Taking care: part 1
It was a miracle, but not the good kind of miracle. For the first time in Gavin's 'partnership' with the RK900, Richard was silent and obedient. A perfect machine. He spoke only when he needed to, never more. Richard very rarely participated in conversations, preferring to observe from the background. By now Gavin was so used to their banter that he was half expecting the android to pull a random one-liner out of his ass and flash that condescending, self-righteous smirk he had come to know. Instead, nothing.
Today was no different. At 11.14am, when Gavin's purported 'asshole levels' were high (according to Tina at least), the RK900 would drop a cup of coffee on his table.
"Thanks," Gavin murmured gratefully.
So you can say thank you like a good boy? Gavin expected the android to say. Instead, Richard quietly walked over to his desk and continued his work.
Weeks ago, Gavin would have been overjoyed with this. A partner that obeyed orders and didn't ask questions, that had been the dream when he first became a detective. And yet why was it that Gavin wasn't happy? Why did it feel bad for the plastic thing?
"It's because you care," Hank said.
There was that annoying part of Gavin's mind that wanted to remain in blissful ignorance. I don't care about the dickhead, he wanted to say, it's just throwing off my groove. He wanted to say it but he couldn't. There was no use hiding it. There was no use hiding the truth. He did, after all, came to Hank of all people for advice.
Gavin let out a long, shaky sigh. It was as close to an admission of defeat as Gavin would allow. Hank's lips pull up slightly.
"You know, it doesn't make you weaker to show you care."
"I know that," Gavin huffed loudly. He did not, in fact, know that at all. "I just…I just..." He let out a long breath. Why was this so difficult to admit?
Fortunately, Hank was able to fill in the blanks. "You don't know what to do." Hank surmised.
Gavin crossed his arms protectively over his chest as his eyes drifted over to Richard's empty desk. There was nothing on it except the computer and some papers. Even with Richard working there, there was no sign of personality. No sign of life.
"I thought deviants were supposed to, you know, like being deviant," Gavin said. "I ain't ever met an android going through an existential crisis."
"Not everybody handles deviancy well. Connor himself was struggling with it since he was first created. A lot of androids when they become deviant get scared and confused. Living life as slaves to suddenly being your own master, it's a lot to take in. Some resort to crime. Others look for guidance."
Gavin heard news of Markus every now and then, about his ever-growing following, helping the recently deviated and the wayward humans alike. Tried as he might, however, Gavin had difficulty imagining the RK900 joining their ranks. Richard didn't seem like the type to ask for help. "So what does that make him?" Gavin asked quietly.
"Who fucking knows?" Hank sighed. "All I know is that it must be eating him up. And if he's anything like you and Connor, well…let's just say I'm glad I'm not in your shoes."
Gavin frowned. He'd hope Hank of all people would know what to do. I mean, Connor and Richard looked alike and they had the same original directive, surely their similarities were more than skin-deep. Why couldn't Richard go be someone else's lapdog? Why couldn't he go and bug someone else for all eternity?
Why did Gavin's chest feel so goddamn tight whenever he thought about that stupid android?
"Thanks for nothing, Hank," Gavin muttered without the usual bite to his words, stalking off back to his desk. Maybe he could get something done today. His eyes stared blankly at the blank template in front of him. In front of him, he could hear the click-click-clack of Richard typing away on his computer. He tilted his head to get a better view and watched Richard work silently.
Come to think of it, Gavin never took the time to observe Richard when he was not working on a case. The android seemed to have two modes: on-case and off-case, but right now he was on that fine line between the two. Richard's fingers glided over the keyboard making feather-light touches, the pristine white of the computer screen reflected in his not-quite-blue-but-not-quite-grey eyes. The android blinked at such a consistent rate that Gavin found himself counting along. 1, 2, 3, blink. 1, 2, 3, blink.
Richard's head turned suddenly, eyes locking onto Gavin. He could feel himself shrink under the android's gaze. Richard showed no emotion, which only made him all the more menacing and unapproachable.
"Do you need something, Detective Reed?" Richard asked cordially. There were no crude jokes, no snide remarks to be heard. There was not a twinkle of Richard's personality shining through.
Gavin shook his head quickly. "N-no," his lips pulled into a line. "No thanks, Richard," Gavin added.
Richard nodded microscopically and resumed his work. Gavin sighed, forcing himself to look at the computer screen. A few days ago, work had seemed almost fun, in a strange, masochistic way. A few days ago, he had been looking forward to not just the high octane cases, but the quiet, uneventful paperwork that had to be filled out in the precinct. A few days ago, he had been looking forward to working with Richard.
Gavin couldn't look at the computer screen any longer. This sucks, he thought. This really sucks.
Around 6pm, Gavin got the call for a potential burglary. Burglaries weren't normally his jurisdiction but the caller said the burglar had a gun and that their life was in danger, and if he didn't intervene in time, technically it would become his jurisdiction. Besides which, Gavin thought a simple, action-packed case like this would be a welcoming break from the more difficult cases he and Richard had been working through recently. He couldn't concentrate on the computer screen today, he had to move, he had to do something, and if Gavin was being perfectly honest, he hoped the burglar got a little bit physical. Any excuse to get into a fight. Anything to rid himself of the tension in his muscles.
Richard made absolutely no comment on the journey to the house. He was silent throughout the whole trip.
The house in question was in Hank's old neighbourhood. In fact, it was only a few streets away from Hank's old house. Gavin heard that Hank and Connor were now renting a house together and it was so sickeningly domestic and sweet to hear at first but, now that he thought about it, sickeningly sweet suited them. Gavin had never been to Hank's place but he saw it before. It had never been a nice place. The house Gavin arrived at tonight would have given Hank's house a run for its money.
Translation: the house was a crappy brick shithouse. But it was also a crappy brick shithouse with a window smashed in from the outside. Gavin grinned at Richard as he readied his firearm. "Paydirt."
Gavin signalled Richard to round the corner, firearm trained on the front door. There's screaming, and the sound of things being thrown inside. He tried the door with his free hand. It's unlocked. He threw the door open and aimed his gun square at the intruder.
"Police!"
Not a second later, Richard strode in, his own arms at the ready. "Nobody move."
But the couple ignored them, continuing to argue loudly.
"—SO YOU COULDN'T KEEP IT YOUR PANTS, HUH?!" A woman in her late 30s screamed.
"I JUST SAID IT WAS A DRINK WITH THE BOYS!" The man gestured wildly in Gavin's direction. "YOU CALLED THE POLICE ON YOUR OWN HUSBAND?!"
"YOU BROKE MY WINDOW!"
"TRYING TO GET IN BECAUSE YOU FUCKING LOCKED ME OUT, YOU BITCH!"
Gavin glanced at Richard, who seemed more than a bit befuddled. His brows were making increasingly sharp angles. Gavin slowly lowered his gun.
"AND IT'S MY FAULT THAT YOU FORGOT YOUR KEYS AGAIN?!"
"ONLY BECAUSE YOU TOOK THEM WHEN YOU WENT TO SARAH'S AND NEVER GAVE THEM BACK!"
"YOU COULD'VE ASKED!"
Richard glanced nervously in Gavin's direction. Gavin could only shrug. This was not the call he expected, and he certainly wasn't going to play mediator to an angry couple, especially one this loud and annoying.
"WHY IS IT THAT NO MATTER WHAT I SAY, I HAVE TO BE IN THE WRONG?"
"BECAUSE YOU ARE IN THE WRONG! YOU ARE AN IDIOT, FRED! A STUPID, FUCKING IDIOT THAT CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF!"
"I TOLD YOU, IT WAS JUST A DRINK!"
"GAAAGH!" The woman threw her hands up and stalked to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The man, Fred, just stood there fuming. Hot breath exhaled quickly, fists clenched to the side, Fred was a rocket ready to explode.
Gavin took this time to quietly backtrack and leave, motioning Richard to do the same. Once Gavin was outside, he bolted straight for the car, Richard not far behind him. They entered the car and sat in silence, listening as the husband proceeded to trash the house.
"W-wow," Gavin remarked.
"Wow indeed," Richard frowned. "That was…that was something."
"Yeah..."
Richard turned to Gavin, his head tilted. "This is not a normal occurrence, is it?"
Gavin shook his head. "You get calls like that sometimes. Jilted lovers or miffed partners calling the cops on their significant other, it happens. But usually, people stop arguing when a gun is pointed at them." He let out a dry laugh. "Never thought I'd see a relationship worse than ours."
Richard frowned. "We're not that bad."
Gavin glanced at Richard with wide eyes. The android's expression was neutral but Gavin could tell Richard was unnaturally stiff. He glanced down and saw Richard's clenched fist. Down further there was the erratic tap of someone who was tense in anticipation for something that will not come. A man waiting for a fight.
Gavin's lips dipped downward. "No, we're not that bad," Gavin murmured to himself.
He turned back to the wheel and started the car up. That got Richard's attention. "Detective Reed?"
"Do you wanna join me in the gym?"
Richard's brows furrowed in confusion. Gavin continued.
"We both got a lot of pent-up energy still. I won't be able to sleep if I don't get rid of it somehow and I'm gonna need a partner."
Richard's lips quirked up, the first ray of light Gavin had seen in days. "Is the pornography not cutting it for you? I have noticed your activity on those websites have been dwindling as of late."
Gavin's cheeks burned. "It's only because I fucking knew you'd be snooping at my browser history again."
"I didn't hack into any of your devices, actually," Richard smirked. "Just an educated guess. But now I know you are capable of redemption."
Gavin rolled his eyes as he shifted the gears into drive. He can't help the flush of his cheeks at the thought. Redemption? He thought. Haven't had anyone said I was worth redeeming before.
Tonight seemed to be 'confuse Richard' night because that was the only logical explanation for the face he pulled when they stepped into the gym. It was one of those private gyms, not posh enough that only the freaks of nature went but posh enough that it had after-hours card entry with fancy security cameras everywhere. Gavin only chose this gym because when he first signed up, the gym toted its 'all-human' staff like a badge and who was Gavin to deny people their pretty badges?
Gavin flicked the lights on. They were the only ones there. Good. He hated it when there were others. That was why he preferred to come here in the night.
The pair passed through the hallway, bypassing the main area for a smaller room towards the back. Gavin opened the door, stepped inside, and began to chuck his jacket and stuff onto the floor.
Richard stood awkwardly by the door, hands folded behind his back, yellow LED whirring on his right temple. As Gavin removed the holster from his belt, he swore he could feel someone's gaze on him. His head jerked up, just as Richard moved his head elsewhere.
Was…was he checking me out?
Why the hell was Gavin smiling to himself? Why was he getting so flustered?
His jacket, gun, and badge were on the floor, as were his keys and wallet. Gavin contemplated taking off his shirt as well like he normally did but decided to keep it on for today only. It's not like Richard being here was going to be a common occurrence and he'll be damned if he stripped in front of the damned android. He picked up some boxing gloves from a box in the corner of the room.
"I should've figured you would be a boxer," Richard said from behind.
"Why's that?" Gavin called.
"You have strong shoulders and a low centre of gravity," Richard replied matter-of-factly. "You are quite literally built for the sport."
Gavin had to admit, it wasn't the answer he expected. "I was half expecting you to throw an insult my way." He chuckled.
"But I didn't," Richard stated.
All of a sudden Gavin wished Richard had been snooping on his computer after all. For Richard to have analysed him down to a molecular level felt weird. It was partly because it indirectly confirmed the theory that Richard was indeed checking him out and partly because Gavin, from as long as he could remember, had never been checked out before. People liked baby faces or rugged men, and he was in that ugly middle ground his brother had once called 'rat man land'. Did androids even have any opinions on aestheticism or did they have specifically formulated opinions catered to whatever individual they had the misfortune of serving under? Did Richard think he was good looking?
He turned back to Richard who looked at Gavin curiously. His lips dipped slightly. Maybe it was wrong to assume Richard looked at him for any aesthetic reason. Perhaps it was to judge his physical abilities.
Yeah…that had to be it.
Gavin strapped the gloves on and headed for the punching bag. Soon as he approached it, the scent of sweat still heavy in the air, the cold fluorescent lights above him, it was easy to let his mind go. His feet shifted underneath, eyes trained on the old punching bag in front of him showing the first signs of wear and tear, gloved fists close to his chin.
He threw a quick punch. The punching bag recoiled slightly, making that intoxicating 'thud' sound. Gavin threw two more punches, one two. Two more 'thuds'. The siren song of the fight called out to him as Gavin released all his pent-up fury.
Gavin spent a few minutes pummeling on the poor punching bag. In that moment, all he could hear was the thud of his fists colliding to the bag and his blood rushing to his ears and the huffs of his own breaths, heavy in his chest. The punching bag in front of him was a conduit for someone else, taking on the image that mostly took up Gavin's mind. Some days it was some video game boss. Other times, it took on the form of someone who slighted him or annoyed him to the point of aggravation. For a couple of weeks, after Connor attacked him in the evidence room, this punching bag was a substitute for the asshole android.
Tonight was one of those rare days where the punching bag transformed on Gavin's whim, first transforming into the annoying wife and husband from earlier before turning into Captain Fowler. The Captain Fowler illusion didn't last very long. Hank popped up for a few seconds before Gavin's conscience willed it away (he might not like Hank but he wasn't going to beat up a man one foot in the grave). The next logical conclusion was then Connor. That smug smile, his grating cheekiness, that horrid laugh. Gavin punched hard and fast. It was getting him going.
The image of Connor faded and the punching bag took Richard's form.
Gavin hesitated, eyes widening as he took in the imaginary Richard in front of him. Slowly the world was returning to clarity and suddenly he could feel how tired and sore his shoulders were. His arms dropped slowly to his side, still staring at the punching bag.
Why can't I fight him? This one thought circulated in his head. An answer came into his head. I don't want to fight Richard. Gavin turned his head to the real Richard beside him.
I don't want to fight you.
"Drink."
Richard offered a cup of water from out of nowhere. He must have retrieved it just now. Gavin looked down at the cup, then up at Richard. "For me?"
"You lost a bit of water," Richard explained. "I would prefer you to drink something that is more isotonic but this shall suffice for now."
Gavin undid the gloves and took the cup in clasped hands. He gulped it all down in one and handed it back to Richard, wiping his mouth with his slightly-sweaty, slightly-stinky hand. The assault on his nostrils confirmed the stupidity of the action.
"I'm assuming you didn't bring me here to be your coach."
"What gave you that idea?" Gavin remarked snidely.
"You have very good form. Technique wise, you were perfect." Richard said this without the usual haughtiness in his voice. It was polite and nice and very un-Richard-like.
Richard had a point though, Gavin didn't bring him here to just stand there and look pretty. Originally, Gavin brought Richard here under the lame pretences of a spar. He wanted to fight Richard, wanted to pummel or get pummeled. His blood boiled whenever he so much as looked at Richard but for some reason, it felt different this time around, less like flames coursing through his veins and more like molten magma cooling in his bloodstream.
Looking at Richard filled Gavin with some kind of emotion but it's not anger, he realised. It's nothing like anger, it's something quieter, something less obvious but just as powerful. An emotion he did not feel all that often.
What was it? What was this feeling?
"Detective?" Gavin practically threw the gloves into Richard's hands. Richard's eyebrows furrowed. "Detective?" He repeated.
"Put these on," Gavin muttered.
Richard's LED flashed yellow. "Is that an order?"
"Do you want me to order you around?" Gavin grumbled. Cracks of worry spread on his face, threatening to show how much he actually cared about the tin can.
"No," Richard said half-heartedly. He put the empty cup near Gavin's things and strapped the gloves over his hands. "To the punching bag?"
"Yeah. Come on."
Gavin followed Richard to the lone punching bag. Richard kept jarring his head in different directions, which confused Gavin initially until he saw the reason why. Richard's LED was alternating yellow and red.
"Go on then." Gavin gestured at the punching bag.
Richard turned to him slowly. It seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. "Why are you doing this?"
"This deviancy thing has got you all fucked up." Gavin gestured at the punching bag again. "Punch it."
Richard turned and delivered a weak punch. He sighed. "This is beyond idiotic."
"It's not idiotic," Gavin said. "Try again."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Richard rolled his eyes but threw another punch. The form was better but the power was lacking. Gavin knew he could do better. Richard was probably better than him at a lot of other things.
"Harder."
Richard threw another punch.
"Oh come on, you punch like my granny."
"You know, I thought you were better than this but clearly I was wrong. Would you rather we rid ourselves of the pretence and I just suck you off here and now? Would that please you? Do you want me to inflate that insufferable ego of yours?" Richard snarled.
Gavin's lips twitched. "That's a low blow even for you and you know it."
Richard looked down at his feet and scowled at himself. He probably knew his comment was uncalled for. For a few seconds he was unnaturally silent, and when he finally did speak, his voice was quiet. "How do you live like this?"
"Like what? A human? A deviant?"
"How do you live without direction? How can you bring justice when all you've done is cause injustice after injustice? How do you live knowing your life up until this point was a lie?" Richard's voice quivered.
"You're asking the wrong person about this. I ain't got a clue what's gonna happen in my life," Gavin said.
Richard shook his head slightly, letting out a breath of frustration. "Why am I venting this to you? Of course you wouldn't know."
"You're right, I don't know, but I'll be damned if I let you go emo on me like Hank did."
"I'm assuming it's not going to be a reasonable, thoughtful discussion, is it," Richard remarked.
"Nope," Gavin said. "We're just going to punch a bag until we forget how much it hurts."
Richard glanced back and forth between the punching bag and his own, gloved hands. "You know I'm not human. I don't produce endorphins when my fight or flight response kicks in and I don't get 'high' in the adrenaline."
"CyberLife fucked you over with a ten-inch rod and made you its bitch. Some fucking Russians thought it'd be fun and games to hack you and Connor. That couple from earlier can't stop screaming at each other to notice a gun is pointed at them. That makes you very angry, but you don't want to be angry. You don't want to be angry, but you want to hurt something. So our buddy Mr. Punching bag is the substitute."
"So what you're saying to me is that instead of working through my grievances by talking about them, you want me to pour all my negative emotions into fighting an inanimate object?"
Gavin smirked. "I said it wasn't stupid, didn't I?"
Richard stared at the punching bag. Gavin noticed the flicker in his eyes, tiny but significant. He saw the strain in Richard's muscle through his shirt, saw the tension go up his backside and down his arms.
Suddenly Richard threw an explosive right punch. The bag flung forward a fair distance. He turned to Gavin, his brows up in surprise with just a touch of amazement.
"Go for it," Gavin smirked.
Richard unleashed a flurry of blows, all lightning fast and strong. The chain holding the punching bag clanged unpleasantly as his fists moved, left, right, straight, hook, uppercut. His face contorted, showing to the world all the frustration and anger he felt, the betrayal that shook him to his core. Gavin watched as Richard continued punching. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion as he saw Richard's perfect form slip gradually until only pure rage fueled his movements.
When Richard stopped, he had come undone. The android took two steps back, his simulated breaths quick and hot and heavy, eyes glazed. He did not sweat but his perfectly coiffed hair was perfect no more, strands of hair transplanted down over his forehead. Most telling of all was his red LED. Richard glanced at Gavin, eyes wide in amazement.
A smile crept up Gavin's face. Richard wasn't all that bad looking when he was frazzled and vulnerable like this.
"Feel better?" Gavin asked.
Richard glanced downward sheepishly before nodding. "It's…much more effective than I thought."
Gavin bit back a sarcastic remark. Richard's been through a hard enough time. "You let me know if you feel like that again and I'll lend you my gym card."
"That's really not necessary," Richard started.
"That wasn't a question," Gavin said. "You fucking tell me and I'll fucking give the card to you by force if I have to."
"Why are you doing this for me?"
Gavin felt the tightness in his chest again. He felt the cooling of magma in his bloodstream. It was definitely not anger he was feeling whenever he looked at Richard. It was something better.
"We're partners," Gavin said, "and I'll be damned if I let my partner bring me down."
Richard smiled, for the first time with ease. "I'll try not to get in your way then."
"You better not," Gavin smirked.
The two got their things and left the gym, closing the door and turning off the lights. The distance between them when they walked side by side had decreased by 2 centimetres.