November 8th, 2038
PM 02:34:37
Chains rattled from the ceiling, each strike digging in layers of grain held together by tough nylon. You cracked the logo with your knuckles in sets of three, side stepping when your elbow jabbed at the side.
Your breathing came in bursts; in through your nose, out through your mouth. You were bouncing on your toes, but kept yourself grounded with each attack.
It hadn't been that long since you found yourself in DPD's gym. It had been awhile since you had this much inner conflict to work through.
Shot by a deviant. Punch.
Put on suspension. Kick.
Shot again. Elbow jab.
Suspended for the second time. Crack.
Whatever was developing between you and Connor. Inhale. Step. Strike.
Having to deal with Elijah. Exhale. Stance switch. Snap.
"What did that poor thing do to you?"
A plume of dust slipped between the threads at your last attack, and you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand. Sweat seeped into the wraps on your hands. You looked to the right to find Chris leaning in the entryway, separated by various workout equipment and mirrored walls.
"Better than a person, right?" You knocked against the punching bag, "I've been told that would be frowned upon."
"Well, yeah. And it would get you charged with aggravated assault." He smirked, entering the gym and looping his thumbs on his utility belt, "Wouldn't want to have to arrest my own partner, now."
"That would make for one hell of a story, wouldn't it?"
You raised your fists, and kept beating the shit out of the hanging bag.
"Sure would." His back pressed against the wall behind it, "Sooo…Uh…Whatchya doin' here?"
You glared at him from under your wet eyelashes, your face hot and sticky.
"Just trying to stay in shape."
"That all this is?"
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?"
He pursed his lips, "So like, you know how the computer always warns you to not save your password?"
"Yeah?"
"And you know how I forget what it is, pretty much every day?"
"…Yeah?"
"Well, I locked myself out." His mouth scrunched to the side, and his eyes fell in shame, "And uh…Tech support is 'unlocking' my credentials."
You huffed.
Wearing your heart on your sleeve was similar. You wished it came with a warning to not stay logged in on a public network. A suggestion to keep it locked away and safe from prying eyes. Apparently, you didn't uncheck that box, and your friends at DPD were hellbent on cracking the code.
Chris wasn't exactly subtle with his frustrations, either.
"What's wrong?"
"I miss having dogs around here."
You stopped, brows creased in the center, "…What?"
"Don't you remember?" He yawned, "The K-9 Unit and police dogs?"
"Of course I do. I also remember when they made the decision to cut the program after the android officers were rolled out."
"Just one, unpaid public servant swapped for another, right?" He sighed, "What were you doing in the range with Gavin?"
You cocked your chin, squinting at him. His sporadic lines of questioning were cause for concern.
"Shooting…?"
"I bet that was interesting." He chuckled, "What, did he say a bunch of dumb one-liners like 'I'm a sharpshooter who never fires blanks?'"
"Something like that…" You eyed him up, "What's your deal?"
"Uh – I haven't seen you in like, three days?"
"And?"
"Ouch." He gave you a frown, "You don't miss me?!"
"Well duh. You just seem…Off."
"Nah, I'm good."
"…Miller."
His eyes popped open like he was caught doing something wrong.
"It's…" His face perked up, "It's nothing, really."
He waved you off with a smile.
"Chris."
"You've got enough going on, okay? Back off."
Your neck snaked back, taken by surprise by his sudden hostility, "Whoa, there."
"Ugh…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sorry…"
You ran your arm over your forehead, lifting the hem of your tank top to clean the rest of your face from sweat.
"That bruise is something fierce."
You picked up your water bottle, taking a sip before leaning next to him along the wall.
"No kidding." You popped the lid back down, "Still hurts like a son of a bitch."
"You wouldn't know it from here." He elbowed your shoulder, "You need to take it easy."
"That's not going to get my job back." You slid to the floor, and balanced your elbows on your knees.
Your hands dangled over your boots. You rolled your wrists, staring at yourself in the mirrors across the gym.
"Wife keeps calling me at work." Chris put his hands on his hips, and he took a step forward, "She knows she's not supposed to, but…"
He paused, and his eyes rose to yours in his reflection, dropping down immediately.
"She misses you too, I'd bet."
"Yeah…Yeah, I get that." He shifted his weight, cracking his neck, "She's talking about getting one of those babysitter androids to help out with Damian. Not sure how I feel about it."
You tensed, and a sick feeling pooled in your stomach.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm…" He turned to you, his side lining up with the mirror, "I mean, she said it would be temporary. Until all this blows over, but…Like, what if they turn deviant, you know? And like, what do you do with an android once you're 'done with it?' Trade it in for store credit?"
He shook his head, "It…She…He…" He groaned, "Having Connor around, getting to know an android instead of just watching them plug themselves in every night has been really messing with my head about all this crap, too. I dunno…"
He lifted his head up to you again, "What do you think?"
Aside from your opinions on "hiring" an enslaved people, Gavin's story resonated with Chris's dilemma. You wondered how Chris would react if he'd found himself in the same situation.
"I think you should go spend time with your wife, and tell her that the reason you're working so hard is to make sure she and Damian have a safe city to live in."
He huffed, a smile stretching on his lips.
"Civvies just don't get it, do they?"
You flicked the tap of your water bottle open with your thumb, wetting your mouth before answering, "No…No, they don't."
"You catching shit from your family, yet?"
"They've been calling here and there. Asking me if things are really as bad as the media makes them out to be, here in Detroit." You shrugged, "Obviously I told them the stories are over-exaggerated and they shouldn't worry."
"Obviously." He shook his head, eyes rolling to the ceiling, "You didn't even tell them you got shot again, did you?"
"Nope."
"You're my spirit animal." He laughed, "Man, I wish I could be half as tough as you…"
"Oh, stop." You pushed yourself off the rubber flooring, stretching as you stood, "You're as tough as they come."
"Eh, I'm alright. Wouldn't have myself together half as much as you do if I had everything you've been through thrown at me."
"Sure you would." You looked to the side, snatching a pair of padded gloves from a rack.
You tossed them at him, and he caught them in surprise.
"Time to bleed it out, Miller."
"No, no no no-" He shook his head frantically, "I've been emasculated enough for one day."
"Since when did you have a 'man' ego?"
"Always. At least I'm man enough to admit it." He smirked, "No, really though, thanks but no thanks."
"Come on…" You gave him an enthusiastic smile, "A punching bag can't fight back, after all. Think of it as…helping me out. Yeah. Taking one for the team?"
"Oh, that's sooooo not fair…What a guilt trip."
"If I wanted to guilt you, I'd-"
"I've heard enough. I'm gonna go get changed, and then you're gonna get your ass beat."
You crossed your arms, taking stock on the rest of the sparring equipment.
"That's the spirit."
…
A foam helmet stuck to your head and cheeks. Your hands, feet, shins, and torso were covered by a red, matching set. The straps weren't as heavy on your shoulders as your vest was, but it felt like a hug from an old friend, regardless.
Chris, decked out in blue, stood on the other side of the mat.
"God, I hate wearing a cup…" He squirmed in place and his hand hovered as he was about to put his mouthguard in, "I hope you're not expecting me to go easy on you just because you're…you."
"If you do, I'll be pissed." Your nose twitched, "Just don't knee me in the stomach."
You became more anxious to vent some frustrations out as you remembered Hank disarming you.
"I'm not that mean." He bit down on the plastic, and beat his fists together before rolling his shoulders.
You did the same, and the two of you started bouncing like hopped up criminals ready for a brawl.
His face danced between raised hands, and your mind slipped into an analytic state. An adrenaline-induced mode of predicted movements and possible counters – scanning for moments of opportunity.
He jabbed, and you side-stepped, going for an upper-cut. He jumped back, giving you an impressed look.
"Wooo!" The noise was gargled by the piece around his teeth, but being put on the defensive seemed to wake him up a little.
Your fists met as the two of you struck at each other, ducking to the side in unison. You traded shots – him being hit on the cheek, you on your chin. Your vision went fuzzy for a moment, and you shook it straight.
He tensed. You could tell hitting you made him uncomfortable, so you gave him a nod of approval. You used the distraction to your advantage, delivering a blow twice as hard.
He blinked rapidly, flicking his nose with his thumb. That got his attention. Focused his anger.
The sparring match had your heart pounding, each connecting attack coming and going in inputs and outputs of vented emotions.
Just like down in the firing range with Gavin, this was what both of you needed. This was healthy. This was good.
And you'd both be sore by the time you guys were done.
…
Your hair was a mess, and you didn't care. Your helmet rolled out of your hands, the rough texture of the floor scratching at your back.
"Holy shit-" You heard Chris next to you, but your focus was trained on the twirling ceiling fan blades, "You hit like a truck-"
"I'm a cop-" Your eyes clamped shut as your pulse drummed in your head, "Or haven't you heard-"
"Yeah, yeah-" He laughed through his panting, "Don't give me the speech-"
He shifted, and you turned your head to find him balancing himself on his elbows; forearms pinned between his chest and the floor. He was smiling – relieved, his chuckles coming through sharp breaths.
"How'd I do?"
"Hah," You rolled over on your stomach, your arms shaking as you pushed yourself to your feet, "You're a much better punching bag than that thing."
You nodded over your shoulder as you held out a hand.
"Pfft-" He gave it an exhausted slap, pushing it away and standing on his own, "Get outta here with all that-"
He rested his hands on his knees, inflating his chest and releasing the captured air as he tried to catch his breath, "Now it's gonna be even harder to stay awake the rest of my shift."
"Good luck," You smirked, "I get to go home."
"Should've let that deviant shoot me." He yawned, shaking his head vigorously, "Ack!"
"Wake up, Officer Miller." You pushed his shoulder with a finger, "Back to work you go!"
Another yawn came, a disgruntled, squeaking groan leaving him as he stumbled towards the door.
"Shower, first." His feet dragged behind him.
He paused, gripping the frame, "You sticking around for a few?"
"Probably." You unstrapped your equipment, crouching to pick up your helmet, "Why?"
"Oh, just wondering." He waved, "I'll catch you before you leave."
You eyed him suspiciously as he covered his mouth, disappearing behind a corner.
It was just you and your reflection, and you studied it with a newly-found prowess.
You saw something new inside yourself – something that'd laid dormant until being strong was the only choice you had left. Something that pushed you past previously established benchmarks and factory settings.
Your shoulders heaved, your lungs working double-time like overclocked fans that sucked in fresh air and kicked out heated exhaust. You were splotchy and reddened, beaten down and rebuilt by shedding your own blood, sweat, and tears.
Whether CyberLife or anyone else wanted you out of Detroit and out of their business, what you'd told Chris would remain just as true:
You'd be sticking around for a while, and you dared "anyone" to try and prove you wrong.
And when that day came…
You'd be ready.
A/N: I think I got everyone! If I missed a reply, please tell me and I'm sorry! Also:
Here's the road map, in order:
27 - Hank x Reader
28 - Connor x Reader
29 - [Spoilers]
30 - Carl x Reader
31 - Back to our regularly-scheduled angsty programming.
Will keep you guys updated with more patch notes if anything changes!
