Archive of Our Own

Monday

There was a weeklong conference down in Florida about android integration in the workplace. Somehow, Nines and Connor were drafted to attend along with Fowler and Hank to give insight into their experiences and talk about how other precincts could do as well as, if not better than, the DPD.

In no way at all did Gavin pout at being left behind. It was fine, he and Nines didn’t live in each other’s pockets, they were perfectly capable of working independently. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t suck though, Gavin enjoyed working with Nines. To make matters worse, as Collins was the senior officer, he was left in charge. Still, Gavin didn’t sulk; merely he was acutely disappointed in Fowler’s choices and thought he could have done better.

“I expect everything to be as I left it. Show Detective Collins the same respect you show me. I don’t want to come back to the precinct on literal or metaphorical fire,” with those famous last words, Fowler left.

There were the odd giggles and silly moments, almost like children when the teacher left the room. Gavin shook his head, put headphones on and got on with his work. That evening he got a call from Nines, they chatted as he got ready for bed and even though it felt too big to lie in on his own, having Nines’ voice wish him a soft goodnight as he turned the lights off helped.

Tuesday

The next morning, he dropped Nines a message and went about his morning routine. It was all going as expected; work chugged along without a hitch. Shortly after ten, he stood from his desk with a groan and a stretch, coffee was in order.

It was only by luck that he rounded the corner in time to watch a PL700 wobble precariously on a chair as she tried to reach for a mug on the top shelf. She hopped a little to grab it, the chair creaked and toppled and the android fell with a small scream. Gavin lurched to catch her, an arm around her to keep her stead and on her feet. Immediately, people were flooding to the doorway and the mutterings began.

“She fell,” Gavin shrugged, eyes wide when he realised how compromising their position looked, his hand on her chest.

“Did she now?” Collins asked and gave him a hard look.

Quickly, Gavin stepped away, hands up to show he wasn’t trying to grope a colleague. A few people from the back of the crowd moved away, muttering.

“I did take a tumble and Detective Reed caught me,” the android offered.

“I’ll have a chat with you in the Captain’s office. It can’t be easy speaking out against someone in their presence,” Collins shot Gavin a glare. “And let’s not forget that android memories can become corrupt under stress, so interfacing might not reveal the true story either.”

Gavin slinked back to his desk as a few people gave him dirty looks. No doubt the rumour mill was already in full swing, made even worse by Collins taking his “victim” to Fowler’s office for a private chat. By the afternoon, Gavin had all but forgotten about the incident, just a stupid misunderstanding and he was sure the truth would spread around the precinct sooner or later. A few hours of emotional discomfort was something he could deal with. It was time for a coffee break anyway and he walked to the breakroom. Part of him was surprised when and ST300 looked at him with wide, fearful eyes and scurried out of the room. He didn’t think much of it as he tried to find his mug. For some reason, it was next to the sink. On closer inspection, there was a chip in it, right where he’d usually take a sip from. As he picked it up, the handle clattered onto the surface and he sighed. Someone had obviously dropped it and didn’t want to own up. He would just bring in another mug tomorrow, until then Hank wouldn’t mind if he used his probably.

That evening, he didn’t think to mention the incident to Nines. His partner sounded stressed out already, he didn’t need more worries to clog his processors up with, things in Florida were proving a little more resistant to change than anticipated.

Wednesday

The morning briefing was always a fun start to the morning. Gavin slumped in his seat and tried to ignore how nobody would sit next to him. Usually, at least Chen would elbow him into sitting up properly, but even she was conspicuously sitting fir a few other officers.

“Morning everyone,” Collins greeted them all with a broad smile.

He proceeded to give updates on the current cases and assigned new ones. There was a drug bust that sounded interesting but it went to Miller, the robbery to Persons, even the teens brought in for possession of drugs were passed to Chen.

“That’s pretty much it,” Collins grinned and Gavin tried not to open his mouth to query the logic of assigning cases, he only had a light load, having wrapped up a few outstanding reports the previous day.

Their eyes met and Collins’ smile turned nasty.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot,” he sneered. “Old Mr. Stephenson thinks someone has taken his garden gnome. Again. I trust you won’t feel compelled to help him “trip” if you were to go interview him Detective Reed?”

A few titters went up around the room and Gavin gritted his teeth. Mr. Stephenson had dementia, often reported strange items as stolen, only for them to magically turn up where they were. Still, someone had to do it and Gavin forced a smile as he nodded.

“Guess it’s my turn, huh?” he bit out and ignored the jibe.

He drove out to the house and sighed as he looked at the garden gnomes that adorned the garden. It didn’t look like any were missing, if anything, there were actually more than he had anticipated from reading the previous reports.

As far as interviews went, it was pretty straightforward. Once they got past the who he was, who filed the missing gnome report, whether he’d like any tea (asked twice, accepted the first time but never got it and who Gavin was again. It was pretty heart breaking and Gavin wished desperately there was more he could do, but carers came in four times a day already to check on Mr. Stephenson and the police could hardly get involved in a social matter without just cause.

Two hours later, Gavin left reassured that the gnomes hadn’t been stolen but that he was a sweet young man to care. He wasn’t certain Mr. Stephenson remembered that he was a detective or that the person to file the claim of missing gnomes was himself. Still, it got Gavin out of the precinct and he was hopeful that by the time he got back and filed the report, things would be back to their usual.

On his return, people still avoided him, wouldn’t even look at him. Women refused to be in a room alone with him and the PL700 he’d helped could only shoot him sad, sorry looks while everybody else steered her away.

Back home, Gavin sank onto the couch and closed his eyes. He wished Nines was home with him, that they could laugh off the incident together and let Fowler sort the rumours out. But he had no such luxury. He called Nines as he threw stuff in a wok for a stir fry and felt relief flood through him when he picked up.

“Hey,” he began.

“Gavin,” Nines’ reply was terse and distracted.

“Is now not a good time?”

“I have ten minutes. The Captain wants us to go out with the local precinct this evening.”

With a repressed sigh, Gavin made a decision.

“Don’t worry about it, you have a good evening. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Bye Gavin,” Nines replied and the call cut out before Gavin could even reply.

His phone rang again, not half an hour later as he sat down to eat. Gavin’s heart thudded harder in his chest in the hopes that it was Nines calling him back and it was going to be okay. Instead, it was Collins.

“We need you in to cover a night shift.”

Resigned to doing as told, Gavin agreed to be there in the next half an hour.

Thursday

            The next morning, no cases were assigned to Gavin at the morning briefing and he was almost grateful. Following pulling a double shift the previous day, he was ready for a quiet day by his desk. Instead, Collins told him to sort out the archives room. It was a mess and needed to be dealt with, as Gavin didn’t have any major, active cases, he was the ideal candidate. Wordlessly, Gavin nodded and made his way down to the room. Whatever had happened in there, it was a nightmare. Folders were strewn all over the place, boxes of evidence spilled onto the floor. Someone had obviously either gone through it in a hurry or had deliberately wrecked the place.

An hour into the morning and Gavin didn’t feel like he’d made any progress. Everything was out of place; it really needed a couple more people working on it to get it shipshape by the end of the day.

His saving grace came went he went back up to the bullpen at lunchtime. There was a general hubbub as Collins was barking out orders to get a team together. It turned out, there was a situation downtown, a mugger with a knife so officers were being dispatched to locate and apprehend the suspect. Even Gavin was roped in and he sat by himself in the back of a van while everybody else partnered up.

It was just his luck to find the suspect hiding behind a dustbin down a quiet road. He jumped Gavin, the fight was short and vicious, it ended with Gavin being thrown against a lamppost, his shoulder blossoming with agony as the suspect ran. Gavin tried to get his bearings and follow, but fatigue wore him down along with the throbbing of his shoulder. Still, he called it in and hoped that someone else had better luck.

Chen did have better luck. She didn’t hesitate to taser the suspect and hauled him to the waiting car. People high-fived her and cheered on her arrest. When Gavin tried to offer his congratulations, she turned coldly away from him.

His shoulder pulsed in time with his heart and each time he tried to lift a box of evidence, a fresh wave crashed through him. As loathe as he was to admit that he needed help, Gavin made his way up to Collins.

“Mind if I check out an icepack?” he asked as he knocked on the doorframe to the captain’s office.

“Why would you need that?”

Gavin tried to explain what had happened, he didn’t expect Collins to laugh in his face.

“A big tough guy like you can surely deal with a little bit of bruising. Heck, I’m sure you’ll be proudly showing it off in the locker room by then end of the day.” He made a shooing motion to Gavin. “Now get back to work and stop wasting precious police time.”

Defeated, Gavin returned to the evidence locker and tried to continue. It was slow going though, even slower than before. By the time 6pm rolled round, he was more than ready to head home and grab some ice for his shoulder. It wasn’t broken or dislocated, he was certain but it still hurt far too much. He’d even managed to sneak in an hour nap amongst the boxes, certain that nobody was going to bother him.

As he dragged himself back to the bullpen, he ignored the whispers that fell into a hushed silence as he walked past. It didn’t matter though, he caught the gist of it, mutters of “attempted rape” and “anger issues” followed him to his desk. No wonder people avoided him if those were the kinds of rumours going around.

“Reed,” Collins stood on the stairs to the captain’s office, coat on and ready to leave. “O’Hara has called in sick again. And seeing as you’re not done with the evidence room just yet, grab a couple of hours but be back here by 20:30 to cover. Everyone else is swamped with cases so they can’t.”

“Sure,” Gavin shrugged.

It wasn’t like he could argue, and maybe if he did as told, people would realise the rumours weren’t true after all. On his break, he dropped Nines a message.

You got a moment?

All he wanted was to hear his voice, find solace in the knowledge that on Saturday morning his partner will be back and maybe things could return to normal.

I will have a moment to spare in 5 minutes.

Gavin sat in his car and watched the minutes tick by. As soon as the five minutes were up, he dialled.

“What?” Nines picked up tersely.

“I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you,” Gavin mumbled.

“Gavin, we’re both adults so please act like one. I miss you too but I’m not clingy and perhaps you need to learn to appreciate time apart too.”

Gavin was so tired. He swallowed thickly and fought back the tears.

“Sure, sorry,” he managed to push out. “I’ll let you get on with things. See you on Saturday?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nines’ voice had gentled but it was too little too late.

After a garbled goodbye, Gavin ended the call. He let the car seat lean back and decided to sleep rather than grab dinner before going back to work. That night, he at least managed to catch a few more hours of sleep in the evidence room.

Friday

“Go home for half a day,” Collins told him after the morning briefing. “You’re no use like this. Come back in for 14:30. You’ll be needed on the night shift again.”

Gavin didn’t know how he managed to drive back home. All he remembered was falling into bed, still dressed and succumbing to sleep.

His alarm didn’t wake him at two. Instead, he jerked awake fifteen minutes later when he should have been on his way to the precinct already. Quickly, he changed, shoved a slice of bread in his mouth, hurriedly put together a haphazard dinner to have between shifts and threw himself into the car. He was still 15 minutes later than anticipated.

“I’ll let your tardiness slide this once, but don’t doubt that the Captain will be hearing about it,” Collins tutted with a disappointed shake of his head.

It was enough of a threat for Gavin to dip his head and apologise again. He hadn’t meant to be late, he was just so tired both physically and emotionally. People whispered about him, he’d found the word “rapist” scrawled in sharpie across his locker. All Gavin wanted was to sink into the oblivion of sleep for a decade.

“You look knackered,” Carter approached him with a smile, “so have a little pick-me-up.”

The steaming mug of coffee looked like bliss and Gavin had never felt more grateful in his life. If his eyes hadn’t felt so dry with exhaustion, he might have even teared up at the small act of kindness. Instead, he shot Carter a heartfelt grin and accepted the drink, hoping that the stupid misunderstanding was finally coming to an end.

A couple of hours later, his stomach gurgled and twinged with a cramp. Frowning, Gavin cursed his luck and made his way to the bathroom. On his return, there was a fresh cup of coffee and he lifted it in thanks to Carter who was grinning at him. While Gavin wasn’t always the best at taking care of himself, he knew that staying hydrated was important.

Things only got progressively worse. His stomach cramped and he made a further three visits to the bathroom. The more coffee he drank, the worse it got until he stumbled back to his desk and there was no coffee waiting for him. Instead, Carter and a few others were red in the face from laughing and one of them dangled an empty box of laxatives towards him.

Shame and hurt flooded through Gavin. He got himself some water from the breakroom and sipped it slowly, hoping that his stomach would settle soon.

By the time the nightshift started, he could barely stay upright. Exhaustion, pain from his shoulder and the stomach cramps that still plagued him, were enough to have him slumping over his desk. He didn’t sleep but he couldn’t raise his head from his arms. Nobody came over to check if he was okay and he didn’t pick up the phone when Nines had tried to call him. He was done.

The rest of the night, he put his files in order, finished any reports he could, others he left in a way that someone else could easily pick up. Finally, he drafted a resignation letter.

Saturday

In the morning, as the dayshift began to filter in through the doors, he walked up to Fowler’s office. The man was going to be back any minute and Gavin didn’t feel up to seeing the man. As quickly as he could, he put his letter, badge and gun on the desk and turned to leave. He stopped by the locker room, ignored how his door had gained more graffiti and looked at the lock. It was jammed with chewing gum and who knew what else. There was nothing in his locker he couldn’t replace, so with as much dignity he could muster, he walked out the precinct to his car.

It was raining hard, had been all night and he opened his car to chuck his coat and bag in before closing the door to grab the note on his windshield.

Oops.

That’s all it said and Gavin rounded his car to see what had happened. The far side of it was dented and scraped to hell. The wheel was buckled and it was going to have to be towed.

“Oh dear, did you get in someone’s way?” Johnson teased with malice. “That’s all you are, aren’t you? In the way. It’s no surprise your android didn’t want to come back as soon as he could. Took a day off to stay away from you is what I heard.”

Gavin bit his lower lip to stop it from wobbling. He’d seen Fowler’s and Hank’s cars in the carpark, probably managed to avoid them by a minute at most. Part of him had hoped Nines would see his empty desk and come out to the carpark, but now he knew the truth. Nines hadn’t even come back to work yet.

Mustering up as much dignity as he could, he tried to grab his things from the car. Except it had locked itself. Gavin cursed at technology and automatic locking. He could see his bag and coat in there, knowing that his wallet and phone were hidden in pockets. So much for calling a taxi to get home then. It wasn’t like he wasn’t already soaked to the bone; he had nothing left to lose. Silently, grateful that the rain hid the tears he couldn’t hold back anymore, he began the long walk home.

            In the bullpen, Fowler stared at the letter in his hands. It made no sense, when he’d left everything had been fine, no hint of issues at all.

“Anderson! Collins! My office now,” he called.

“What happened?” he asked and threw the letter in front of Collins.

The man gawped at it, face paling as he read.

“It was a small misunderstanding, that’s all,” he stammered.

“Very small, I’m sure. Where is Gavin now?”

“His car’s still in the carpark. But I think Johnson saw him leave on foot.”

Fowler sighed and motioned for Collins to sit down.

“You and I are going to have a long chat. Hank, call Connor and Nines in. And go find Gavin.”

Hank nodded and Fowler looked down at the letter on his desk.

“Scratch that,” he stood up. “I’m coming with you. Collins, you’d better have a good excuse for all this by the time we’re back.”

They took a squad car and began to drive towards Gavin’s home. Rain poured from the sky, cold and with enough force to sting. As he drove, Hank called Connor and asked him to get to the station with Nines, and to bring Sumo too. He had an inkling they were going to be working later than expected.

“There!” Fowler pointed at a lonesome figure trudging slowly down the road.

Carefully, Hank pulled over and wound his window down as he shouted for Gavin. The man flinched as he looked up, eyes rimmed red. He took a stumbling step backwards, away from the car. To an outsider, it could have been a perp resisting arrest and Fowler hopped out of the car to approach him.

“Get in the car Gavin, you’re not in any trouble,” he tried to reassure him.

Hesitantly, Gavin walked up to the car but stopped when his hand landed on the handle.

“I’ll ruin the seats like this,” he croaked.

“Don’t care,” Fowler shrugged and helped open the door. “I care more about you than a damn car.”

Back at the precinct, he and Hank flanked Gavin as they marched back to the office; Connor was there within a minute while Nines was left to hold Sumo back. Fowler tossed Hank the master key to the lockers with instructions to get Gavin’s spare clothes for him while Connor conducted an investigation into what had happened.

“Go in there, take Sumo,” Hank said to Nines was he walked past.

Throughout the whole thing, Gavin had stood, dripping wet in the office, eyes glued to the floor. His arms were wrapped around his midriff in clear misery and cold, only nodding or shaking his head minutely when addressed. When Hank returned, there was a fire in his eyes as he put his own hoodie and sweats which belonged to Connor on the table.

“Nines, gather everyone in the meeting room please,” he thundered. “Jeff, a word with you while Gavin gets changed.”

The two of them left, letting the walls turn foggy to give privacy to Gavin. Connor approached, his LED a fiery red and mouth set in a hard line.

“What’s going on?” Fowler asked.

“His locker’s got crap written all over it, the lock is jammed with gum and everything in it is soaked in piss,” Hank growled.

“I have gathered evidence, Captain,” Connor piped up. He glanced over at Nines who was interfacing with a PL700. “I’ve put it onto your phone.”

Immediately, Fowler pulled his phone from his pocket and began scrolling, his eyebrows rose with each line he read. It was obvious when Nines got the list as well; he appeared by Fowler’s elbow, the PL700 in tow.

“I’m sorry Captain,” she simpered, “I did try to correct them.”

“Get in the meeting room,” Fowler snapped and passed the list to Hank. “Nines, could you please keep Gavin company for a minute? I’ll be there shortly.”

“I’ll go start the meeting, join us when you’re ready.” Hank’s voice was low and he stormed towards the room with Connor hot on his heels.

Fowler took a deep breath, looked up through the open door where Gavin had his hands buried in Sumo’s fur, curled over the dog for a scrap of comfort. He walked in and crouched down next to Gavin.

“I am so sorry,” he began. Gavin flinched and looked up at him; the bags under his eyes more pronounced than Fowler had ever seen them before. “Do you have a spare set of keys to get in? It will likely be a few hours before we can get your bag from the car.”

Gavin shook his head.

“So how were you going to get into the house once you walked home?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Okay, tell you what. I’m going to get everything sorted for you, okay? In the meantime, we can dim the lights in one of the cells and you try to get some sleep. Nines and Sumo will stay with you. Nobody will bother you.”

Mutely, Gavin nodded and let Nines lead him to an empty cell. There, he pulled the hood up over his face and curled up on the bench that doubled up as a bed. He didn’t react when Nines draped his coat over him, but grabbed at Sumo’s fur when he lay down on the floor next to him.

Nines sank to the floor behind Sumo and kept watch, waiting for Gavin to reach out for him. The hand never came. But at least he didn’t shrug Nines off him when he finally broken and tangled his fingers with Gavin’s.

In the meeting room, Fowler stood next to Hank and Connor with a sad frown.

“I am very disappointed in you all,” he began. He put his phone on the podium and began to read out the list.

“Bullying, unauthorised change of schedule to the point of slavery, denial of medical treatment, grievous bodily harm that could be classed as assault, abuse, property damage. These are all things we have sworn to eradicate from this city. Not inflict it upon one of our own because of a rumour. One unfounded in truth, built entirely on hearsay and wilful ignorance of witness testimony.”

And uneasy silence settled on the room, nobody dared look at Fowler.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves. Getting so caught up in a lie, perpetuating it and the torrent of abuse without stopping to think. Driving your victim to the brink. I cannot suspend an entire precinct but there will be repercussions. Internal Affairs will be notified and it is well within the realms of reality that this will become a legal case. You are dismissed for now.”

People filtered out of the room under the glare of Fowler, Hank and Connor.

“What can we do?” Connor asked.

“Apologise and try to put things right.”

They tried to plan what they could do in Fowler’s office, drafted a letter for Internal Affairs and waited for the tow truck to arrive. When they saw Gavin stumble out of the cell and towards the bathrooms, they knew they needed to talk to him.

Sumo was glued to Gavin’s leg, his nose nudged at his hand wetly each time Gavin’s fingers fell lax by his head. On his other side, Nines stood close, followed them to Fowler’s office.

“Gavin,” Fowler spoke softly.

At least Gavin didn’t look quite like a drowned rat anymore as he sat there, Sumo’s head in his lap.

“I cannot express in words how truly sorry I am for what has happened. I’ve drafted a letter to Internal Affairs; they aren’t going to get away with what they have done. What I need to do now though, is figure out what I can do to help you. Do you really wish to resign?”

Gavin peered at them tiredly before sullenly shaking his head.

“Okay, that’s good. As far as anybody is concerned, I haven’t seen the letter, and your gun and badge were just being inspected here. Would you like to transfer to a different precinct?”

The silence stretched and Gavin finally shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to make any decisions now,” Fowler tried to reassure him. “Why don’t you and Nines take two weeks off, paid but not coming out of your holiday allowance? We’ll keep in touch and figure things out.”

“I’ll take you guys home,” Hank volunteered and pushed himself upright.

The two weeks that followed were hard. Gavin pulled himself together, once he caught up on sleep, ate properly and had time to think about everything, he was at an utter loss. Throughout it all, Nines was next to him. Questions like “do you want them fired?” and “would you want a promotion?” were asked and each time Gavin said no. He didn’t want to be vengeful; he didn’t want a pity promotion that he didn’t work hard to earn. All he wanted was to return to his job and forget everything that had happened. If only everybody else could do that too.

In the end, nobody was fired but Collins, Johnson and Carter were suspended for a month. Everyone had to attend training on workplace ethics and Gavin was paid a hefty sum in compensation. He thought of it as hush money though. Not like he would have outed the incident to the press anyway.

Perhaps the worst of returning to work was the overly polite niceness of everyone. He had a new mug in the cupboard, was assigned cases that would obviously put him on a fast track towards a promotion, people smiled at him with a mixture of nerves and pity. He couldn’t cope with it. After a week he had hoped it would abate but nothing changed.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he confessed to Nines in bed late one night. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“Okay,” Nines replied and stroked a hand over Gavin’s shoulder. “What should we do instead?”

That made Gavin pause; the “we” had such a weight. He didn’t want to pull Nines from his job and deep down, he didn’t want to quite either. But it was overwhelming, having the people who mocked and hurt him change so suddenly.

In the end, Gavin didn’t resign, nor did he put in for a transfer. He thought long and hard about it, talked it over with Nines repeatedly, even had a meeting with Fowler about his option. Despite everything, he decided to stay though. Not because of a sense of duty or love, but rather because he knew that once he got the promotion, he could lead by example and ensure what happened to him never happened to anyone else under his care.