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

DATE: - -, -

TIME: 12:42:06 P.M

Gabriel didn't like fighting, either with his fists or his words. But the world didn't care about what he hated or loved. From his place at the edge of the matt, he cringed at the sound of a body slamming hard, a loud smack ringing through the training room.

"You need to hold your hands higher, young master," Peter instructed, massaging his red knuckles. Eli was silent, as he always was when training, as he picked himself up, blood dripping from his bruised lip to stain the already bloody matt. Despite his injuries, he gave no sign of pain as he got into a fighting stance, his breathing steady and his fists raised higher. He looked away when they began sparring again, though that just made him face the other pair of sparrers on the other side of the matt. The younger of them taking down his larger opponent while another boy watched from the sidelines, cheering him on. The fighting, there was so much of it. He looked behind him to see Rebecca standing against the wall, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed in a white tank top and matching boxing shorts. She smiled at him.

"Miss Rebecca, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, young master." She walked over and sat down beside him. "What is it you want to ask?"

"Why do you people want to hurt us?" he asked, and she paused for a moment, her pink lips quirking and blue eyes looking to the side. He followed her gaze to the spectating area above them but quickly looked away when he saw Mother looking down at them from behind the glass.

"It is a complicated reason to explain, young master." Rebecca started looking back at him. "To put it simply, there are people who want to see the Kamskis erased, forever. They'll bring an end to anyone who bears the Kamski family name or aids them."

"But what did we do?"

"You were born." She answered simply, and his heart sunk, the thought of someone he'd never met wanting to kill him rattling him to his core. "But do not worry young master," Rebecca reassured him with a smile. "That is why I am here. They'll have to go through me first before they lay a single hand on you. But training to fight on your own has its benefits. Young master Elijah and Peter will finish in five minutes, so prepare yourself for us to go next."

"… Okay." He nodded, reaching up and rubbing his cheek where a bruise was slowly fading. Rebecca got back up and returned to her original spot. He glanced at Eli and Peter sparring and then looked down at his only arm. How was he supposed to fight anyone, let alone someone trying to kill him? He couldn't even fight—

"Ready to get your ass kicked today, stick hand?" he was rudely pulled from thought by the taunting question. He looked to see the other boy, who had been watching the other sparring session, strut over to him. His pristine training clothes were baggy on his thin frame, and his emerald green and sky-blue eyes were beaming with a kind of arrogance that made him roll his eyes.

"Just go away, Saul." He groaned, but of course, Saul just laughed, sitting down beside him. He scooted away.

"And what, miss you eating matt? Not a chance."

"Shouldn't you be training too?" Saul looked peeved at the question.

"My mom says I have a condition. She won't let me fight, alright. Trust me. If she wasn't holding me back, I'd be kicking everyone's ass here. Especially yours." He jabbed him in his armless shoulder, making him flinch away and protectively shield his stump. There was a heavy groan and booming smack that made both boys jump. Gabriel looked to see Peter down on his back, with Eli standing over him. However, Eli wasn't looking at his opponent but glaring at Saul.

"I think that's good enough for today," Eli said as Peter got off the ground, still staring down Saul, who shook nervously as Eli approached them. Standing over them, he was backlit by the overhead lights, further darkening the streaks of blood running down his mouth and staining his shirt. "You look clean for someone in a training uniform," Eli said, his voice low and stare piercing. "Want me to get it dirty for you?"

"Hey, hey, y-you touch me, and you'll get in trouble." Saul retorted, holding his hands up defensively and scooting back. As entertaining as it may have been to see Saul try to fight Eli, he didn't want his brother to be punished.

"He was just joking, Eli." He said, but Eli didn't look away.

"Yeah, I was just joking. This cripple can shake off more than a jab."

"Can—"

"Alright, there's no need to go further here." A new voice cut Eli off. The other boy who had been sparring was walking over, standing taller than them, appearing very similar to Saul except for his taller stature and muscular build. He was smiling despite the tense conversation he had just entered. "I think you've gotten your point across, Elijah," he put his hand on Eli's shoulder, "so why don't you just grab some water and relax."

"Only if you teach your brother to keep his hands to himself, Solomon." Eli countered, batting Solomon's hand away. That strained Solomon's smile, becoming more of an agitated sneer than a friendly grin.

"Well, you should teach your brother how to defend himself better, if you don't, want him beat up all the time. The poor bastard." Oh, he thought only Mother called him that nickname. Eli's eyes narrowed, stepping closer to Solomon even though he was taller.

"I wouldn't call him that if I wanted to keep all my teeth."

"Oh, I didn't realize you were so eager to taste fist again, Elijah." Solomon chuckled.

"Eli, please don't." Gabriel pleaded as he grabbed Eli's hand, images of his brother pinned to the ground, beaten and bruised, filling his head. Eli looked at him, switching from his menacing glare to a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, Gabe. I'll be fine."

"You said that last time." Eli's smile didn't falter.

"This time will be different."

"Don't fool yourself," Solomon said, already going back onto the matt.

"Promise you'll be okay." Gabriel held tight onto his hand.

"Promise," Eli promised, ruffling his dark brown hair. Eli let go of his hand and headed back onto the matt. He sat back down beside a giddy Saul.

"I've been waiting for another round," Saul said with a smirk. He looked back at Rebecca. She stood silently with her hands behind her back. He then looked to the spectator glass to see if anyone would step in. His Mother was still there, but now another woman had joined her. Aunt Susie looked on nervously, but Mother kept a stony expression. Neither did anything. He looked back at the matt to see that Eli and Solomon had taken their fighting positions with Peter standing between them.

"So, what's the terms here, Elijah?" Solomon asked.

"Whoever makes the other say 'Uncle' first wins. Agree?"

"Agreed."

"Ready?" Peter asked, and both boys nodded. "One… Two… Three!" Gabriel had already turned away at the count of one. He spared himself the sight of the ensuing violence but not the sound of balled fists ramming into tender flesh and groans of exertion. He wanted it to be over the minute it started, but Saul seemed to be enjoying himself just fine with how he cheered and clapped his hands. He didn't know who was winning, but he hoped with all his heart that it was Eli.

"Go on, Eli, just say it." His hope was eaten away by Solomon's words. He mentally prepared himself for having to see his brother with a black eye in the following days to come. "I said— agh!" Solomon gave a sudden cry of pain accompanied by a heavy thump. Saul went silent. Gabriel dared to peak at the matt. Eli had a bleeding Solomon pinned down on his back with an armbar that he desperately tried and failed to break out of.

"Say it, or I break it." Eli threatened, pulling the arm back further, pulling another cry from Solomon.

"Uncle, uncle!" Solomon finally relented, and Eli paused a moment longer before letting go, a satisfied look on his face. While Solomon remained on the ground cradling his arm, Eli stood up, wiping the blood dripping from the fresh cut above his brow. Gabriel heard clapping and turned around to see that it was Rebecca along with Peter, who had joined her side. Looking higher, he saw Mother giving a slow clap, but Auntie Susie was gone. She quickly reappeared as she hurried into the training room, worry in her every step. Saul quickly joined her as she went to Solomon's side.

"Are you alright, baby?" she asked, helping him sit up.

"Fine, mom." He grumbled with bloody gums and tried brushing her off and getting up on his own, but she was relentless in her mission to be at his side.

"You did so well, Sol." She praised him, kissing the top of his head. "Ezra, grab the medkit, please."

"Yes, Mistress Susanna." Solomon's sparring partner answered, grabbing the kit and holding the door open for them as she and her sons left the training room.

"See," Eli started as he walked over to Gabriel and crouched down, smiling softly. "Promised I'd be fine." The bright red blood dripping down Eli's face said otherwise.

"But you're bleeding more."

"Nothing a band-aid won't stop." Eli chuckled, glancing at the cuts on his bleeding knuckles. "I may look like I'm hurt, but I don't feel a thing, really."

"… Do you have to look like you're hurt?" Eli's smile wilted.

"Sometimes I will have to be. If I want to keep you safe." He caressed Gabriel's cheek, massaging the healing bruise with his thumb. "And I want you safe." His smile returned. "Don't worry, seeing me like this won't bother you eventually." He didn't think he'd ever be used to seeing his brother bloody and beaten. Telling him to be unperturbed by the sight was like telling him he needed to stop breathing to live. Regardless, he nodded.

"Okay, Eli."

DATE: December 11, 2038

TIME: 07:11:08 P.M

"Fuckin' hurry, your slow ass, Chris!" Gavin yelled as he threw himself into the passenger seat of Chris' police car, wishing he could be in the driver's seat and booking it out of the precinct's parking lot.

"I am!" Chris retorted, getting into the driver's seat and quickly driving onto the road, but they were immediately met with traffic. Gavin growled and slapped the police car sirens on, the harsh tones quickly opening up a path for them. But, even with that, it felt like they were going too slow.

"How long until we get to Kamski's?" He questioned.

"Ten minutes at tops."

"Make it five."

"But we don't need to be the first ones—"

"Don't care, just fucking book it!" he banged his fist on the dash with a loud crack, startling Chris, who did start picking up the pace.

"Gav, are you okay?" Chris asked, worried, but his eyes promptly widened. "Did you just bust my dash?!" Gavin moved his fist to see that he had indeed made a dent. He took a deep breath, uncurling his fist. He had to keep control.

"I'll pay you, Chris. Just drive! The android said she escaped 24 hours ago. That's enough time for some serious shit to happen. We can't waste another minute unless you want a dead body on our hands." Eli's dead body. Needless to say, Chris didn't go below fifty for the entire ride out of the city and to the secluded area of the Kamski residence. The road was long and winding, with tall, dark trees looming overhead. Gavin looked for any tracks of any vehicle that could have gone done this road before him, but he couldn't find any at first glance.

Finally, they came to a clearing where the grand Kamski villa rested near the snowy shores of the Detroit River, whose waves crashed up against the embankment in rhythmic bursts. As soon as the car came to a stop, Gavin was out. He rushed to the front door, ignoring the biting chill of the air. The Kamski villa stood tall and silent under the night sky, with no light emanating from its dark windows. In this case, he couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign. He was already banging on the large front door by the time Chris stepped out of the police car, its red and blue lights reflecting off the pristine walls of the villa.

"Mr. Kamski, it's the DPD! We're here to help!" He called out, hoping for an answer, but got none. He's not dead. "Damnit, I said open up!" He put a hand to his gun and stepped back, preparing to kick down the door.

"Gav, hold up!" Chris said, grabbing him by the shoulders, stopping him. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but you need to calm down."

"I am calm." He retorted, shrugging off Chris. Another pair of headlights caught his attention, and he groaned when seeing the old car of Anderson stop next to the police car.

"What's going on?" Anderson asked as he got out of the car, his android partner getting out of the passenger seat.

"I was going to find out before Chris stopped me," Gavin answered before Chris could, who shot him a quick glare.

"We need to handle this situation delicately," Connor said, walking up to the two with Anderson in tow. "The aggressor could still be in—" the front door creaked before Connor could finish. Gavin spun around to face whoever had opened the door. His eyes first latched onto the bright yellow LED of another Chloe model, whose teary blue eyes peeked through the small opening. Her eyes quickly locked onto his and widened.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"We're with the Detroit police department, Miss. We're here to help you." Chris answered softly as if he were speaking to a frightened child.

"Help?" she looked out at the flashing police car lights. Gavin was startled when the door swung inwards, revealing more of the android and the pitch-black inside of the building. This android, too, was in a state of disarray. Her short black dress was torn, her hair a tangled mess, with her holographic skin fading in and out in certain places, but he couldn't see any blood on her, red blood anyway. "Is she okay?!" she asked worriedly, eyes full of worry, eyes filled with tears, and lip quivering. Gavin guessed she was talking about the android that ran into the precinct.

"She's safe," Chris continued. "And we're here to make sure you're safe too. Is the person that hurt you here?"

"I…" she nervously bit her lip. "I don't know how to answer that." Her LED flickered, and she looked back inside. He couldn't see anything besides the shadowy silhouettes of furniture in the dark. She looked back at them with a shaky smile. " I think I left the oven on. Let me go check, please. I don't want to blow up in a blaze on this fine night." Before anyone could respond, she shut the door.

"Something's wrong here," Anderson said, the detective part of his brain starting up.

"No shit." Gavin snarked. "We have to get in there. Mr. Kamski could be dying in there for all we know. Is an ambulance on the way?"

"They're nine minutes away," Connor answered. "But we need to secure the scene before any paramedics can come in."

"Then she needs to hurry the hell up." He went to go bang on the door again, but the door opened before his fist could connect. It opened fully this time with the same android behind it. No, not the same. This one had an LED spinning blue, her blonde ponytail resting over her shoulder, and her blue dress had minor damage. She also seemed… taller. Though that may have been because she didn't cower or slouch like the others as she looked at them with a gentle expression. This was Chloe, and with how calm she looked, it gave him hope that Eli was alive.

"Good evening, officers," her voice was just as calm as her expression. "How may we help you?"

"Where's Mr. Kamski?" Gavin questioned before anyone else could ask a dumb question. She looked him in the eyes, her LED spinning yellow for the briefest moment.

"He's fine if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't think that's what I asked you." He growled, one step away from barging in himself.

"Please don't mind him, Miss," Anderson said, Chris stepping aside to allow him to the front. Her eyes flashed with recognition.

"Oh, Lieutenant Anderson, it's a pleasure to see you again. Unfortunately, it is a shame it's under these conditions."

"Agreed. Your friend came all to the precinct alive, but it was obvious that something had happened to her and your other friend. We've got more police and medics on the way to take care of you guys. So, if the person that did all of this is here, let us know now so no one else can be hurt."

"… Here? No, they are no longer here. It's just me, Charity, and Mister Elijah."

"Is he injured?" Gavin but in, and her calm gaze returned to him.

"He says he's fine. He's in his pool room relaxing."

"Then would you please allow us inside?" Anderson asked. "So, we can get all the evidence we can."

"… I don't believe that would be an issue." Her gaze snapped sharply to Connor. "As long as the RK800 remains outside." Damn, what did Connor do when he was over here?

"I understand." Connor nodded, a fallen look on his face as he walked back to the front yard. Multiple other police cars had arrived; forensics preparing for their job. Chloe stepped aside, gesturing for them to come inside the dark villa. Gavin was the first one inside, flicking on his flashlight to better see. The first thing his light hit was the portrait of Elijah Kamski, untouched.

His focus was on the door presumably leading to the earlier mentioned pool room. He tried opening it but was stopped by the lock.

"Mister Elijah wouldn't like to be disturbed at the moment," Chloe advised him.

"Sucks to be him then." Did she not care like he did? Wasn't she deviant? Or maybe there was something more to this? Were they trying to hide something? Where was that other android? He snapped himself to the present. He could ask questions later. He swapped his flashlight from his right hand to the left one to get a good grip on the door handle.

"Miss Chloe, please, if you could tell Mr. Kamski that this is urgent and to open the—" The lock on the door was snapped by Gavin's pull. Opening the door with a cracking snap. "Damn, Reed."

"Mr. Kamski, are you in here? It's the DPD. We're here to help." he called out as he walked into the room illuminated by moonlight that pooled through the wall-sized window. He quickly scanned over the room, his gut-churning cold at the sight of an empty room. "Shit." He cursed, looking back to the others. "He's not here." For the second time that night, Chloe's LED spun yellow.

"He isn't?"

"Yes, that's what I just fucking said." So, this wasn't part of the plan? If there was one, he could never be sure, and he fucking hated it. He went to the closet door in the room and immediately opened it to begin his search. It was a small room with nothing but a couple of tall electric cellos in the back, covered in dust.

"Gabe, I want you to write me a list."

"What kind of list are we talking about here?"

"A birthday list."

"I'm pretty sure you already know what I want, Mr. 171 IQ."

"For practicality's sake."

"Alright, fine, I will. But guess what's going to be first on my list. For practicality's sake."

"Would it be a cello?"

"Damn right,"

"Gabe,"

"Dang, I said dang."

He shut the door.

"What's wrong with the lights?" Anderson inquired, his flashlight also out as he investigated the room.

"Power outage," Chloe responded, LED still yellow, making him quirk an eyebrow.

"The other android said she went to turn off the stove. If the power's out, how is it on?"

"It's electronic, sir." She answered promptly. "I hope the dark won't be an issue. You should still be able to find him, right?"

"Of course, Miss," Chris reassured. "Is it alright if we get a statement from you?"

"Yes, but not now, I'd…" Gavin blocked out the conversation as he spotted another door on the other side of the pool. He paused on his way when his eyes caught sight of the tall tower looming in the distance.

"You're making a company?"

"It was Father's idea."

"You're taking advice from that prick?"

"He wasn't giving advice. But that doesn't matter. What does, however, is the name of the company, which we get to choose."

"The only thing, apparently. We could go for something simple. Like Lime, maybe."

"But I'm not selling fruit."

"Well, you got any ideas?"

"A list, actually."

"Holy shoot, this is like Latin. Only wrinkly brained nerds would be able to understand, Ver-is-mi-"

"Verisimilitude."

"Exactly my point. Here, how about I pick out the words I know and twist them around like… There!"

"Cyberlife?"

"Bada bing bada boom!"

"Hmm, I don't hate it. How about we capitalize the "L" and I say we have the name of the company of the future."

He'd find Eli. That's what he told himself to keep his hopes up as he opened the door, but those hopes were quickly dashed when he saw the state of the villa. It looked like a giant monster had terrorized the place. Furniture was flipped over or had missing legs, shards of glass crunching under his feet, and wall ornaments were strewn about the dirty floor. But surprisingly, there was no blood to be found. With how violently items seemed to be broken and large holes in the walls, there should have at least been a drop of blood. Or maybe he just wasn't seeing it?

"Jesus, it's like a hurricane ripped through here," Anderson commented as he walked through the destroyed living area. "I don't see any blood. Connor might find something here, though. Maybe some of that blue blood."

"We're not looking for blue blood. We're looking for Mr. Kamski." Gavin groaned, growing frustrated with every passing second.

"Reed, you're usually an ass, but tonight more so than usual. Somethin' bothering you?"

"I know that face."

"… What face?"

"The face you make when something's bothering you. Would you care to tell me what it is?"

"Shouldn't you already know, Einstein?"

"Gabe, whatever Mother said to you, it isn't true."

"That line won't cut it this time. The bitch had receipts this time around, whoopie phcking doo."

"And what were those receipts?"

"Who the fuck is Julia Zimmerman?"

"… … Someone you shouldn't know."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Anderson, for not kicking off jokes while investigating a damn crime scene." Gavin shot back.

"Jeez, sorry I asked." Anderson huffed.

"Just go check the kitchen. I'll look down that hallway."

"So, you're the one in charge here."

"Fuck off, and let me do my job, Anderson." He left down a hallway before Anderson could retort. After coming across a bathroom and walk-in closet, he found a door that led to the back of the villa. He shivered as he pointed his flashlight out into the dark, only seeing snow and the Detroit River further down the decline. Though he didn't see any footprints, a tingling feeling in his gut told him to go further. His breath came out as frosty mist as he started walking towards the river, his boots crunching in the snow with each step.

"Mr. Kamski, are you out here?!" he called out into the night and was not surprised when he got no answer. His searching eyes caught sight of a dock at the river, and if he saw correctly, there was something at the end of it. "Mr. Kamski!" he called out again and quickened his pace. His heart started to pound heavily in his chest. His feet hit the dark wood of the dock just as his light touched the person. Sitting at the end of the dock was a man still as a corpse with long dark hair that draped down his back in shoulders, dressed in what looked to be a dark red robe. Eli. "Mr. Kamski, are you alright?!" he cried out, undoubtedly loud enough for Eli to hear, but he didn't react. "Phck." He ran down the slippery dock. Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he hurt? Was he dead?

"Stop."

Gavin did. He wasn't sure if he was obeying the command or stunned into stillness by the low and rough tone of Eli's voice. He didn't lift his head or turn around but remained stationary. Did Eli not recognize his voice? He must have known who he was, right? Right? It was a moment before Gavin found his voice.

"It's me, Mr. Kamski. I'm here to help you." He wanted to step closer but feared it would draw a negative reaction. A breath of silence.

"… Light has no value here." Were the words Eli spoke so quietly. With a moment of hesitation, he turned off his flashlight, the only light source now being the moon and stars. It suddenly felt much colder.

"We should get somewhere warmer, Mr. Kamski. You'll get sick out here."

"… The only sickness here is a mind not willing to indulge in tranquility… Sit." Eli didn't need to gesture to let him know where to sit. Slowly he walked to the end of the dock and sat beside Eli, his legs hanging over the edge. Being closer now, even in the dark of the night, he could see that Eli had his legs crossed with his arms resting in his lap, though his robe sleeves covered them. He hoped that Eli was wearing something underneath it. It was too cold to be out in nothing but a robe. Even being so close, he couldn't see Eli's face through the curtain of dark hair that fluttered softly in the cold winds.

"Mr—"

"Hushshsh." Eli silenced him with a gentle whisper. "A moment of peace, would you so kindly gift us?" Though frustrated and confused out of his mind, he listened, shutting his mouth and looking out. Moon and starlight glittered off of the playful ripples of the river like a gleaming crystal gem. The rhythmic sloshing of the river's waves, the hum of many nightly insects fluttering in the dark, and the occasional song of a nearby bird were all soothing to the ear. It was almost like the night's melody that it would gift to those willing to listen.

"What are you called?" Eli's soft tone of voice matched the lulling hum of the night. Unlike his coarse voice.

"Gavin Reed. Detective Gavin Reed. From the DPD." Was Eli messing with him, testing him?

"… Detective Reed?" Eli repeated.

"Yes, I'm here to help you. Are you hurt?"

"… No pain dwells in this weak body of mine. You will need to look elsewhere if pain is what you seek."

"Now's not the time for fucking riddles." Gavin cursed, quietly hoping that Eli would get onto him for cursing. He didn't. "Look, Mr. Kamski. One of your androids ran into the police precinct, and she had your blood on you. I know you're hurting somewhere. Paramedics are on their way to take care of you." Hopefully, they could give Eli something too so he could stop talking like an insane person. Or was it an act to try and gain something? Whatever the hell it was, it wasn't fucking helping. He pulled out his radio like he should have when he first found Eli and pressed the call button.

"Anderson, you there?" he asked, trying not to let his frustration seep into his voice.

"Yeah, I'm here. You find something?" Anderson's voice grumbled.

"I found the man we're looking for."

"Where is he?"

"He's in the back at the end of the docks. I'm out here with him."

"Is he okay?" He paused before he answered that question.

"He's alive, but he's not saying what's wrong with him. He's talking all cryptic and shit.

"Yeah, he spoke like that when I talked to him before."

"No, something's wrong. I think he only has a robe on, and I'm freezing my ass off here in a jacket."

"Jesus. I'll tell the paramedics to head down there."

"Okay, but have them dim their lights."

"Why?"

"He wanted me to turn mine off."

"… Alright, I'll tell 'em. Fuck, why do I get the feeling this is gonna be a shit show?"

"You and me both." He ended the call and put his radio back. Eli hadn't given any reaction to him talking with Anderson. He knew they would only have so much time to talk, truly talk like how they would all those years ago. So why was Eli wasting it?

"Mr. Kamski, can you look at me?" he asked, voice pleading. Instead of a cryptic message he'd have to unravel to figure out its meaning, he was given silence. "Please… Eli…" his throat clinched at the name he hadn't spoken for years. "Look at me." For a moment, he'd thought his words had no effect until he realized the singular motion Eli had, ceased. His chest no longer rose or fell with soft breaths, like life had left him in that instance. "Eli!" his heart in his throat, he gripped Eli's shoulder in a panic, jostling the other man. The touch seemed to grant Eli breath as he took in a gasping breath of air as if he had been underwater.

Eli moved for the first time, hunching over as he coughed like he had a bug caught in his throat. Gavin put a hand to his back to try and comfort him, but it wouldn't stop the coughing.

"Hey, help is coming. They're on their—" he was cut off by the horrible sound of violent wrenching as the contents of Eli's stomach were spewed out into the river's dark waters. It actually looked like it hurt him.

"Is everything alright?" the voice from behind startled him. He whipped around but was nearly blinded by the bright light flashing in his face. However, he didn't need to see to know it was Connor standing at the other end of the dock.

"No, it fucking isn't!" Gavin yelled back. "Tell the paramedics to hurry their slow asses, now!" he returned his attention to Eli, who had stopped throwing up but was still hunched over. Gavin didn't know if it was because he was too tired to sit up or because he was going to vomit again. "You're going to be okay, Mr. Kamski. I promise." He reassured him, still keeping a hand on his back. He pulled his legs back onto the deck and tried to help Eli sit up.

"I'd advise against moving him, Detective Reed." Connor interrupted him, having walked closer.

"Why's that, tin can?" he growled back, looking at the android whose LED twisted a sickly yellow with brown eyes narrowed in scrutinization.

"Because his left arm is fractured and there could be more injures, we're not aware of."

"He's…" Gavin couldn't finish and looked back to Eli, who had gone still but not for long. Slowly but surely, he raised his head and finally fulfilled the request to look at him. The light from Connor's flashlight illuminated only half of Eli's face, but it was enough for Gavin to know his fears were right. Dried blood caked Eli's cheek, dark and striking on his pale skin. A fresh trail of lifeblood ran down his cracked and cut lips, most of which was likely mixed with the river flow. His bloodshot eye glistened, its cold blue iris piercing as it bore into Gavin with an emotion he had never witnessed from his brother.

Fear.