’.”

… well, that.

They had Owen behind bars. With the evidence stacked against him for what he’d done to Connor — conspiracy to murder, kidnapping, armed assault — and the murder of Terry Cooper, they had more than enough to lock him away for good. Hopefully in a high-security solitary confinement, if Niles could dare to dream. Yet that would mean the other victims — those that had been slain and buried, hidden away for the last decade, would never be found. Owen had promised as such: he would refuse to cooperate for whatever time he had left.

Richard wanted justice for all of the victims, and Niles was inclined to agree. They deserved it, and their families deserved closure after all these years. A part of him could empathize well: if they’d never found Connor the first time, he would’ve been in their same shoes.

But the thought of confronting Owen again made his skin itch and his stomach twist.

He glanced down at Gavin, met his gaze as the GV900 stood at his side. The android hadn’t said a word, and seemed inclined to keep his silence: Niles wished he wouldn’t.

”Niles,” Hank spoke up, drawing his gaze to sky-blue eyes and a yellow spinning LED. “You don’t have to do this. This whole thing’s making my wires itch: his obsession makes no sense.”

“As much as I am inclined to agree with Hank,” Richard spoke up with no small amount of annoyance, “the FBI wants these cases closed — all of them. That means finding each and every body that we haven’t found yet. If that means granting a madman what he wants, then that’s what we’ll do.” Though the man paused, and for once, Niles could spot some hesitation in his hardened eyes. Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed in a scowl, before letting his arm drop back to his side. “But… this is also unprecedented: though you are a detective of the DPD, and you’ve more than proven yourself… you are still as much a victim in this as the Lieutenant is. If you want to decline, then so be it.”

Every fiber of his being wanted to decline. The idea of having to face Owen again made his skin crawl.

”I’ll speak with him,” Niles agreed reluctantly, discomfort burning through him as Hank cursed under his breath.

”I don’t need to remind you how to handle the interrogation,” the FBI agent stated, gesturing towards the exit. “Don’t let him lead the conversation. Being direct got us the most answers last time, courtesy of your partner.” He nodded towards Gavin. “His mother seems to be a sore spot.”

”I’ll keep that in mind, Agent Perkins.”

His gaze drifted down to Gavin as his partner finally moved, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning on. Ice-blue eyes met grey, catching the subtle worry and concern mixed with something else.

”I’ll be right here to watch your back,” he assured, his lips curling up into a lopsided grin. It wasn’t his usual: there was a lack of his usual mirth, his usual snark. There was a lack of confidence he wasn’t used to seeing in the other android. “Just say the word, and Hank and I’ll be there to save your ass.”

He really hoped they could sit down and talk again soon

”So long as you don’t break the glass again,” Niles replied, his own tension easing as he drew a snort of a laugh out of the android. 

He wound up being the first to enter the interrogation room, Owen’s files and his own tablet set down on his side of the table. His stylus was back in his hand, spun uselessly over his fingers as he tried to convince himself he wasn’t nervous. It was silly. Ridiculous, even. Owen wasn’t even the most depraved person he’d had the misfortune of interacting with in his time on the force. He just happened to be the person who had targeted, and almost successfully killed, someone close to Niles.

He could almost hear the precinct’s therapist analyzing every part of that thought process.

The young detective sighed just before the door opened, ice-blue eyes meeting with Owen Carter’s own gaze, escorted with a guard on each side.

“And here I thought you were avoiding me,” Owen started, smiling that false, placating smile as his handcuffs were affixed to the table in front of him. “How is your arm, Detective Anderson?”

“Healing well,” he answered in kind, raising a brow as he set his stylus down on the table. “And yours?”

“Absolute agony.”

Niles sat across the table from Owen as the guards shuffled out, leaving the pair of them alone. The jail hadn’t been particularly kind to Owen: he was paler, now, than the last time he saw him, though he wondered if part of that could be attributed to the lack of dirt and grime he had on him now that he was forced into the prison uniform. Bright orange was, no matter what anyone said, not a flattering colour for most people.

“And how is your brother doing?” the killer continued, splaying out his hands as if communicate with them. “Still alive?”

Niles couldn’t help the bristle in his form, the chill running through his spine. “Yes.” But it was all he was going to allow: he didn’t want Connor’s name coming out of this man’s mouth if he could help it. “Why did you want to meet me?”

“Who wouldn’t want to meet the one who understands them the most?” Owen countered with that damnable smile. “In all these years, you’re the only one that connected the dots together. Most of them, anyway.”

“Wonders of technology. It wasn’t all me: Hank and Gavin did most of the work for me.”

Mention of the androids wiped Owen’s smile right off, and there was an odd sense of satisfaction to that. Niles opened the file before him, analyzing the pictures of each of the victims that Owen had accumulated over the years. From Rowan Lambert all the way down to his brother and Terry Cooper.

“Please, Detective, they were just machines ordered to complete a task and nothing more. You need not be so modest.”

“It isn’t modesty.” The goal wasn’t to rile up Owen, not yet, but there was an itch under his skin: he wasn’t going to take credit for Hank and Gavin’s work. “There’s still a few things that we couldn’t figure out, though.”

“Enlighten me, then. I may even just give you the answers you want.”

He just had to hope the answers he wanted were the same answers that he needed.

Niles took a deep breath to steady himself. “Why Connor?”

Owen chuckled at that, leaning back in his chair. “Really? That’s the first question you want to ask? Not why I wanted to talk to you so badly?”

“They go hand in hand, don’t they?”

And there was that damnable smile again. “You are a smart one, Detective Anderson. Or should I call you Niles? Can I call you Niles?”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t, Mr. Carter.”

Owen clicked his tongue in disappointment, some of that smile fading. “Fine, fine, since you insist on being so formal. It’s no wonder Connor’s the one always wooing the crowd: he’s always been much friendlier.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You’re not answering the question. If you don't answer, then I’ll be ending this conversation.”

“And risk losing out on all the information you seek?”

“We have more than enough to lock you away for a very, very long time even without the knowledge of the other victims,” Niles reminded bluntly, leaning back in his chair.

“Yet here you are at the behest of the FBI, trying to get more information.”

“Only to try and help them out. I am under no obligation to continue if you won’t cooperate as you said you would.”

“Your brother would do everything in his power to extract all the information from me that he could.”

“Yes,” Niles agreed with a cant of his head. “He would.”

He stared right back at Owen, watching the disbelief on the other’s face and the rest of the emotions that cycled through. Irritation and disgust were bubbling together under the surface and Niles was sure, if not for the cameras and the trio on the other side of that mirror, that this conversation would be going very differently. He hated hearing Connor’s name coming from this madman: it bothered him far more than he wanted to admit. He hated that he had to attempt to play this man’s game.

He hated it as Owen laughed, sending chills crawling down his spine as he tightened his hands into his arms.

“Oh, I do like you, Detective Anderson.” The killer leaned back in his chair. “You want to know? Because your brother embodies everything I despise about the police: the false platitudes, the fake camaraderie, promises to do good. And all the while, his actions spoke of the opposite: supporting machines as they took jobs away from us, avoiding my calls when I wanted answers, lying to me!”

Niles furrowed his brows as Owen spoke, irritation turning to barely-contained rage. “So you seek to kill those that lie?”

“An officer of the law is meant to protect and serve,” Owen explained as if it was a matter of fact. “Those that cannot are as dangerous as they are useless.”

“Here’s where I’m confused, then: you targeted Connor before and he got away. Why target him a second time?”

He tried not to bristle as Owen laughed at the question, looking like he’d just asked the silliest one. “Because why on earth wouldn’t I? A man promoted in spite of all of the mistakes he’s made?”

“You were quiet for ten years,” Niles pressed. “We could have never found you.”

“And what if I wanted to be found?”

Oh.

They had never considered that.

Niles wondered if he had gone as pale as he felt, sitting there in front of Owen as he just sat there and smiled at him.

“You’re correct that my motives have changed,” the killer continued, inclining his head as he spread out his hands. “I’ll be so kind as to give you a hint, even. Surely you remember my little messenger from before?”

How could Niles forget? How Angela had appeared to just be doing her job like any other personnel, only to turn around and shoot herself in the head—

“Judging by the time on that clock up there,” Owen continued, humming softly as he tipped his gaze up, “you’ve about ten minutes.”

“You’re not working alone this time.” It was a statement, a matter of fact. He didn’t need confirmation: not in this case.

“Ah, but don’t worry. I’ll let you know where those bodies are: it’s only fair, after all. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on seeing your brothers one more time.”

Niles didn’t remember standing up, his heart beating hard in his chest. “What did you do?” Every fiber of his being itched to react, to hurt this man that insisted on going after his family over and over again. “This won’t get you free: surely you know when you’ve been trapped.”

“Oh, but this is no longer about me and what I want, Detective Anderson. No, this is much bigger than that.” Owen glanced up at the clock once more. “Seven minutes now.”

There was a commotion just outside the interrogation room, probably the sound of Gavin and maybe even Hank.

He had to hope they’d get there in time.

“Talk, then.”

Chapter Text

“Where are they?”

”The Haven, but—“

“Get running, I’ll follow in a car—“

” Hank —!”

”They’ll be fine as soon as we get there,” Hank insisted, gripping Gavin by the arms, sky-blue eyes meeting grey as both their LEDs cycled between yellow and red. They were both stressed, instinctive interfaces working to calm each other down. “You’re faster than fucking cars: you’ll get there first, you’ll keep ‘em safe until I get there.”

”And then what?” Gavin demanded, grabbing Hank’s wrists and tearing them off of him. “What about Niles? We can’t both go: we don’t even know what this fucking threat is . For all we know, it’s a fucking trap to get us to leave him.”

There were too many unknowns, too many what-ifs. The playing field had changed again, and Gavin hated that his preconstruction software was coming up with a thousand and one different scenarios and percentages for each of those scenarios. There wasn’t enough data to extrapolate from and form a more concrete conclusion and it was feeding into his heightening stress levels.

Shit. Shit.

”Niles has the entirety of the DCPD to protect him,” the HK800 cut in, pulling his hands away and already turning sharply on his heel towards the car lot. “You heard Perkins: he’s already let the Captain know what’s going on. We’ve got officers on alert at the station and they’re turning away anyone that’s not part of Central.” He paused his steps, brows knit in concern. “This is part of the job, Gav. The boys know it, and Niles has his service weapon on him if he needs to use it. But if Connor and Logan are being targeted, too, they need us: they’re just civilians right now.”

Niles would never forgive him if he didn’t act. It wasn’t even that Gavin wanted to necessarily put his partner above his brothers, that he didn’t think Connor and Logan deserved as much protection as the youngest Anderson. He wished he could be in more than one place at a time. Protect everyone that needed it all at once, come hell or high water and whatever might happen to him.

Hank’s hand clapped down on his shoulder and Gavin allowed the interface between them, let the older android’s calm and protection and certainty wash over him to help lower his stress levels, sending across his own wave of acquiescence and acceptance and an equal amount of calm when he could manage it. He brushed away his own fear just as he did so with Hank’s, shoved down his trepidation in favour of his focus.

He needed to be at his best.

”Okay. Alright.” Fuck emotions were a pain in the ass. “I’m on foot, you’re in the car.” Gavin forced out a cooling breath, letting some heat out of his chassis before stepping back, away, connecting Cybernetically with Hank so they could track one another’s GPS and sending the ping to Niles’ phone while he was at it.

”Right behind you, partner,” Hank replied, relief in his features as he managed a proud grin back at him.

Gavin just flipped his hood up, spinning sharply on his heel as he gave a mock-salute. “Just fucking keep up, Old Man.”

“Get a hold of those two while I get our back-up organized. Should at least give those two a chance to get their guard up.”

No more hesitation as he took off at a sprint, darting through the crowds until he could scale a clearer path on the rooftops. His feet kicked off against each ledge with perfect precision and pace, calculating each trajectory and the power needed to push off and make it to the next roof. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Keep his systems cool and his stress down.

He’d make it in time this time. He would.

Gavin had pulled up the timer in his HUD the moment Owen had indicated it, watching it count down with every step he took. Logan’s Haven wasn’t far from the station — a fifteen minute car ride at the most, less if you said fuck it to the rules of the road. Even less if you were a GV900 scaling across rooftops.

He would make it.

“C’mon,” he hissed as he dialed Logan’s number first. “Pick up, pick up, pick up. ” Hank wanted him to call so they didn’t freak out, he knew that. Had he ever called Logan or Connor before? Would they recognize his serial number in the caller ID?

These were stupid fucking things to worry about when they had an unknown threat to worry about.

Both attempted calls went to voicemail and Gavin shouted out a loud, cathartic ‘FUCK!’ as he moved on to Connor’s number. Logan was getting a lecture after this. Probably. Maybe. Had they ever discussed Gavin calling Logan? They probably should after this shit.

Breathe in, breathe out. He was almost there, less than five minutes. Just a few more blocks. He could see the silly little sign of the repair center nestled in the background, an almost out-of-place thing nestled on the damn street corner of all things. It had been cheap, he remembered Logan explaining, because it had been an old Cyberlife store that had been broken into during the revolution.

“Gavin?”

 “Oh, thank fuck,” Gavin breathed out at the sound of Connor’s voice, dropping down to street level, letting his gyroscope accommodate for the rough landing. “Where are you two?”

“The repair center, what—“

“ Specifics! ”

He could practically hear Connor’s confusion. “Logan’s lab. Gavin, what’s going on?”

“Hank and I are heading to you,” the android explained quickly. He was quick to leap, to use his momentum to vault over a pair of humans blocking the alleyway’s exit. “Lock it down. Don’t let anyone in until we get there. Owen’s not working alone.”

He didn’t like the silence from the other end. It sent a chill through his wires until Connor spoke again: “Logan just had a patient walk in a few minutes ago.”

Because of course it couldn’t be that easy. It never was. “Who else is with you?”

“The… I mean, everyone’s here. The receptionists, the other techs, patients… “

The crosswalk was red and fuck it, Gavin decided, as he let his programming guide him to dodge and weave through the cars. It was reckless, it was stupid, and he could hear Connor berating him in confusion on the other end. It didn’t matter: nothing mattered until he got to the twins because his instincts and preconstruction were going wild with probabilities.

“You said you’re almost here?” Connor’s voice came again over the call.

“Why?”

“We’re… We’re going to need the bomb squad.” And then he hung up.

Just as he burst through the door of the repair center, Gavin ran his scanner, breathing hard to expel the heat that had built up in his system and ignoring the eyes of the waiting room and the bewildered question from the android receptionist. He must have looked insane bursting through the door the way he did, swiping his hood off his head while he sent Hank all the readings he had on the place. He vaguely remembered issuing out orders, announcing himself as DPD, listening as people started scrambling to get out just as the police sirens started echoing in the background.

His sensors were going wild with chemical vapors, organic compounds , in the air. 

Breathe in, breathe out . Hank came in through the door just as the waiting room cleared out, passing information endlessly between them while ordering people out of the building. No, it was not a drill, get out before you get carried out, thank you .

The scene waiting for them was so much worse than his preconstructions had predicted.

It was just the two of them — Logan and Connor, and sitting on the edge of the table was the android in question with the chassis wide open. Connor was already tugging Logan back sharply, away from the table and the android sitting on the edge, and they were almost tripping over each other.

The android’s biocomponents weren’t biocomopnents, not wholly. None that Gavin could recognize at a quick glance, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out the why. Wires and a faint, rhythmic ticking were easy to detect, his sensors tracking the chemical vapors to the still form — her thirium pump was connected and twisted around the majority of them. Everything inside was almost pulsing in time to the ticking, fast and furiously red, like she was on the verge of shutdown if not for the way her lips turned up in a sickly sweet smile.

He and Hank moved in tandem. In the same instant the HK800 grabbed the two humans to shield them with his body, Gavin slid past, kicking the nearest, sturdiest desk down to utilize as a shield. Probabilities and success rates scrawled across his screen as he scanned all the possibilities, but none of them mattered save for the one route they’d chosen.

He and Hank blanketed over the humans as they gripped the desk tight from underneath, ducking just as the explosion ripped through the room with a deafening boom.

It was hot. Burning even. The table slammed against the androids, pushing back even Hank as they kept their heads low and their bodies over the humans. Gavin hissed as he felt the plastimetal on his back threaten to melt, HUD lighting up with warnings and proximity alerts, errors and damage. His audio processors crapped out with a pop! and the world fell to frustrating silence. The ground rumbled and vibrated beneath his form as the structure crumbled and threatened to come down on them.

The humans beneath them were still moving — dusty, bruised, and undoubtedly suffering some form of hearing loss themselves — but moving and alive. No blood that he could see on either Connor or Logan, and judging by how Hank started to uncurl from around them, he seemed to trust they were fine, too.

Gavin shook his head sharply, lifted a hand to smack at his audio processors and get them to recalibrate now, thank you . There was crackling and rumbling, he could hear some water source burst nearby — maybe that was the sprinklers overhead, now that he thought about it — and fire was beginning to spread in the place. All the particles and vapor and other deadly-to-human things in the air had him ripping off his jacket to shove into Logan’s face as the dazed technician started to rise from his forced crouch of safety.

“We have to get them out of here,” he felt, rather than heard, himself say as he started to drag himself and Logan up, lacing the human’s arm over his shoulders. He gave the technician another cursory glance, rechecked for any concerning wounds and found none. Hank already had Connor lifted on his back and with a nod — he’d shoved his jacket into Connor’s face as well — which meant they could calculate their escape route with ease. Carefully, quickly, with no small amount of urgency as his sensors helpfully provided how much longer they had until the structure gave out on itself.

Out into the fresh, clean air that wasn’t going to threaten to shred the twins’ lungs, where bomb squad and police units, fire department and medical services, all of them crowded around the building’s perimeters. Gavin turned his ventilator back on with a shuddered gasp, beelining for the nearest ambulance he could set Logan on and really, actually, get a proper look at him.

His eyes were dazed, his uniform was a mess, but all in all, the man had made it out unscathed, if severely rattled. Gavin couldn’t help pat him down once, twice, just to be sure, anxious energy expelling until Logan shouted a muffled, frustrated command and swatting his hands away while coughing his poor lungs out.

The android forced out a shaky breath, let himself work to steady his own racing pump, hands resting on his knees, watching as Hank deposited Connor next to his twin and EMS promptly took over in evaluating the pair of them. He didn’t know what was being said, his damn audio units weren’t coming back online. He’d need to have them looked at later at the precinct.

A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder and Gavin looked to the HK800, relief washing over and between the pair of them as the interface connected instantly. He straightened up to brush Hank’s hand off, only to happily, and gladly, give him a well-deserved high five in celebration.

They’d made it. They’d fucking made it.

There would inevitably be casualties. Gavin could scan and see no small amount of heat signatures left inside the quickly-collapsing building, and he was more than certain there was going to be some loss. Hell, this had been Logan’s entire livelihood.

For now, though… 

Hank clasped his hand around Gavin’s, pulling him into a tight, one-armed hug and clapping the other over his back, and Gavin returned the gesture with ease.

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