Disclaimer: I do not own Detroit: Become Human. This story contains violence, abuse, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

DATE: - -, -

TIME: 4:16:01 P.M.

"You're telling me in all your sixteen years on this earth, you never even heard of this masterpiece?" Leo asked him with an astonished look, holding a disk between his fingers.

"I don't play video games." Gabriel shrugged, sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor while Leo looked down at him from atop his bed. "My parents never allowed it."

"Well, lucky for you, Gabes, this isn't your parents' house," Leo said with a smug grin, hopping off the bed and going to his television. "You won't get into trouble or anything if you play, right?"

"Only if I don't tell."

"Good, 'cause your mom scares the shit out of me."

"Yeah, I'm told that a lot." Gabriel's eyes latched onto the television screen as the game started up. After the introductory credits rolled, heavy pounding rock music thumped over a smooth animation of a long-haired man masterfully playing an electric bass as he climbed a rocky mountain. "Guitar Rocker Three: Legends of Metal?" He read the title as it pulsed in bold font across the screen.

"Best music game ever made. You'll love it."

"How do you play?"

"It's simple," Leo rummaged through a chest beside the TV and pulled out what looked like two toys mimicking basses. Multicolored buttons replaced the strings, and a flicker was on the body. "When you play a song, you just press the buttons that show up on the screen. You play the cello. It should be a piece of cake for you." He handed Gabriel the fire-red bass.

"Bass isn't the same as a cello." Gabriel ran his prosthetic hand over the buttons, his ivory articulated fingers tapping on the colored plastic. "But I can work with this."

"That's the spirit! We'll do an easy level first. What song do you want to do, Easy Lovin' or Work For It?"

"Uh, whichever you want."

"Hm, you're the Easy Lovin' type of guy." Gabriel stood up beside Leo, adjusting his grip on the bass. "You ready to rock on?"

"Yeah?"

"Then let's rock!" Gabriel hardly listened to any metal or hard rock music, but he still found himself bopping his head to the beat as he rhythmically tapped the bass buttons. The game was easy overall; he could move his prosthetic fingers quickly enough to keep up with the prompts. Unfortunately, they finished the song quicker than he would have liked.

"See, you're a natural," Leo said.

"Thank you. I liked it more than I thought I would. Is there another song we could do? One that's more difficult."

"Getting cocky? I like that. I've got the perfect song to be your remedy." He changed it to a song titled 'Damage Control.' "Get ready for your fingers to burn." The song started, and Gabriel instantly felt the heavy thump of the beat rumble in his chest. This song was undoubtedly much more difficult but also much more fun from the thrill of racing his fingers to meet the button prompts. The simulated crowd on the screen was more lively than any of the crowds he performed for ever were. They gave him the same accomplished feeling at their roar of applause as he and Leo finished the last note with a flourish.

"New high score? Hell yeah!" Leo laughed and held up his hand for a high-five, to which Gabriel obliged, laughing, the sound of flesh meeting synthetic skin with a smack.

"Well done, you two." Gabriel knew Eli spoke before turning around and seeing his brother standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Thanks, Eli."

"Oh, hey," Leo chuckled, rubbing his neck, "Um, how long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to see you got a new high score," Eli answered but glanced down at his watch.

"We have to leave already?" Gabriel sighed.

"I'm afraid so. Get your things together and meet me at the door."

"Okay, I'll be there in a sec." he turned back to Leo. "I really enjoyed today."

"Me too. I needed a break from algebra and physics. Do you know when you'll come over again?"

"With my schedule, I don't know, sorry, but I hope it's soon."

DATE: December 14, 2038

TIME: 2:22:05 P.M.

'Baker's Bar & Grill' read the flashy neon yellow sign above the small bar in the shadow of the tall buildings it was shoved between.

"This is the place?" Connor asked, examining the bar and its dingy surroundings.

"Yep," Gavin answered. "Not the prettiest place, but the drinks here are sure damn good."

"I believe 'sketchy' would be an appropriate description for this establishment."

"That's pretty accurate with all the shit I've seen here. But the people here know me, so we shouldn't have much trouble… Hopefully. Just let me do the talking, got it?"

"Got it."

A distorted bell rang as he opened the rickety entry door. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and greasy oil was a familiar scent that was nearly comforting, with the only sound coming from the television. The ripped blue booths and scratched tables showed the history of fights that had erupted with the bar itself, a slab of glossy grey marble, being the most well-kept part of the place. A few customers were huddled up in the booths coddling drinks, and one was seated at the bar with her own glass. The bartender looked up from behind the bar as Gavin and Connor entered.

"Good to see you, Reed. You're a bit early today, aren't ya?" the bartender's smile flattened. "I didn't know you got an android."

"I don't, Driver." Gavin scoffed. "It's not even legal to own androids anymore. There was the whole android liberation that happened like a month ago, remember?"

"Oh, right," Driver chuckled, his black eyes looking at Connor. "So, what's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name is Connor. I'm Detective Reed's partner."

"Partner?" the bartender laughed.

"Work partner." Gavin promptly cleared up. "We're here for business." Driver's eyes narrowed.

"What kind of business are we talking about here, Reed?"

"Nothing too serious. Some shady shit went down the other day, and we're trying to find out who all was involved. Is Donny here?"

"Hm, I'm not sure."

"Driver, look," Gavin leaned in, resting his elbows on the cool bar, "If you didn't do the damn crime, you're not gonna get busted for it. I'm not here for any petty shit, but I can be petty if you decide to be difficult."

"You serious?"

"I can show you if you don't believe me."

"Fuckin' fine," he sighed, "I can see if Donny's here." The bartender walked into the back of the bar with a roll of his eyes.

"That went well enough," Connor remarked.

"For now," Gavin said, "Donny isn't on anyone's favorite person list."

"… I've noticed something, Detective," the android spoke with a much quieter voice, stepping closer. "There are traces of thirium on the floor leading to the bathroom. I'll look into it."

"Alright, but try not to piss anyone off while doing it."

"Noted." Connor walked off to follow the invisible trail, leaving Gavin alone at the bar. Well, not entirely alone.

"You come here often?" The woman at the bar asked, wearing a dark violet dress and black leather jacket with her long ebony hair obscuring her face. She sounded familiar, and he couldn't help but give her an incredulous stare.

"You could say that." He mumbled, noticing how she hadn't taken a drink of her water in a while. "You seem new here. How'd you find out about this place?"

"Let's just say," she looked over to face him, and seeing her crystal blue eyes, Gavin could put a name to her face. "I found an interesting business card," Chloe said, tapping her painted nail on her glass. It was a breath of fresh air to see her face perfectly intact without so much as a scratch. Her LED was nowhere to be seen, and her shadowed eyes fluttered, "Why don't you come over here and tell me how you ended up in a place like this?" She flirtatiously egged him over, though the twist of her red lips hinted at her slight disgust at doing so.

"Don't mind if I do," he slid in close to her and whispered in a hushed voice near her ear: "Is everything going alright?"

"At the moment, yes," she replied with the same quiet tone. "How is Mr. Elijah?"

"Well, he hasn't keeled over, but he keeps having to fix his stitches. How many does he have?"

"Too many. Listen when the manager comes out, ask him about William Brookes. That'll be who you need to track down."

"Was he involved?"

"In a way. Be careful. They'll send their maggots after you once they realize you're a threat." She gripped her glass tighter. "I'll do what I can to squash them before that happens. I wish you the best."

"Good luck to you too." She got up from her seat and teased her hand on his shoulder.

"I'll see you later, detective," her voice returned to the sultry tone as she said her goodbye and left the bar. Connor returned to his side before Donny came out of the back rooms, rubbing his nose and clearing his throat as he came to greet the detectives.

"Hey, how the hell are you doing, Reed?" His gravelly voice asked, side-eyeing Connor.

"Not so shitty. Your bar looks the same way."

"I did hire a new guy that does the dirty work. So what can I help you, fine gentlemen, with today?"

"Just answering a couple of questions would be fantastic. Three days ago, who all was working here?"

"Three days? That's a really long time ago."

"Well, you've got plenty of time to think about it."

"Right," Donny mumbled in annoyance, "Jackie, Moss, Barton, and Nev all showed up."

"Was there anyone who didn't?"

"Hm," the bar owner tapped his chin, "Linda and Sandy."

"That's all?" Gavin raised a brow, and Donny smirked.

"Ain't nobody else."

"Huh, that's weird 'cause Willy told me he works on Sundays? Did he slip your mind?" Donny's smile vanished.

"Willy?— Yeah, he just slipped this old mind of mine. He sometimes skips Sunday shifts."

"Really, what does he do when he bails?"

"Ain't got a clue. I don't snoop in my employees' personal business."

"Then we can just ask the man himself. You got any of his information?"

"Reed," the bar owner groaned, irritated, "Are you fucking with me right now? I let you get away with bringing a damn android into my bar, but now you're trying to get on to one of my—"

"Don't give yourself a heart attack, Donny," Gavin interrupted the other man's angered rant. "I'm not trying to fuck with your bar. You know, I like it here. But you know whose job is on the line? Mine, if I don't figure this fucking case out. I won't be your loyal customer if I go broke since you got me fired with your bullshit. So, hand over whatever you got, and me and the tin can will leave. Can you do that, Donny?"

"Alright, alright, Reed, damn," the owner relented, taking the pen from his shirt and writing on a napkin. "Here, that's all I got." He handed over the napkin to Gavin. "The next time I see you here, Reed, you better pay for somethin'."

"Yeah, yeah, have a nice day." He turned to Connor, "Let's get outta here." The android followed him out of the bar and into the car. "Did you find anything back there?" He asked as he started up the car.

"Yes," Connor answered, "I found a backpack underneath a loose floor tile in the bathroom. It contained materials that are used to produce Red Ice."

"Why am I not surprised?" Gavin chuckled.

"Also, the bag had the initials W.B. written inside it."

"Looks like William Brookes is the man whose ass we need to get onto."

"We should proceed with caution," Connor warned, "He has a history of assault and drug use."

"Most of the people I deal with have one or the other. It's par for the course."

"Is that one of the pleasures you get from this occupation? The thrill of danger?"

"Yeah, there's that rush you get in the heat of a fight, like someone lit a firecracker in your chest, ya know?"

"… Yes, I do know." Gavin had said that last part as more of a rhetorical question, not expecting Connor to answer, let alone relate to him. "I believe I've felt similar stimulations on my missions. Chasing down suspects as fast as my legs could take me and taking them on in confrontations gives me such strong sensations, they make me feel so… Alive?" he asked more than said, but a small smile had wormed onto his face regardless. That smile promptly vanished as his LED flashed yellow. "Oh."

"What is it?" Gavin prodded.

"I just received a message from Hank. 'Don't bust your heart regulator, but everything's gone to shit over here. Get your ass over here.'"

TIME: 2:07:03 P.M.

Hank didn't need to be told that the gated neighborhood he was driving up to was as prestigious as it could get. From the electric ivory gates that Kamski had to put in the code for and to the multi-story houses with grassy green yards, told him enough that those that lived here spared no expense.

"Where exactly am I driving to?" Hank asked.

"Down the next street. It'll be the house on the end." Kamski answered. Turning on said street, Hank saw multiple cars parked on the curb with the back gate of the two-story house at the end of the street wide open. "Or the house where the festivities are," Kamski observed.

"Let's go crash ourselves a party then." Hank parked in one of the few open spots, and the pair made their way to the house. As he walked through the gates, Hank heard friends' chatter and the children's giggles and smelled the savory scent of barbecue. There looked to be a cookout happening in the luxurious backyard with premium grills, a home bar, and a massive pool.

"You see Price anywhere?" Hank asked.

"Not yet."

"Great," the Lieutenant grumbled, knowing they'd have to search through the crowd. The pair of them looked out of place against the finely dressed partygoers, who gave the Lieutenant upturned looks, and Kamski surprised stares. It was only a matter of time before someone addressed the elephant in the room.

"Can I help you?" A male android stood in their path, his arms crossed over his chest and LED flicking yellow. "You seem lost."

"Lost? No, we're looking for Michael Price." The android raised a blonde brow.

"I don't believe he invited you."

"We weren't," Hank pulled out his badge, "Lieutenant Anderson, I'm here for an investigation, and Mr. Price is the man I need to see."

"He's not—"

"Pardon me, gentlemen," a female android cut in, sending a child off to play as she approached them. "Hello, pleasant guests. My name's Cass. I hear you two would like to speak with Mr. Michael."

"Correct," Kamski spoke up, holding onto his side, "However, I'd like to use your restroom beforehand."

"Certainly. Kyle, would you please show our guest the way?"

"… Sure, follow me, sir." Kyle led Kamski toward the house, and Cass led the Lieutenant toward the pool.

"Sorry about getting to you so late, Lieutenant," she apologized. "Kyle and I are the only helpers left here."

"No problem," Hank said, "How do you know Mr. Price?"

"Oh, I was one of the neighborhood babysitters, but I always felt more drawn to the Prices than anyone else. They definitely need an extra set of hands. The pay is just a bonus." By the poolside, laying back in a lavish chair with a sun umbrella above to drape him in the shade, was a man with greying brown hair and dark shades. He wasn't dressed like he was going to the pool, more like going out to golf, which made sense as only maniacs would go swimming in winter. "Michael, you have a special guest." She said to the man.

"I'm not in the mood to talk to that lousy tick." He groaned.

"It's not him. Lieutenant Anderson would like to speak with you."

"Lieutenant?" Price sat up in the chair. "Did something happen?"

"Something I'd like to talk to you about," Hank said.

"And, of course, it's today," Price pinched his nose with a sigh. "Cass, please pull a chair up for the Lieutenant and ask Kyle to bring me a drink."

"I'm on it." She brought up a lawn chair before walking off to complete her other task.

"So, whatcha partying for?" Hank asked as he sat down.

"You didn't come here to ask about my get together. So what do you really want to ask me?"

"Fine, I'll get to the point then. When's the last time you went to rehab?"

"How'd—"

"Your doctor says you've been missing plenty of your sessions."

"Because I'm not on it anymore." There was restraint in the man's tone. "I haven't been for a long time."

"Alright then, what have you been up to now that you're sober?"

"I—"

"Papa!" A childish squeal cut him off as a young boy ran up to Price, toy car in hand. "Mindy and me finished with the race track. Come see!"

"I can't right now, Bobby. Go show your dad."

"But he told me to show you. Please, it'll be quick." The boy tugged on Price's sleeve. The sight was so familiar to Hank, but he pushed back any memories that tried floating back up to the surface of his mind.

"You can show me, Bobby." Cass joined in once again, taking the boy's hand with a gentle smile and letting him lead them away.

"Grandkids," Price scoffed with a smirk, "I was saying that I'm retired, so I don't do much of anything."

"So, is that what you would say you did Sunday night?"

"Sunday? Yeah, I was at home with my family."

"Then, if I ask your family now, they'd say the same thing, right?"

"Did I say 'family'? I meant my friends. If you talk to them, they'd back me up. And before you ask, no, we weren't doing any drugs. I wouldn't bring that into my house with my grandkids." Price's scowl became more prominent, "I have something to ask you, in fact. How the hell did you get in here, so you could come and ruin my day? Did you break in?" Hank could have easily said anything other than the truth, but he wanted to test something.

"Naw, I didn't need to when Kamski had the code for the gate." How quickly the man's scowl fell to silent shock once the name left the Lieutenant's mouth.

"There's a Kamski here?" he slowly asked his voice tense.

"Yep, the great Elijah Kamski is in your bathroom right now, actually. So you can talk to him if you don't feel like talkin' to me." Price took a shaky breath, running a hand down his face before leaning in closer.

"What do you want from me, sir?"

"The truth."

"… Fine, maybe we had one ice cube or two, but there was nothing else. We even paid Cleve on time." It was almost scary how quickly he confessed.

"That's all?"

"Yes, I swear, sir. I didn't wrong anybody in any way, but if I did, I apologize. I'll do whatever I can to make it up to Mr. Kamski."

"… How well do you know Elijah Kamski?"

"Well enough not to piss him off, sir."

"Why is that?"

"Because…" Price trailed off, realization slowly coming to his face. "Oh shit. Listen," He took off his shades, and Hank contained his gasp of surprise at seeing Price's pale and scarred eyes that reminded Hank of burn victims he'd encountered. Price ignored Kyle as he came over with an ice bin with glasses and wine resting in the chunks of ice and continued speaking lowly under the sound of chipping ice. "You seem like a nice guy, and I don't want… I don't think I can help you with whatever is going on, but I'll give you some advice. Don't—"

Hank had seen Kyle in his periphery preparing the drinks, but the android never got to pouring the drinks or even opening the bottles. It was confusing to Hank's brain that the android would turn his attention away from his unfinished drinks to Price.

His brain registered pretty quickly, however, that it was Price's warm blood that he felt spurt across his face when Kyle yanked Price's head back by the hair and drove the ice pick deep into his neck.

Hank was the only one that witnessed the sudden brutality until Price cried out at the second stab and the third. Then the people around them screamed, then cookers at the grill, then the children playing by the pool. Finally, Hank snapped out of stunned shock, shooting up from the chair and whipping out his revolver. He would've shot right there if crying children weren't his backstop.

"Let him fucking go!" He commanded with a fierce shout. The android looked at him and obeyed, letting Price fall to the ground. It was only for a second that Hank looked down at the man bleeding out to see if he had a chance. The ice pick was already digging into his chest when he looked back up.

"Fuck!" He cursed as the piercing stab shot through his chest, but he grabbed the android's arm to keep the pick from going further. Unfortunately, his gun slipped from his hands and was promptly kicked into the pool by the android. He tried to gain control of the android's arms with both hands, but the struggle led him to be jabbed in the shoulders by strikes aimed at his vulnerable neck. Hank had the perfect front-row view of the android's face that was contorted into an expression of a devil's delight as he fought for his life. The blue eyes bored into his own as the LED spun a vibrant yellow.

"Kyle, what are you doing?!" Cass'sshriek of horror cut through the air as she ran over to Price's twitching side. "Why?!"

"Get outta here!" Hank yelled back, nearly losing his footing on the slick poolside. A well-placed kick to the shin made certain he'd trip over, smacking hard onto the concrete. He was dazed, but not dazed enough to not stop the strike that came from overhead.

"Stop that," Kyle spoke like he was scolding a child getting on his nerves. Then, knowing he couldn't hold back the android's arm forever, Hank took a chance and jabbed at the android's eyes. He knew it wouldn't hurt his attacker, but the android still flinched back, allowing Hank to twist the pick out of Kyle's grasp and beat him to the ground. Finally, Hank gained control, pinning the android beneath him. Somebody had to have called the police by now.

"Don't you fucking try anything," he hissed through his teeth. Kyle just chuckled, blue blood dripping from his busted lip. The headbutt that followed had stars shooting through Hank's vision, and the knee to the gut sent him back to the ground, knocking the air out of him. He breathed and swallowed a lung full of water as the android shoved his head down into the pool. Hank thrashed violently, able to come up for one breath before his head was shoved back under, the android putting his total weight onto his back. Hank saw his revolver resting on one of the underwater pool steps through the chlorine stinging his eyes, but it was impossible to reach being held down.

In recent years he had imagined how his death would have gone. At home, sitting at his kitchen table with a revolver clutched in his cold grasp and a bleeding bullet hole to the side of his head. The thought of death was almost a comforting idea that eased away all the pain and sorrow alcohol couldn't fix. But now, with cold water stealing any air his burning lungs yearned for, death was the most horrifying thing in the world. He couldn't leave now. Not when—

The moment he felt the weight lifted off him, he shot up to the surface, gasping for air. He rolled over onto the poolside, coughing violently before he heaved, ridding himself of the water he had swallowed. Though his head wobbled, and his vision was unfocused through the water dripping from his silver hair, he could still see the image of Kamski stomping the android's head into the ground. The android still had enough sense left intact to roll out of Kamski's way and shakily get to its feet, grabbing a skewer left behind in the panic.

"Can't thay put," the few intact ligaments in his face awkwardly moved his mouth as he tightened his grip on the skewer. Despite nearly drowning, Hank took a stinging breath and reached back into the pool, grabbing his revolver. Coming back up, he didn't have time to think whether it still worked when Kyle was lunging at Kamski with the skewer poised to strike.

Out of the three times he pulled the trigger, only one bullet was fired that caught the android right in his abdomen. Kyle faltered, stumbling backward and dropping the skewer to the ground as he stared at the hemorrhaging wound that stained his white shirt blue. Slowly he picked his head up, a disappointed look on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. The disappointed expression disappeared as his LED burned a piercing red with… surprise.

"Wha—" Kyle collapsed to his knees, his draining blue blood taking away his strength and life. "What's ha…" His LED went dark.

"You're still alive, Lieutenant?" Kamski asked surprisingly calm, coming over to the downed Lieutenant and crouching by his side.

"Just about." Hank breathily answered, crashing from his adrenaline rush. "What about Price?" Kamski shook his head. A single thought went through his head as he noticed the wail of the police sirens in the distance and the fact Kamski wasn't wearing his sling. What the fuck was he dealing with?

TIME: 2:56:02 P.M.

Gavin saw the police cars before anything else as they lined the street, flashing a hazardous red and blue. He had to keep calm this time. Anderson had texted Connor that he and Eli were both fine, though he knew that he and the Lieutenant had different definitions of the word fine. He parked and hopped out of the car with Connor close behind, looking through the crowd of officers and neighbors giving statements.

"They're over there." Connor pointed out, gesturing to the ambulance. They found Anderson leaning up against the side of the ambulance with a towel draped over his shoulders, and Eli stood beside him, having no new injuries as far as Gavin could tell.

"Hank," Connor rushed to the Lieutenant's side, LED spinning a worrisome yellow. "Are you alright? What happened? How—"

"Woah, take it easy, kid. I'm still alive." Anderson reassured the android, patting his shoulder.

"The same can't be said for Mr. Price, I'm afraid," Kamski said.

"Somebody died?" Gavin asked, taken aback by the news.

"I told you everything went to shit," Hank said.

"What happened?" Connor prodded.

"See, there was this party in the Price's backyard. When I was talking to Price while Kamski was screwing off in the bathroom, one of the androids there, Kyle, attacked the poor bastard. Then he tried to kill me, but Kamski barged in before he could drown me in the goddamn pool. I shot the android after that. I don't know if he's salvageable."

"I see," Connor gradually processed the information. "Could he have attacked like how a newly deviated android would?"

"No, that android was already deviant. I could tell from his attitude. But he didn't give any damn signs that he would fucking shank the party host."

"It could have been a mental break?" Gavin suggested.

"I doubt it," Anderson shook his head. "He wasn't like those maniacs that swing wildly. He knew what he was doing when he kept trying to stab my neck. That fucker wanted me dead."

"In your line of work, I'm sure many people do," Eli spoke up, and Gavin noticed how he put pressure on his side. "The question of 'why?' isn't of importance when the perpetrator is dead. What we need to focus on—"

"We?" Hank's laugh cut him off. "No, you need to focus on keeping yourself out of danger. Let the detectives handle this." Eli hmphed.

"May I remind you that if I wasn't with you today, you'd be joining Price's side in a body bag."

"You would have been fucking dead too if I hadn't shot that android. Look, if I die, who gives a shit? But if you get murdered, it'll give people reasons to act stupid. You can only visit the department to help, but that's it."

"Fine," Eli clicked his tongue, "But at least let me ask you, what was the last thing Mr. Price said to you?"

"… He told me where I should go next. Is there a cab you could call to pick you up?"

"I can just take him home," Gavin offered, "I don't think a self-driving cab is the best thing when technology's been a bit less friendly."

"If your car is like how you dress, I'd prefer the cab."

"Too fucking bad, princess," The detective shot Eli a glare. "You're stuck with me. My car's the grey one with the dent on the side."

"Reed, hold on a second," Anderson said before he headed off.

"What do you need?" Gavin stayed back as Eli went off to the car. Anderson glanced around before stepping closer to the other detectives.

"Do you guys have any leads?"

"We plan to interrogate William Brookes," Connor answered. "There's reasonable evidence that he was doing a suspicious activity the night of Mr. Kamski's attack."

"Alright, you too, keep on that. If we want to go any further, I'm gonna take a couple steps back."

"What do you mean by that?" Gavin asked.

"I'm going to talk to Kamski's androids. We're missing something here."

"Like what?"

"That's what I plan to find out."

"Well, good luck with that, Anderson."

"One more thing, Reed," Anderson grabbed his arm before he could leave, "If Kamski says anything out of the ordinary, tell me."

"Yeah, yeah, if Mr. Pretentious starts talking all cryptic again, I'll let you know." He yanked his arm away. "You just make sure you don't get your old ass almost killed. Again." As he walked off, he caught the start of Connor and Anderson's conversation.

"I believe you should rest first before taking any action. Your body needs time to recover."

"That won't be an issue with the shit ton of paperwork I have to do."

Gavin waited until he and Eli were in the car and driving out of the neighborhood to start his questioning.

"They're killing, already?"

"They're desperate," Eli said simply, taking off his sling. "They already had Price on their list and tried to kill two birds with one stone."

"So, they want to kill Hank now?"

"Not necessarily. This is just Father's way of trying to 'persuade' me to return in the most egregious way possible… But I'm starting to think that's the safer option."

"No, fucking way you're going back. We can do this."

"Even at the cost of your friends' lives?" Gavin gripped the steering wheel tighter as a painful sting burned his chest.

"No! 'Cause, they won't die. No one else will. We'll finish this shit before anything else happens."

"You're shaking." Eli pointed out. He hadn't noticed that his hands were twitching, and his shoulders flinched with every breath. "You must get your medication in order if you want to continue this."

"I can pop a damn Xanax right now if you like," Gavin snapped back.

"We can pull over if need be. I don't want you to have a panic attack while driving."

"I'm fucking fine. I hadn't had one of those in years. But, anyway, this isn't about me. We've got bigger issues."

"… Do you have any low-profile places you like to wind down?" Eli asked.

"Like relax?… Yeah, I can think of one."

"Good, we'll go there. We shouldn't risk going to your apartment just yet, and I need time to think about what exactly attacked today."

TIME: 5:02:07 P.M.

"… This looks like a questionable restaurant," Eli commented as he looked over the building.

"Heh, that's what Connor said when he saw it, too," Gavin said. "It's rough around the edges, but it'll grow on you."

"Like a tumor."

"Just give it a chance." Gavin opened the door for Eli, and the inside of the bar was more packed than it had been earlier with different bartenders. They still shot him a smile or a wave before returning to service the relatively lowly customers. "I come here so often that most of the staff know me. I even sit in the same—" he stopped midsentence when seeing that the booth he always sat at was already occupied by a buff man and an older woman. "Never mind."

"There's a spot open at the bar," Eli said, having no qualms about taking his seat. Gavin shuffled over but only looked down at the bar stool once he got to it. He pushed it slightly to the side and leaned against the bar. "You can't sit?" Eli asked.

"I can… I just don't want to."

"Have you ever tried sitting here?"

"Can we get our order taken over here," Gavin asked loudly to get one of the bartenders' attention.

"Hold on a sec, Reed," a bartender said before opening the back door and shouting: "Hey, beanie boy, get your ass out here and cover these customers!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" a male voice shouted back, a voice that sounded awfully familiar. A young man walked out of the back rooms, a pen was attached to his maroon beanie, and his nametag was clipped loosely onto his black apron, though that wasn't needed for him to recognize Leo.

"Oh, shit," Leo sounded stunned as astonishment flashed in his brown eyes. "That wasn't a dream," he walked up to the bar, slowly growing a grin. "You're actually here, Elijah." He chuckled joyfully to himself.

"In the flesh," Eli said. "It's nice to see you so well."

"I-It's good to see you too! You know, I was thinkin' that me bumping into you the other day was just my crazy brain screwing with me. But you're… Really here. And you don't look too good."

"Oh, I simply got caught up in a fight. Nothing to trouble yourself with. I see you've gotten yourself a job. Even if it's at a place like this."

"Yeah, this was the only place that'd hire someone with a record of… borrowing things without asking." He chuckled nervously. "But I don't do shit like that anymore! I've turned a new leaf, a-and got myself cleaned up in rehab. So you won't see me with a pipe ever again. I promise."

"That's a promise I hope you keep."

"Me too. I've wanted to say I'm sorry for… Ya know, being such a piece of shit."

"It's alright, Leo. I'm not upset… Anymore."

"Right, right. So, uh, is there any I can get you and your…" Leo let the sentence hang as he looked at Gavin.

"This is my friend, Reed," Eli said.

"Nice to meet you, beanie boy." Gavin greeted. "I haven't seen you here before."

"Yeah, I just got hired like a week ago."

"Do you know how to make drinks?"

"Uh, I can pour from bottles and use the beer tap."

"Good enough. I'll take a beer."

"I'll do a whisky." Gavin looked over to Eli with an flabbergast stare.

"You drink?"

"I do now."

"One beer and one whiskey coming right up." Leo went off making their drinks, though Gavin noted how he would glance at him periodically when he thought he wasn't looking.

"Have you done therapy at all?" Eli asked.

"Therapy? Pfft, no. I'm not that fucked up."

"You don't have to be legally insane to go to therapy."

"I know that. But I'm doing fine enough."

"Can you sit in that chair?"

"Okay, you have a point. But what about you? Have you ever gone to therapy?"

"… Not in recent memory," Eli mumbled, pushing up his glasses. "Listen, if I promise to go, will you go too?"

"… I'll think about it."

"Here are your drinks," Leo said as he placed their glasses in front of them. "Enjoy!"

"Thanks," Gavin muttered as he took a swig from his beer.

"Is there an issue with your seat?" Leo's question sparked an irritation in him that made his brows lower.

"No. Is it good for someone in rehab to work at a bar?"

"Look, drinking was never my thing. I got drunk once and never again… I wasn't trying to tick you off or anything. I was just asking 'cause you were standing and thought I forgot to clean—"

"I'm standing 'cause I like to stand. Got an issue with that?"

"No, not at all." Leo held up his hands defensively. "I had a friend that stood up all the time or was sitting on the floor. That just kinda reminded me of him, and speaking of reminding me," his eyes squinted, and he put a hand to his chin, "You look so familiar it's bugging the shit outta me."

"… I do?"

"Yeah, you," he snapped his fingers, and his eyes lit up. "You're that cop that pulled me outta that dumpster! Do you remember that?

"… That's you? You look so different."

"Yeah, well, I'm not covered in trash and sores now. I thanked you for that, right?"

"No, you were too busy rambling about how the shadows were trying to eat you."

"Oh… We remember that night very differently."

"Very."

"Hey, beanie boy, stop slackin' and get back to work!" the worker on the other end of the bar chided.

"Alright, Craig. Get off my ass. Holler if you two need anything." Leo left the pair as he went off to help elsewhere.

"… He's changed so much but so little," Gavin said quietly. "What happened between you two exactly?"

"He showed up at my home under the influence, and Chloe had to 'escort' him out. I'm honestly astounded he didn't get himself killed those years he was out of his mind. But, what have you been up to all these years?"

"Working to be a detective. Needless to say, I succeeded and met some damn good people along the way."

"You're satisfied with where you are?"

"For the most part. I mean, Fowler's been getting on my ass about my work ethic as of late, but he still thinks I'm worth keeping around. Hell, maybe one day I could even be Lieutenant when Anderson retires."

"So… You'd say you're happy with your life?"

"Damn," he looked over to his brother, "What is it with you and the heavy-hitting questions today?"

"It's really just a yes or no question."

"… Hey, is that you on the TV?" Gavin pointed to the television behind Eli, who turned around to look for himself. An older reporter was on the screen, and beside him was a picture of Eli and Anderson beside an ambulance from far away. The headline read: 'Creator of Androids Attacked by his Creations?'.

"Yes, it is." An annoyed tone was attached to Eli's words, and he downed the rest of his whiskey. "We've stayed here long enough." He stood up from his chair, and Gavin pulled a few bills from his wallet and set them on the bar.

"Keep the change." He said, patting Leo on the back on their way outside. "You think we should head back to the apartment?" Eli put a hand to his chin.

"I—"

"Elijah, wait!" Leo's exclamation butted in as he rushed out of the bar.

"Yes?" Eli said impatiently as he turned to face Leo, who anxiously toyed with a piece of paper in his hands.

"I'm… I'm really fucking sorry. I shouldn't have put you through all my bullshit. But, I-I know you're not in such a good place right now, a-and want to help you in any way I can. So," he timidly held out the piece of paper, "H-here's my number. You can call me if you need anything o-or if you wanna just talk, ya know?" Eli stared blankly at the paper for a moment before taking it in his hand and stuffing it in his hoodie pocket.

"Thank you, Leo." Eli thanked the younger man. "If I ever need your assistance, I'll call. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too," Leo said, smiling with a flushed face. "And stay safe, please."

Once settled in the car, Gavin watched Eli take the piece of paper and rip it to shreds.