Chapter 6/20: Demons


"You were scared." - Hank Anderson


...in which Nines seeks advice, realizes that he also likes dogs, and we get some glimpses into Gavin's life aside from the DPD.


NINES

~ NOV 10TH, 2038 * PM 09:45 ~

The butterfly knife danced across his knuckles. Over, under, a spin, a throw. Nines had his eyes closed shut and brows furrowed as he focused. Horizontal, vertical, horizontal again. He almost dropped it.

#

| SCANNING... |

.

1%

STRESS LEVEL: 65%

MIND PALACE = FUNCTIONAL

PROCESSING LED = SEVERE SIGNS OF SOFTWARE INSTABILITY | PROBABILITY OF SELF-DESTRUCTION: MEDIUM

.

ERROR(S) FOUND

- VIRUS DETECTED: RA9.EXE

.

PREVIOUSLY EXECUTED PROGRAMS

- RA9.EXE

50/50 RED WALL(S) BROKEN

.

- EMERGENCYANTIVIRUS.EXE

EMERGENCYANTIVIRUS.EXE EXECUTION INTERRUPTED

100%

.

I AM DEVIANT

I AM DEVIANT

I AM DEVIANT

#

RA9. The letters had kept flickering in his program, urging him to carve them down, but whatever ounce of self-control he had left resisted. Feelings had increased tenfold ever since he'd interfaced with Markus. Rupert had infected him with the deviancy virus, his red walls having been steadily built at expressions of apathy, and torn down at expressions of empathy.

His current state was awful, with insufficient data, and the loss of control left him lost. Nines hadn't chosen to deviate. Seeing Markus' dying, and feeling him dying, had forced him to. It was an emotional shock against his will. His first instinct had been to inform Amanda of the malfunction so he could have himself reset and remove any instabilities. Nevertheless, one of said feelings kept him back. If he was revealed a deviant then Amanda would have him decommissioned. Nines didn't want to die. He knew now how that felt.

#

STRESS LEVEL: 66%

...67%

...68%

...69%

...70%

#

Just on the verge of a breakdown, the door before him pushed open.

A familiar voice snapped him out of it.

"Nines?"

#

STRESS LEVEL: 70%

...69%

...68%

#

"I am aware that you told me to specifically 'give you a call' and not arrive at your door, but I was in the neighborhood. Do you mind?"

Hank sighed. "Working with Connor, I've gotten used to it at this point," he replied, pushing up the door for him and stepping aside. "At least you didn't break my fucking window. Come on in." If he hadn't seen Connor's memories, such a statement would seem ludicrous. Hank then appeared uncertain. "I, uh... take it you're not gonna use that."

Nines' forehead creased before recognition dawned on his features. When he finally remembered to sheathe the knife, Hank visibly relaxed. He stepped across the threshold and it wasn't long before an eager bark gained his attention. Eyes narrowing to slits, he turned his head, a Saint Bernard lumbering towards him. He'd registered the dog hairs on Hank's desk - as well as on both Hank's clothes and Connor's uniform - so it was expected. Its demeanor proved joyous until it whined and fell onto its behind few feet away.

The dog cocked its head and stared at him dolefully. Such a gesture reminded him a lot of his predecessor.

"Well, he's confused shitless now. I call him Sumo. Took him in when his original owner was victim of a homicide," Hank commented.

Obviously, the dog had thought he was Connor.

"I'll have to apologize that I wasn't who you expected, but allow me to introduce myself," he said, bowing his head. "My name is Nines. I'm the other android sent by CyberLife."

A pleased bark followed before leaving him to his own devices. Curious, Nines watched him amble to his food bowl.

"Looks like he's taking a liking to you."

"It appears so. Judging by what just transpired, I assume Connor isn't here?"

"Not at the moment, no," he replied, sitting down in a kitchen chair. "So what can I do for you, son? You took a big risk coming here. I hear they're detaining any androids they can find."

"I'm allowed to continue my investigation under strict rules that I'm currently disobeying. It's my hope you can keep this between us."

Hank held up a hand. "You have my word."

"I was under the impression you could help me understand what you humans call 'morals.' What is correct and what is incorrect. Fair and unfair," he said, turning to face him fully. "You made this point back at the DPD and I would ask to acquire more data on the subject."

"Don't think I'm the right guy to ask this... but if you think it'll help, I suppose you could do worse," he replied, chin rising. "Determining morals is up to you as a person. Say, slavery or discrimination is always bad. Killing is usually bad, but then you have to take other things into consideration. Was it self-defense or did you attack unprovoked? Was the target a bad guy or innocent? Some say it doesn't matter and that killing is murder. Others see the greys - a middle ground between black and white - making an exception."

"I see. Perhaps you can describe emotions in the best way possible so I know why they occur and what they mean. That way, it'll... help me understand these deviants better and see things from their perspective."

In truth, he was the one that wanted to understand. His visit had nothing to do with his investigation.

"That's a difficult one. If I were to describe each, we'd be here all night. I wouldn't know how to put 'em all in words, either, but... name one and I'll do my best."

"According to deviants, 'fear' is what is most commonly... simulated."

"Fear is when your heart rate goes up and you become more attentive to everything around you. Like you're expecting to be jumped or find yourself unable to think rationally enough to make a decision. Often followed by freezing up to calculate your options. It usually triggers a 'fight or flight' response. For you androids, I'm confident feeling fear is the result of irrational instructions. You're programmed to follow one way, but when you're presented with another alternative, you feel fear - get scared - because you're gonna have to make a decision. Ever felt anything like that?"

Yes.

...but he couldn't allow Hank to know that.

#

NEW DATA SAVED

#

With the new data in mind, Nines took a moment to find the right words before voicing his thoughts.

"I see it more like wanting to understand. I have insufficient data on the subject and know that more info is always preferable."

"You said 'wanting' to understand."

"It's a figure of speech," Nines replied, getting defensive.

Hank wasn't buying it. "From where I see it, you just experienced that exact emotion. You froze up. It's also common to make up excuses. Admitting fear leaves you vulnerable. Being a computer program, control must be important to you."

"I'm a machine, lieutenant. I don't feel anything."

I shouldn't.

Hank took a moment to study him before speaking up.

"You're deviant, aren't you?"

Briefly, his LED went red. It was enough to give him away before he could turn it blue. Records confirmed Hank had always been a great detective and there was a low probability that Nines would be able to fool him.

He caved.

"Deviancy... prevents me from seeing my mission through. Emotions cloud rational judgment. I don't want them," he replied, taking note of Hank's confused frown. "I wasn't programmed with the capability of deviancy. I was never introduced to morals - thus I can't see right from wrong - which is what makes me so effective. I was incapable of making any form of decision on my own. My predecessor, and any other android of the RK-series, were capable of disobeying direct orders - as long as it doesn't conflict with their main priority - before deviation. I never could."

"Your program is similar to Connor's, right? I'm sure you're presented with options to tackle a situation."

"Connor's programming was my base, but it's been significantly improved upon. I was always hardwired to one option. The highest probability of success canceled out every other calculated option. Say, if I was Connor at that roof, I wouldn't have the option to save you."

"CyberLife didn't even give you that, huh?" Hank asked, before letting out a scoff. "Fucking assholes."

Nines frowned at that. "I fail to see how this is a bad thing."

"It's certainly in favor of your mission and not you as an individual. Free will... hell, you probably don't understand that."

"What's the purpose of free will when the right decision can be made for you?"

He took a moment before responding. "Because CyberLife's decisions aren't the right ones. For once, they condone slavery of free-thinking individuals. Keep you on a short leash," he replied, pointing to Nines' neck. "That collar of yours gives that impression."

Hank was right. The collar was there to restrict his movement. To brand him rather a 'pet' in need of a collar than a 'human.'

"I personally don't see the appeal of deviancy and I certainly don't understand why anyone would willingly choose it. In my machine state, I was incapable of making mistakes," he replied, recalling back to not too long ago. "Earlier this evening, Detective Reed and I paid a visit to Carl Manfred. Markus himself was just leaving the premise when we arrived and chased him to the end of the street. I caught up with him and he... shared the memory of his death. An emotional shock. It was an unpleasant experience."

Hank rose his chin. "You were scared."

'Scared.' There was that word again. He didn't like the sound of it.

"I failed in capturing him because of it."

"So you fucked up. That's part of being alive, Nines," he replied, shrugging. "There are plenty of pleasant emotions that I'm certain you've experienced as well. Unfortunately, we can't pick and choose. It's all or nothing."

Nines took another moment. "How do you stand it?"

"Frankly, some of these emotions are the only thing keeping me alive," he replied, a hint of sadness touching his eye. "Ever since my son died, I forgot the positive things in life. The grief was too much. I had Sumo, and despite how much that helped, even he wasn't enough. Then Connor came barreling into my life and it was as if I'd gotten another son. He was lost and I saw you being in those same shoes. I suppose that's how I was so quick to take you under my wing. I know it's scary... but I can promise you it's worth it. There's nothing wrong with you, Nines."

Somehow, he believed him.

That still didn't change that his current state was quite undesirable.

#

STRESS LEVEL: 65%

#

"You all right, son?" Hank asked, Nines snapping out of it and blinking back into reality. "You zoned out a bit there."

Nines closed his eyes tightly. "That... sorry. That wasn't my intention. My stress levels are above adequate and my program doesn't quite know what to do with it. Deviancy has left me in a constant state of anxiety."

"That why you keep spinning that knife of yours?"

He hadn't even realized.

"Not quite," he replied, halting its movement. "Deviancy by emotional shock - a forceful release of the virus - results in obsessive-compulsive writing. A vain attempt by my program to regain control. I've no wish to cover your walls in letters and keeping my hands busy prevents such a thing from happening. I suppose you can see it as a form of short-lived, episodic seizure. I had hoped it would help my stress levels in the same sense. It appears that's not the case. How do humans deal with stress?"

"Depends on you as a person. Say, I sometimes take to smoking, but don't do that... it's only temporary. Also proven to make it worse. Others do things that make them happy, spend time with a loved one, maybe a pet..." Just as he'd said that, Nines felt something push against his leg. He looked down to see Sumo staring up at him. Hank gestured to him. "Try Sumo."

The dog barked hearing his name, his tail wagging.

He had probably sensed his inner distress as he knew that was one of many famous abilities the canines had. In a way, it was as if they had their own natural scanner - much like androids - when it came to physical and or mental observation.

"Would he be okay with this?"

"Sumo? He'll bask in any attention he can have. His size makes him look one hell of a lot scarier than he is. Wouldn't hurt a fly."

Albeit reluctantly, Nines genuflected before the dog. He wasn't sure what to expect. Sumo lightly pushing his head to Nines' chest, however, was not it. Data told him such a thing was a form of affection in the animal kingdom.

He reached out to scratch the dog behind the ear and Sumo appeared to like that. His other hand followed, Sumo pushing into it, and Nines probably would've tipped over was he human. He assumed it was their way of hugging like humans did. Not before long, he found himself wrapping arms around him, nuzzling into the fabric of his fluffy - almost tricolor - fur coat.

It was... nice.

#

STRESS LEVEL: 64%

...63%

...62%

...61%

...60%

#

Slowly but surely, his LED went from yellow to blue. He saw the appeal of dogs now. Eventually, he let go of Sumo and felt somewhat at peace.

#

STRESS LEVEL: 20%

#

Nines rose to his feet. "If I have any more questions, can I seek you out again?"

"Door's always open, son," he replied, before hesitating. "Or, well, maybe not between 12 and 7 a.m. unless it's an emergency."

"Understood. Thank you, lieutenant."

"You need a ride back to the precinct?"

"Although I appreciate the offer, I'm making another visit. I'll manage."

Hank nodded. "All right, then. Do what you gotta do," he said, shooing him out "...and be careful!"

He left the building feeling a hint lighter.


GAVIN

~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * AM 01:45 ~

"So there's no chance you'll stay the night?"

Gavin puffed a laugh. "Keep that mindset about guys you pick up in bars and you'll only get disappointed."

"Speaking from experience?"

"That's a question above my paygrade, pal," he replied, keeping his belt unbuckled. "Where's the restroom?"

"Question above my paygrade," the guy teased.

"Yeah, and common fucking decency considering I made you see stars a couple minutes ago," he replied with no real bite and a smile, the guy chuckling as he pointed the way. "Thanks, prick."

"You're welcome."

Admittedly, he was one of the nicer guys Gavin had hooked up with.

It felt like ages since his last serious relationship - around his middle twenties - so it was about a decade ago. Lasted a couple years, even. Ever since then, he never slept with the same person more than once.

It was less complicated that way.

He was well-aware he could simply go to the Eden Club to avoid such conversations, but his standards were higher than that. The people he was with needed to have a mind of their own. Not only that, but paying for sex never sat well with him, and he had a strong distaste for the people that did. Perverts whose standards were so low they'd fuck anything - even a glorified toaster on legs - and not be ashamed. People that couldn't get a living, breathing human being to sleep with them without chucking a couple dozen dollars their way.

Part of him craved the familiarity of waking up next to the same face every morning instead of alone, but once he put his job first, that didn't work out. He'd pushed everything else aside in order to focus. Once he did, he developed self-destructive habits, doing nearly everything in his power to please the higher-ups and rise in rank. Took all the night shifts when there was more action so no one else had to take the risks. Worked overtime. Started to drink far more coffee than he should.

He realized he was a lot like his mother. The revelation left a bad taste in his mouth as he'd tried so hard not to be.

It had been draining. Every day, he felt it. Family, friends, boyfriends, everything was pushed away. Deemed unimportant. At this point, he was indifferent, apathy being part of his personality.

The common man had needs and thus he found a middle ground. For now, a couple one-night-stands a month was enough. A temporary stress relief just like smoking. After they failed to catch Markus - which certainly would've given him that sergeant badge - he needed to keep his mind off it by getting busy with something else.

Sex was one of the ways.


~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * AM 02:13 ~

Returning home was about a twenty-minute drive.

It was a quiet night. His apartment complex lay in silence, a light breeze in the air without the ruckus of passing cars. Although his stomach was practically growling at this point, he was too tired to do anything about it.

Taking the elevator and pushing up the now fixed door several floors up, Gavin froze when seeing the lights were on.

He could've sworn he'd locked it.

A brief panic washed over him and he immediately went for his gun. Nevertheless, directing his gaze further inside, he was only to see a familiar figure by the window fidgeting with a butterfly knife. The fidgeting stopped. Paws was peacefully lying in the couch with half-lidded eyes as if this was a normal occurrence. He was suspicious as hell to strangers, but yet there he was. It was downright insulting how he'd become so accepting to an android of all things.

Gavin let out a breath he'd apparently held and lowered the weapon. Just as he'd hoped he was rid of him for the rest of the night, something like this had to come and kick him in the shin.

"Who the fuck let you in?" he demanded, throwing his keys into the nearby tray and placing his gun next to it.

"Officer Chen, detective."

Traitorous bitch. He almost regretted giving her that key. Now she'd probably given Nines his own.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, crouching down to an approaching Schipperke to give him the requested attention. "What do you want, plastic? As if I didn't get enough of you back at the precinct."

"When we arrived for you to have a change of clothes, I took note of how your fridge was nearly empty and made some arrangements."

Eyes ascending, he'd completely failed to register the bags on his kitchen counter before now. He was that tired. Not only that, but the entire situation was hard to comprehend. The fact that Nines had gone out of his way in order to assist him like that was headache-inducing. Expression reflecting his confusion, his eyes once darted from the bags to Nines.

"Jesus, did you rob the entire store?"

"Obviously not. According to the size of said store, this is merely -"

"It's a saying, dipshit."

"I'm aware it's a saying. I merely humored you," he replied, pocketing the knife - then hands - before turning to face him. Gavin rose to his feet. "It's on CyberLife."

If his eyes didn't betray him, Nines almost looked as tired as he felt. Although his eyelids had been heavy since day one as if he was bored to death - mirroring his constant unimpressed and arrogant demeanor - his actual eyes appeared somewhat dull. Unfocused. His hair was also more disheveled than usual. Nines' voice still oozed confidence, but something seemed off.

"You seriously expect me to believe those pricks give two shits about us grunts?"

"Not exactly... but their firewalls are incompetent at best."

Taking the statement in, he only came to one rather shocking conclusion.

"You hacked CyberLife?"

"Yes," Nines replied nonchalantly, completely taking him off-guard. "They make billions every year. I can assure you this would go straight past their radar. Congratulations. You're an accomplice, now."

Gavin took a moment. "Any chance you'd share their bank account details?"

"If I did, I'd have to kill you. I doubt your corpse will prove useful to the investigation."

"Was worth a shot," he said, scanning him with his eyes. "You look like shit."

"Warren issued a detaining order at exactly 9:25 p.m. and I was spotted outside the premise. You already know of the civilian curfew that was set in motion at 6 a.m. After recent events, all androids are to be handed in and sent to camps to be exterminated," he explained, releasing a hand from his pocket. Nines glared at his own wrist as brows drew tight. When Gavin saw the red flecks on his sleeve, however, dread emerged. "I was... distracted. They got the upper hand." Palm flat forward, Gavin took a step back, closer to the gun. Icy grey rolled. "They were merely incapacitated." Nines almost seemed offended at the insinuation and allowed him to relax again. "A broken nose doesn't take a lot of effort to recover from."

Gavin exhaled. "Jesus... As long as you don't bleed out on the floor, I couldn't care less. Whatever you're here for, it can wait."

Even after he registered Nines opening his mouth to respond, Gavin didn't allow him. He needed to take a shower. Nines was a machine, so it wasn't like he'd mind. Then again, it wouldn't be any different was he human. After washing off the smell of sex, he returned to the kitchen.

"Done?"

"...and here I was hoping you'd get bored and fuck off."

Nines shifted. "I don't 'get bored,' detective."

If he didn't know better, Gavin would've thought he was lying. He flagged it off.

"Just my luck."

Approaching the counter, he made a quick scan of what Nines had brought and was surprised to find just about every orderable meal in nearby Detroit. It was crazy. Considering how food wasn't exactly cheap around these parts, it had to be quite the few hundred bucks for all of it. Why Nines didn't just pick up the first thing he found was another story.

"At this point, you'd have to warm it up. I also took the liberty to prepare coffee while you were in the shower."

He appreciated the gesture, but he wasn't about to voice the gratitude to a toaster.

"Oh, great, so you are a housemaid."

"Not by far. I simply know how even less likable you are without it. Surprising how that's possible," he replied, Gavin flipping him off. "I didn't know what you preferred and Tina was unavailable, so I asked around the office. They didn't seem to know."

"The fuck did you expect?"

"Maybe one or two suggestions. None... was not it."

Have you even met me?

He wanted to ask in all its sarcastic glory, but kept quiet. Nines didn't need to know about his personal demons and neither did he want to share them. He hadn't before and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now.

"It should suffice," Nines added.

"You're good, plastic. Don't pull a muscle... or cord or whatever."

"Circuit."

"Same shit," he replied, shoving some food into the microwave and closing it shut. "Why are you here, anyway? Made a breakthrough?"

"No... but you're no good to me dead."

In some way, it was a social call. Seemed like Nines really was trying to make this partnership work.

Gavin wouldn't let his guard down that easily, though.

Keeping a hand busy, he grabbed the coffee mug Nines had prepared and took a sip. Turns out the toaster knew how he liked it. It was way past eleven, but with his insomnia, he was confident he wouldn't get any sleep anyway. He couldn't see the point in holding it off until morning.

"I know we didn't exactly start off on the best foot," Nines said, Gavin's amused 'no shit' laugh his answer "...but I'll have you know that I've had little issue with our partnership. Your skillset isn't lost to me, and despite our differences, we've made a great deal of progress in a short period of time. Your dedication is obvious and the only thing I can ask for is a competent partner. You fit that category."

"Fucking hell, just get down on one knee already."

"I'm afraid you'll need more than your looks to land me, detective."

"Yeah, I'd have to learn the Eden Club sexbot coding -" he rebuked in sarcasm, mug halfway to his mouth before he froze. Gavin couldn't help but do a double-take and grimaced. "Did you just hit on me?"

"For me to 'hit on' someone would insinuate that there was either an attraction or attempt at manipulation on my part, and obviously, that's not the case. I'm merely stating facts. According to statistics, your physical appearance is well-above average. If you've ever made the assumption that someone was attracted to you for your less than agreeable personality, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you." What the fuck? As much as he'd never admit it, the downright brash statement and backhanded compliment had him staring in uncertainty. The smug look of acknowledgment appearing on Nines' face made him want to deck him. Nines' brows shot up. "Speechless? Well, isn't that cute."

If he didn't know about Gavin's physical attraction to him before, he sure did now.

"You got a problem with that?" he demanded, glaring.

"Provided you won't be too distracted and compromise the mission... no. I don't."

"Great!" he exclaimed, the enthusiasm faked. "So can you get the fuck outta my apartment now?"

"Unfortunately not. I'm only allowed outside as long as I have you to monitor me with your presence," he replied, leaving him stunned. "Leaving the premise without you would be a risk to us both."

Just great. They were roommates now. He wanted to shoot something. Preferably Nines.

"Motherfucker..."

"I'm no less ecstatic than you, detective."

Gavin put down the mug. "Fucking fine, then. Hand it over," he said, reaching out only to receive a puzzled look in return. "Your jacket, tin can. Or is that thing glued to you? Human blood doesn't just evaporate. Can't have you walking around looking like a serial killer."

He simply took a moment to study him first and Gavin got more agitated with each passing second of being analyzed. Eventually, Nines complied. Shucking said jacket off with stupid finesse, he held it out for Gavin to snatch it from him. The sleeves of his tight-sitting turtleneck only reached as far as to his elbows - because of course they did - permanently flashing defined forearms.

Why the fuck did they have to design these assholes to be perfect?

Nines finally spoke up. "With that out of the way," he said, readjusting a folded flap on one of said sleeves. "I'll have you know I need to recharge for my unit's full functionality."

"Just... sit down, and for the love of god, close your eyes," he replied, Nines taking a seat on the couch. "You need an AC outlet or something?"

He was only half-joking.

"No -"

At the abrupt end of his response, Gavin stopped in his steps towards the washing machine and turned to see that Paws had curled up on Nines' lap. A hint of surprise washed over Nines' face as he seemed unsure what to do.

Appearing entranced by the blue light on Nines' forehead, the dog stood on his hind legs and started pawing after it, but Nines' height wouldn't allow him. His LED began to flicker, blue, yellow. Paws' muffled barks echoed as he stuck his ass out and looked ready to jump up. Nines simply scratched the canine behind his ear - uncharacteristically gentle as if worried he'd hurt him - apparently being enough to distract Paws as he happily pushed into it. He could tell Paws wasn't the first canine Nines had interacted with considering the hairs on the RK jacket.

One hell of a guard dog he was.

"Your lights are glitching out, tin can."

"I was rewriting crucial data. While in stasis, any sign of a possible threat would activate a self-defense protocol that would be carried out without my say-in. I had to make sure Paws was registered as a non-hostile."

"The Roomba's his sworn enemy, so he just might be. You're just an oversized version."

The lights flickered again, blue, yellow, red. Its coloring patterns was different every time. Both decreasing and increasing in speed and rhythm. It seemed as if Nines had even decreased the strength of it as if being concerned he'd damage the dog's eyes. Paws' peculiar, muffled barks were again vocalized as he wagged, attention intently on the LED.

If anything, he thought Nines was playing with him. Gavin's features smoothed out hardly enough to be noticeable. He hadn't expected Nines, of all people - androids - to have a soft side.

The following question took him off-guard.

"Are you certain he's not a cat?"

Gavin puffed a laugh. "I've been asking that question a long time."

"I hear they take after their owners. In demand of attention, impulsive, grumpy, destroys everything around them..."

"Fuck off," he said, too tired to put any bite in it. "How long this 'stasis' thing gonna last?"

"Two hours at most for full functionality. I could wait if you want."

"I don't care. Just do it and stay outta my way."

With that, Gavin set out towards the restroom to shove that stupid jacket into the washing machine.

He returned to see Nines, eyes closed shut and head bent as much as the collar allowed him, Paws lying peacefully in his lap. He couldn't help but pay attention to the steady rhythm of his processing blue LED. The frown on his face had softened - smoothed out the crease between his brows again - leaving him looking entirely disarmed. It was an unusual look for him.

The microwave beeped finished and Gavin approached it.

Even after the lengthy exchange of dialogue that followed, Nines' previous statement had yet to sink in.

Gavin had been called attractive plenty of times by men and women alike, but to hear it from a literal computer programmed in statistics, it was different. How his body had been reacting to the tin can was a curse in itself. Apparently, he was that desperate.

He felt the urge to take another shower. Cold, this time.

Fucking android...

If Nines was sticking around, he better start paying rent.


~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 05:02 ~

Nines had been 'awake' long before he was.

His shift came at 4 p.m., so until then, they'd caught up on reports and done some research. Gavin had focused on the evaluation he was to give on Nines for the State Department. It had only been two full days, but he'd learned the hard way to start off early not to be left with piles of paperwork an hour before the deadline. When his shift came up, they headed down to speak with Leo.

Nines had again been fidgeting with the butterfly knife, and frankly, he didn't understand why he needed calibrating for a hospital visit. He seemed almost desperate to keep his hands busy somehow.

Gavin approached the android receptionist of the same kind as the one they had at the DPD.

"Your name please, sir."

"Gavin Reed."

"You're here to see your father, I assume?"

He froze.

Unable to comprehend what was said, he must've looked like a deer in headlights. His father was at the hospital? Although it sure didn't surprise him that he hadn't gotten a call, he was unable to avoid feeling guilty for it. Said receptionist didn't need to know that, though. It was certainly not the reason why he was there, but he needed to know what was going on.

"Uh..." he muttered, blinking once. "Yeah, sure."

He glanced over his shoulder to register Nines giving him a suspicious look, but only glared in return before turning back to her.

"He's in room nine. It's just down the hall."

"Right," he replied, before nearly forgetting why he was there in the first place. "We're also here to see a Leo Manfred. I hear he's getting out today."

She smiled. "That he is. Room 72."

After she gestured to the direction of the elevator, he began to move.

"Should I speak to Manfred on my own, detective?"

"What, so you can kill him?" he asked rhetorically, Nines rolling his eyes. "Fuck no. Five minutes."

It seemed as if Nines wanted to ask, but when he didn't, saying he was relieved was an understatement. His nerves were acting up and it wasn't long before he saw the room number in the distance.

Once he was just outside the door, Gavin turned to Nines. "Stay here."

"As you wish. Do hurry up, will you?"

"You know, just to spite you," he began, pressing the sides of his palms to Nines' chest "...I'll take ten extra."

Flicking up Nines' chin, the recipient looked just as unimpressed.

It was surprising he let him.

Another way to adapt, no doubt. It was obvious that Gavin liked being in control, and to some extent, Nines allowed him to be just that. The tin can was probably the prime example of a versatile.

He figured he'd just get it over with, so he didn't stall and ascended his palm to open the door lock. Gavin stepped across the threshold, door closing behind him, his gaze directed further inside and found himself paralyzed again. Bushy grey beard, short hair, worn tattoos on both arms that he got at 23 years of age. The 'white hawk' was added after Gavin's birth. His name's meaning.

His father could easily be mistaken for 40 despite being 63 now, although he did look a bit tired with the dark circles around his eyes. The surprise that dawned on his features wasn't lost in translation once he saw him.

"Gavin? Didn't expect to see you here."

Unable to decide what to do with his hands, Gavin pocketed them.

"I'm here on DPD business. Heard you were in."

"Just some problems with the heart. Cardiac arrest caused by arrhythmias," he replied, Gavin lowering his chin with a clenched jaw. "Comes with the age. Didn't want to worry you."

"That the reason you didn't call?" he asked, unable to hide the slightly hard edge to his tone.

"If I was to ever get back into your life, this wasn't the way."

"It's not that I don't fucking care, I -"

"I know, chief. You don't have to explain yourself to me," he replied. "You kept the jacket."

With that, Gavin had to tear his eyes away. Now wasn't the time to get emotional. His plastic pet was just outside and he wasn't about to be all puffy-eyed when interrogating a former red ice buyer. He was 36, for god's sake. Hadn't cried since he was maybe seven. He thought he'd put all this behind him only to be proven otherwise and that was one of the reasons why he cut all ties.

Just seeing his dad brought everything right back to him... and now part of him almost wanted to talk about it.

Coming here was a bad idea.

His father gave him a moment before pushing on. "I know you've got a lot on your plate. Always hardworking. You remind me a lot of your mother."

"Don't compare me to that bitch."

"She's your mother."

"Yeah, and a bitch. Doesn't excuse a damn thing. Blood doesn't give you the all-clear."

"I know it doesn't... but I'll never stop defending her. She was in a bad place. Besides... wasn't it for her, you wouldn't be here, and I'm grateful."

"The fuck can you be grateful for a son who doesn't call in eight years?"

"I don't blame you. She's not the only one responsible here, either. I fucked up and I'm the reason she did what she did," he replied, and Gavin couldn't deny it. Still didn't change that his mother's actions kick-started a lifetime of misery. "Now, enough about that. Doesn't help to wallow in old memories and I know talking about this is upsetting you. You said you were here on DPD business?"

Gavin nodded, grateful to the change of topic.

"Can't say too much, but we're visiting a former red ice buyer. Turns out that a lot of the recent homicides by androids all have red ice in common, and with luck, he'll help us locate a dealer."

"Us? Thought you worked alone."

"DPD assigned me a toaster to aid with the investigation," he replied, tilting his head towards the window where Nines stood with his back turned.

"I heard about that on the news. So you're the first to work with one, huh?"

"Hank was. I got my own two days ago."

"Can't imagine you being too happy about that."

"No shit."

He'd already gotten used to having Nines around. Frankly, it felt strange not having him looking over his shoulder at all times. Almost made him feel vulnerable knowing there was no one there to have his back. In any case, his father wasn't a threat. He never had been. There was a time he took to red ice in 2022, but Gavin had already moved out four years prior, so he wasn't the one that got his anger. It was his coworkers being how he lost numerous jobs.

"Good to know he's keeping an eye on you for me."

Gavin let out a scoff. "Hank? Fuck no. Booze head bailed on me three years ago. I couldn't care less 'bout him."

"He did lose his son, Gavin."

...and I lost someone who was like a little brother to me. Lost another father figure in the process. I had to deal with the grief alone.

"That's his problem, not mine."

His father took the hint. "You should get back to it," he said, Gavin nodding in agreement. The mood was dropping and he needed to get out. "I'm glad you stopped by."

"If something happens, just... fucking call me next time."

He saluted and smiled weakly. "You got it, chief. Stay safe out there. Don't do anything your old man wouldn't do."

Frankly, that gave him a wide berth.

Gavin backed a few steps before turning to the door, and once it slid open, he stepped outside to take a deep breath.

In some sense, he needed that. His father was the only family he had left. Even so, he stood by his decision of shutting him out, as he was far from innocent. Gavin had good reason to dislike both his parents and he was convinced he was better off without them. That didn't change that part of him still cared. Naïve, really. He should've just stayed away and yet part of him felt like he didn't know the full story. Considering he was merely four years old when everything went to shit, he'd been far too young to understand it at the time.

His father had stuck to the same story and thus he had no reason to believe otherwise.

Nines turned to him, giving him an expectant look of 'should we proceed?' He'd learned to recognize some of his mannerisms at this point.

"Leo's on the second floor," Gavin said, all back to business.

After the short elevator ride - being pressed up just a tad bit too close to Nines for his comfort when said elevator nearly filled - he couldn't help but feel slightly claustrophobic at the lack of room for his arms that he chose to keep crossed. Tough luck. It wasn't long before they found themselves entering Leo's room. He was standing by the window and quickly took note of them. A puzzled expression appeared on his face as he gave them the side-eye, his gaze wary darting to Nines before landing on Gavin.

Gavin took the word. "Leo Manfred?" he asked, taking it as a 'yes' when he didn't respond. "We're from the DPD and wanna ask you some questions."

"Is this... about what happened with that android a few days ago?"

"Case is closed, but it's come to our attention that you were involved with red ice."

Leo's eyes went wide. "I'm starting rehab, like, today."

"Yeah, we know. You're not in any trouble," he replied, Leo visibly relaxing at that. "Since you're a former red ice buyer and know how the operation works, we could use your help. Did you by any chance keep your burner phone?"

"Uh, no. Sorry. I chucked that thing out the moment I was done with it."

"You had to have picked the package up somewhere. Remember any details about your dealer or drop spot? Appearance? Voice? Anything helps."

"Sure... I mean, I had a couple, but yeah. They're usually these middle-aged guys down on their luck. There was this one guy, six feet. I think he had brown eyes? Dark-haired. He lived in this huge ass mansion. I mean, I guess he didn't actually live there, as that would've been seriously weird... but it was where he made deals. Place was fucking filled with androids. I think he was trading them or some shit."

"Zlatko Andronikov," Gavin said, giving Nines a look before moving his attention back to Leo. "I guess you haven't seen the recent news being holed up here, but guy was the victim of a homicide."

"Shit. That's good, right? Not that I, like... endorse manslaughter or whatever."

He was obviously suffering some withdrawal effects.

"Remember anyone else?"

Leo took a moment to think about it.

"Yeah, there's one. Also six feet, dark hair, blue eyes, probably weighed around 200 lbs. Had the crazy eye. He freaked me the fuck out, man. Guy had this regular drop-off spot that I went to three times. North Corktown. I guess he lived nearby as I never saw a car or anything."

"Could be Todd Williams. 4203 Harrison Street. He's the owner of an AX400 that he recently reported missing," Nines said.

"I did meet with one of the tin cans at the same spot. That was weeks ago, though."

Nines flipped up a hologram of Kara. "Did she look like this?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Well, it's a start," Gavin said, releasing his arms. "Thanks for the information."

"No problem, man. Run those guys outta business."

He was determined to.


~ NOV 11TH, 2038 * PM 05:58 ~

Clouds were forming in the sky and it was only a matter of minutes before it would be snowing.

Ringing the doorbell of 4203 Harrison Street, they had to stand in the hideous neighborhood for a couple minutes before coming to the conclusion that Todd Williams wasn't home.

The area was one of the less attractive features of Detroit and a distasteful reminder of how he'd end up if he didn't have a steady job. Construction was still ongoing. Trimming fingers on his bicep, Gavin started getting impatient. He didn't want to stay there any longer than necessary. They had good reason to think Todd was involved, so even without the need for a warrant, they were allowed to search the home.

"Nines," he said, the door open near immediately. It didn't look any better inside and Gavin grimaced. "Jesus, who lives like this?"

As far as the eyes could see, the place was a mess. Cardboard boxes for various foods with leftovers, half-empty beer bottles, and unwashed dishes was only the tip of the iceberg. Dust had settled specifically in the windows, and ironically, atop of the Roomba tucked neatly in one of the corners. Without his android, this Todd character sure didn't seem to be bothered to at least keep the place clean. Gavin couldn't say he was surprised. Todd had been on a decline ever since his wife left, and to some extent, he nearly pitied the man.

Gavin knew exactly how being in a household without a mother was like. Yet, he couldn't imagine how it was like losing a child and being denied the privilege of ever seeing it again just like that.

Red ice could make people do some fucked up stuff. Todd was far from innocent, though.

A detail worthy of mention was how it appeared as if there had been a fight downstairs - possibly from when the AX400 escaped - and Todd hadn't cared enough to even turn the furniture back to their correct position. When interviewed on the matter of losing his AX400, he'd claimed to have been attacked unprovoked. Gavin knew now that it was impossible. At least by following what Nines had earlier told him. Nines could also have been bullshitting him entirely, he knew that, but his gut told him what he said was legit.

/ "Humans aren't as special as we'd like to think we are, detective," / Carl Manfred's words still echoed in his mind. After everything he'd witnessed so far, there was this nagging sense of doubt in the back of his mind.

An interesting detail was that Todd had also purchased a YK500 unit that he never mentioned to the interviewer. By the looks of things, the AX400 had taken the YK500 with her. Just the thought of someone harming one of the child units was despicable. The realistic appearance of said units was enough to leave him uncomfortable. He'd heard the damn things had even been programmed to cry for some fucked up reason and thus supposed that parents who purchased one wanted it to be as realistic as possible in every way.

The only logical reason he could come up with for a crying feature was if said parents wanted to prepare for a real child. People that bought a YK500 unit temporarily until they felt ready to care for a human and read the unit's signals of do's and don'ts.

In Todd's case, it was obvious that he was attempting to replace his daughter.

"Well, he certainly hasn't left his addictions."

Turning to face Nines, he watched him rustle a small plastic bag containing the drug.

Gavin averted his eyes. "Figures... and there are obvious signs of a struggle. Doesn't look like he was entirely honest."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I knew something was up with the guy the moment I saw the interview. Guy was twitching too much. I even asked Fowler to investigate him, but Hank and his plastic pet were already assigned to all android-related cases," he replied, pushing aside one of the bills at a cupboard only to find several beneath. "Wasn't too keen on investigating these tin cans, but I knew Williams had a kid after looking him up. If he was a red ice addict, my first instinct was to get her outta the household before he snapped. Fowler didn't care. Probably knew the kid was an android."

"Seems you're familiar with the drug's effect."

"I'm a detective, dipshit. If I was a recovering addict I never would've been allowed in the force," he said, getting defensive "...but yeah, I'm familiar with it. My old man started ingesting it daily when I was twenty. Lost his job at the DPD for it."

Nines took a moment before responding. "I'm aware of how strict the DPD recruitment is. I didn't insinuate you were a user."

He wasn't convinced.

"Sure you didn't."

Gavin might be short-tempered, but he wasn't one to use such substances. He certainly liked to drink, although not to get drunk, as he despised the effect alcohol had on him. It left him vulnerable. It had him lose control of both his movements and cognitive functions, and for someone who always wanted to be in said control, he wasn't having it. The only bad habits he'd picked up on was sex and smoking for temporary stress relief. One could argue coffee was another.

Aside from the drug stashed away that Nines had located, there was little to be seen downstairs, but more evidence was present on the second floor. He found a gun tucked in Todd's nightstand and a box of anti-depressants right next to it. They eventually investigated the kid's room. Alice. At first, it didn't look like much, but the box with an inserted key told him more than enough.

Opening it, Gavin frowned.

He took the child's drawings in hand and shuffled through them to see depictions of domestic abuse. First the YK500, then the AX400, the whole situation leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

"Fucking hell, this guy needs to be put behind bars and stay there," Gavin muttered.

"Androids don't feel pain."

"Doesn't change that you need to be really fucked up to hit something that resembles a kid to the fucking T," he replied, taking note of something else that he'd overlooked earlier. "Hang on... why the fuck did she draw herself with red blood? She's an android, right?"

"YK500 units were designed to be as similar as possible to real children - act like real children - enough for the distinction to be impossible to see. Some parents render themselves deluded enough to believe the android is a real child. If her parents ever found her drawings, blue blood would've taken away from the experience. It could also symbolize a red LED or its removal judging by the location. Another thing worthy of note is the duplicate artwork on the wall and door. Perfect copies."

"I saw 'em. No way a human could've done that unless digitalized. Android probably replicated the kid's work."

"That does appear to be the case."

The last evidence they found was a note mentioning that Todd was to deliver a package in less than an hour.

They had to be there.


A/N: Gavin's father is totally a DILF considering how hot his son is... don't 'at-sign' me. I'm slowly introducing my take on Gavin's backstory (leaving hints so you can have fun with theories,) but there'll be a conclusion dotting absolutely everything down - in detail - later in the story. Kind of a summary in Gavin's own words.

Also... omg they were roommates.