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The bomb in the breakroom was completely unexpected. A box of doughnuts had been delivered which wasn’t all the unusual in itself; it was a police precinct after all. But the explosion that ripped through the building was one that blindsided everyone.
Gavin blinked up at the crumbling ceiling from where he’d been thrown to the floor. Alarms were blaring, people were screaming and he struggled to draw in a breath through the dust and the smoke. People were calling out to each other over the crackle of the fire and he pulled himself up, his shoulder throbbed with each motion. Not far from him, Nines was shaking his head as he gathered himself and tried to recalibrate his systems.
Heat was building around them and Gavin staggered to his feet, vision swimming and his ears ringing. He pulled Nines to his feet and watched as Hank and Connor stumbled towards the fire exit covered in thirium. Somewhere behind them, someone screamed. Gavin turned even as he ushered Nines forward and watched as a rebar had pinned one of the androids to the ground and fire licked near their chassis.
“Go! Before your hair melts out of its perfect shape. That’s an order,” he shoved Nines and turned back into the chaos of the ruined bullpen.
Fire and smoke clogged the air, the heat was nigh on unbearable but Gavin pressed on, picked his way towards the pinned android whose skin had retracted away from the flames. Their chassis was slowly melting and their tears evaporated as quickly as they tried to trickle down white cheeks.
“Please,” their voice was creaky with static as they reached for Gavin.
“We’ll get you out, hold on,” he replied between coughs.
The rebar pinned the android just above the hip, thirium was slowly seeping from the cracks in their chassis. There was nothing for it, Gavin pulled his sleeves over his hands, crouched down and gripped the rebar, desperation fuelled his muscles, made him ignore the agony of his palms against heated metal and the way his shoulder protested against the strain. With a cry he lifted the rebar and the android scuttled backwards, out of harm’s way.
“Come on,” Gavin urged it.
When it became clear the android couldn’t stand, let alone walk, he crouched down and scooped it up in his arms. They hurriedly stepped over toppled desks, spilled files and debris towards the closest exit. Gavin ignored the burn against his neck where the android’s melted chassis dripped molten plastic on his skin.
Finally, the air cooled a little as they stumbled out into the open and hands were quickly on Gavin, relieving him of the android and a mask was pressed to his face. People were talking around him but he couldn’t make out the words. There was a lot of yelling, more hands on him and then nothing.
Other than Nines, nobody visited Gavin in the hospital. Truth be told he only spent a couple of days there, being treated for smoke inhalation, a couple of hours in surgery to repair the tendon in his shoulder and some time spent with a burns specialist to look over his palms and neck. All in all, he was in pretty good shape for having survived a bomb explosion and then carried out a damaged android through fire and smoke.
At home, he had the days to himself while Nines went to work, helped out with the clean-up of the precinct and tried to regain some semblance of order. He was looking forward to the weekend though, Nines had promised him a lazy couple of days together.
At work, Nines was busy trying to help best he can. All of the androids had been repaired and they’d returned to work while the humans, who were able to, continued as before. Half the bullpen was cordoned off for investigation and damage assessment. After the initial chaos it wasn’t as badly wrecked as first assumed.
An odd benefit of the whole debacle was the fact that lunchtimes had become a close knit affair, everyone huddled together in a meeting room, seeking solace and comfort in each other. Nines took to joining them too and sadly eyed the little jar labelled “Gavin’s Get Well Fund” which had maybe a handful of loose change jangling at the bottom. He made a silent vow to make up the difference himself if nobody else would contribute towards a decent gift.
He didn’t have to though. Fowler strolled into the room, ignoring everyone else as he grabbed the jar and shoved a fifty dollar note into it.
“That’s mighty generous of you, boss,” Miller piped up with a grin. “Not playing favourites, are you?”
A titter went up around the room which died down when Fowler looked over them with a flat stare.
“One of my detectives risked his life to ensure the safety of another officer. I think that deserves some gratitude, don’t you?”
His eyes pointedly looked at the meagre collection of pocket change that had been in the jar before his donation.
“Seeing as none of you are willing to show appreciation for his selfless bravery, I have taken it upon myself to let Detective Reed know that he’s a valued and missed member of this precinct.”
An uncomfortable silence descended on the room and Nines watched in fascination. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. Fowler didn’t disappoint as he started speaking again.
“Let’s make this simple. Who here has ever been assaulted by Detective Reed? Be it verbally or physically.”
The group looked around at each other and only Connor raised his hand.
“You’re a special case; I’ll come back to you in a moment,” Fowler nodded at Connor, “but nobody else?”
“What are you playing at Jeffery?” Hank grumbled, sinking lower in his seat.
“What I’m playing at is the fact that you’re a bunch of blinkered fools ruled by office gossip. Connor, when Detective Reed assaulted you, were you seriously damaged?”
“No.”
“Could he have hurt you?”
“If he were familiar with android anatomy then yes,” Connor paused, “and as a member of the Anti-Android League as well as being a Detective, I imagine he is intimately familiar with how to inflict substantial damage.” His LED flickered red. “Detective Reed didn’t wish to hurt me when we met.”
“No, he didn’t. He was working undercover, his objective was to infiltrate an extremist offshoot of the AAL through befriending one of its members who just so happened to work in this very precinct. It was a risk that he was going to have to get physically violent to prove his loyalty to the faction. The ruse worked. It worked on all of you too.”
“What about the evidence locker?” Connor asked.
“Detective Reed acted in accordance with our rules and regulations. Someone no longer in the employ of the DPD was trying to access the evidence locker. Procedure dictates to approach, assess and apprehend. If the suspect is considered dangerous, backup is sought.”
Miller groaned and dropped his head in his hands.
“Detective Reed was acting fully within the department’s policy. He approached you, figured you were lying but deemed you too dangerous to challenge by himself so he sought support, didn’t he, Officer Miller?”
“And I told him to take his paranoid AAL bullshit and shove it up his ass,” Miller mumbled into his hands. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s not me you have to apologise to. Seeing as time was crucial and backup was not available, Detective Reed tried to resolve matters with minimal confrontation which escalated and he was overpowered. His concussion was one of the more severe cases this precinct has seen Connor. Yet you escaped uninjured even though a gun was pointed at you. No shots were fired. Care to explain?” There was a sad smile on Fowler’s lips as he asked and Connor looked away.
“He didn’t want to hurt me.”
“No, he did not. Yet you all deliberately hurt him. Just think about that for a while.”
Fowler turned to leave then, satisfied that he’d shaken things up at least a little. If there were any further questions, Nines would be able to answer them anyway.
At first everybody sat in silence and thought over the last six months. The almost sudden change in Gavin was one that nobody could chalk up to anything in particular. It had been easy to forget all the good about him in face of the attitude and brashness he exhibited. There was only one constant in all those memories, the presence of Tina Chen who was conspicuously absent. She had a track record for bullying the androids, going out of her way to harm them. Come to think of it, the origin of the blast had been her desk.
Quietly, the group began to mull things over. There’d been a gleeful malice in the air when Nines had turned up at the precinct and designated as Gavin’s partner. Everyone had expected a shit-show of epic proportions. Instead, Gavin had almost sagged and people assumed it was in defeat. In reality, it was relief. Nines had been briefed on the case, brought in as support for Gavin when it became apparent that the rest of the precinct was quite happy to ostracise him.
“Guys,” Hank drew everyone’s attention, “we fucked up.”
The weekend was slow to come but each day Nines walked into the temporary breakroom, there was a little more money in Gavin’s Get Well Fund. It seemed that having the truth come out really shook people up and they were trying to make amends. Miller had even asked to take over being in charge of getting Gavin something and Nines had graciously stepped aside from the role. As much as he wanted to spoil Gavin, he wanted everyone to have at least a chance at reconciling.
It was just after ten on Saturday morning and Nines was on his way home from a few errands. Gavin had run out of shampoo and a few other things which they needed around the house. What Nines didn’t expect was to get to the front door was to have his name called out from further up the street.
“What you doing here?” Miller asked.
Behind him, Hank, Connor and a few of the androids from the precinct peered at him curiously.
“I live here.”
The answer sounded like it was the most obvious thing on earth and nobody dared question Nines. They watched instead as Nines opened the front door and after a beat motioned them inside.
“Gavin, I’m home!” he called but there was no response.
The sound of dished clinking in the kitchen drew their attention and people peered around Nines’ shoulders. Gavin was standing in his kitchen, a pan gripped in a bandaged hand while two bowls were on the counter. One was filled with normal pancake batter while the other had something bright blue. Nobody quite dared move, the picture Gavin made was so far out of the realms of expectation they were worried one wrong step and the illusion would shatter. He was in what looked like a raccoon onesie, glasses perched on his nose and earphones with cat ears sat on his head.
When Nines approached him, Gavin happily wriggled into his grasp, his back to Nines’ chest, with a grin.
“Connect to my music and watch this!”
He flipped a blue pancake high into the air and caught it with a triumphant crow.
“Told you I could do it! Anyway, I’m glad you’re home,” he grinned and turned.
His eyes caught on the group of people crowding in the kitchen door and a blush rushed over his cheeks.
“And you’re brought friends,” he croaked.
Hurriedly, he set the pan back down, whipped the earphones off his head and swiped the glasses from his face.
“Would anybody like some pancakes? I can make extra,” he offered sheepishly, trying his best to hide his outfit. “Let me just get changed into something a little more appropriate. I wasn’t expecting company.”
He darted out, the group parting for him easily and Nines rolled his eyes as he took over the pancake duties, yelling after Gavin to not forget his sling this time. Fairly quickly, Gavin was back, sporting a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt that was several sizes too big for him. From under the neckline, which threatened to fall off his shoulder, a stark white bandage peeked out.
“What brings everyone here?” he asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Nines interrupted and ushered everyone into the living room. He settled Gavin on the sofa and disappear back to get pancakes with a glance over his shoulder. “Gavin found a recipe that’s thirium based and safe for androids to consume.”
They ate in silence, uncomfortable and uncertain what ought to be said until Gavin pushed his plate away.
“So, what’s new at the precinct?” he asked even though he knew everything from Nines already.
“We’ve taken over the second meeting room as a temporary breakroom. I swear the coffee tastes better there,” Chris began.
It got easier from then on. Chatter filled the room as Nines quietly cleared away the now empty plates with Connor’s help. They retreated to the kitchen and let the others babble away. Steadily, Nines popped a series of pills into a ramekin and returned to Gavin’s side.
“Jesus, pancakes not enough for you?” Hank snorted as he quickly counted the number of pills.
Gavin gave a half-hearted shrug.
“There’s an antibiotic, two pain killers, those fuck up my stomach so one to protect that, another is an antiemetic-”
“Oooh, that’s a long word for you Gavin,” Hank teased.
“Turns out dating the world’s most advanced android has its perks. Not that you’d know anything about it. You’ve only got the second most advanced one.”
Hank laughed at that and glanced at Connor fondly.
“You got me there. What’re the other three pills for?”
“Muscle relaxant, anti-anxiety and mood stabiliser.”
Without waiting for a reaction, Gavin poured the pills into his palm and took them with the water Nines pushed into his hand.
“Wait,” Miller looked aghast, “the last two. Since when?”
“Last four months give or take? They work wonders in combination with the precinct’s therapist. Anyway, these pills wipe me out pretty good so, apologies if I nod off.”
Nines settled in next to Gavin. Conversation picked up again and nobody noticed Nines unwrapping one of the bandages on Gavin’s hand. He quietly picked up a tube of ointment and began to massage it into the healed skin of his palm. Soft murmurs of “flex” and “stretch” guided Gavin through his physio regime even as he began to list towards Nines slowly. They did the other hand too, a few people’s eyes lingered on the gentle way Nines rubbed his hands but nobody commented on it, or the sporadic bitten off whine when something hurt more than expected.
“Let’s get your brace,” Nines whispered and Gavin nodded mutely.
He was pliant on the sofa as Nines brought a blue brace out from the bedroom and eased Gavin’s injured arm into it. The strap that crossed over his other shoulder rested on a bit of foam to protect the burns on his neck. Once done, Nines flopped onto the sofa and with casual ease pulled Gavin into his lap.
“Say, Max,” Gavin cracked an eye open to look at one of the androids. “Glad to see you got all fixed up.”
“I’d been meaning to thank you all morning; I don’t think I would have survived if you hadn’t come back for me.” Max looked down at his lap in shame. He’d always gone out of his way to avoid Gavin, believed the worst about him.
“S’okay,” there was a slight slur to Gavin’s words; “anyone else would’ve done the same.”
He pushed his forehead into Nines’ neck; eyes closed and let the soft conversation flow over him.
“Therapist and pills?” Miller asked.
“Don’t get so hung up on it,” Nines retorted. He didn’t want to explain how Gavin had struggled with the isolation, the almost silent bullying from his colleagues. Though he did remind them none too kindly about Gavin’s birthday. Tradition was that the precinct clubbed together for a card and a cake each year. Even at his lowest, when Hank turned up four hours late, hung over and still in the previous day’s clothes, there was a cake waiting for him in the breakroom and a card on his desk. Last October Gavin’s desk had remained resolutely empty and even Fowler had noticed the lack of cake. That had been the catalyst to requisitioning Connor and Nines.
It was impossible to explain in words Gavin’s insecurities, the constant worries and, since the bomb, the nightmares. Each evening Nines made a round of the house, checking that all appliances were off, assessed each fire risk and transmitted his findings to Gavin’s phone so he could look them over before he fell asleep. It wasn’t Nines’ place to reveal all that anyway, though he did allude to the repercussions of wading through a crumbling building that was on fire. How the nightmares got worse as the pain medication wore off and Gavin’s body seized up in agony.
The physiotherapy Gavin endured, the fine balance between keeping things mobile and over stretching healing injuries. Nines hadn’t been there when Gavin came out of surgery, nobody had been around to hold his hand, reassure him that things were going to be fine. When Nines had finally managed to get to the hospital, the nurses shot him some very relieved looks.
“We should get going,” Hank pushed himself up from the chair and put a bag on the table. “We got you a few things to help you get better soon. Chocolates, a game for the console Nines mentioned you have.”
“We also heard that a get well soon teddy is customary,” Max hastened to add and pulled a cuddly toy from the bag to show.
Gavin peered sleepily at it and smiled.
“Thanks,” he managed to mutter.
“Anyway,” Hank took a few steps towards the door, “I hope you recover quickly, we miss you at the precinct.”
“Huh, that sounds quite nice,” Gavin’s voice was barely more than a sigh. “I think I’d like to believe that lie.”
His eyes slipped shut as the drugs finally pulled him back under and he missed the stricken looks on everyone’s faces.
“I’ll see you all on Monday,” Nines said and watched them all file out the door.
He settled more comfortably into the sofa and adjusted his grip on Gavin to better support him and waited for the worst of the drugs to leave his system.
It took another two weeks before Gavin was cleared for light desk duty. He arrived at work with little fanfare, a scarf wrapped loosely around his throat though if he turned his head to the side little drops of shiny pink scars were visible. Much of the precinct had been rebuilt. His desk was in its place and Gavin eyed it suspiciously because it looked like all his knickknacks from before the incident had been meticulously cleaned and put back in place. Even the illegally obtained centre of a Kinder Egg.
He was so caught up in it all; he missed the most prominent thing in the room. A banner, loudly declaring “welcome back” and everyone in the room stood to clap as he plopped down into his chair.
Connor appeared by his elbow with a mug.
“I got you your coffee, Detective.”
“Thanks,” Gavin smiled before fondly adding “dipshit” as an afterthought.
Things weren’t okay, not yet. But it was a definite turning point and for the first time in over six months, Gavin was glad to be at work.