November 10th, 2038

AM 08:45:57


Fill to the waterline. Add three scoops of loose grounds. Hit "BREW."

Get the coffee while it's hot, because the bottom of the carafe tasted like ass. Use the real sugar before it disappeared, because no one in Central Station used that artificial sweetener bullshit.

Focus on literally anything else other than the heated argument reverberating from Fowler's office as he and Hank fought over who was the priority speaker. Try not to constantly look over your shoulder to spot the Jackal patrolling the station.

"What do you think they're yelling about?" Chris raised a cup to his lips as you poured your own.

"You see that shit-eating grin on Jackoff's face when he left the office?" Gavin snickered, "I'd put money down that he's stirring the pot with his fancy little FBI lanyard that looks too heavy for his scrawny fucking neck."

"Wow, Reed…Tell me how you really feel."

"When have I not, Miller?" He stuck his tongue out, rested an elbow on the lounge's glass window, crossed his ankles and peeked out from under his wrist as he took a sip, "Skulking around here like he owns the goddamn place…Fucker."

You watched the back of his head turn, attention snapping to Fowler's door that slammed open so hard it bounced off the railing. Heard a coarse bark in retaliation, and Hank shoot a snarl behind him…

Not at Connor, who had his hands in his pockets as his feet traded spots on the stairs in an almost natural jog, but at Captain Fowler.

"Looks bad." Gavin reached in his jacket, sticking a cigarette in his mouth before tucking the pack inside and fumbling around his pockets for a lighter, "I'll be outside if you ne-"

"REED. MILLER. IN MY OFFICE!"

The two of them flinched, and Gavin spit his cigarette on the floor. A pair of teeth marks pocked the filter; it'd snapped in half.

"So much for that…" He wiped his mouth, looking at you, "You good?"

You tore away, stirring your coffee absent-mindedly.

"Yeah."

"Being awfully quiet." Chris leaned around you, trying to get you to look at him like a cat who wanted to play.

"I'm good." You bit the inside of your cheek, lifting the mug and walking back towards your desk,

"Fowler doesn't seem like he's in a patient mood. Shouldn't keep him waiting."

You heard their mumbles. Ignored them. Did your best to keep your head down and not stare at Connor sitting on the long end of Hank's desk with his feet dangling off the edge and a finger pointing at the floor amidst a growling, suppressed shout.

Didn't want to home in on Hank's defeated look as he leaned back in his chair, quietly reasoning with the pissed off android that served as his partner.

Kept your eyes from straying to the glass office where Reed and Miller once stood at full alert, and then sat down in the two chairs simultaneously with rage painted on their faces.

You took your temples in your hands. Clawed at your head until your fingers eased the pressure under your scalp.

You were no longer chasing ghosts.

They were chasing you.

Every turn – haunted. Every conversation – an exorcism. Every lecture – preaching to the choir.

You'd been dancing for rain to wash away your sins, and now you had the storm…

You didn't account for the flood to sweep through the streets of ground zero.

Keeping your head down now would only serve as a drowning device.

"Hey," Hank barked your last name, "Come over here for a sec."

It was time to come up for air.

You stood. Locked eyes with him, and Connor – who watched you through slits.

That gust of breath was pulled from you like he was summoning it to be his own.

"What's up?" You choked, sitting next to Connor on a folded leg, the other anchored on the floor.

"We're off the fucking case…The FBI is taking over."

"What?" Your brows creased, and you planted a hand on the desk, "But we're on to something. We just need more time-"

"I've said it all, kid. And in Fowler's own words, 'This isn't just another investigation, it's a fucking civil war.'"

"He also said 'we're talking about national security.'" Connor huffed.

"I mean, he's not wrong. He has a point."

"Fuck that." Hank growled, "Can't just pull the plug on something like this. We've been doing good work with what we had…" He ran a hand through his beard, crossing his arms and looking at Connor hopelessly, "We're about to crack the case…I know we can solve it…"

"You heard what he said, Lieutenant…You're back on homicide, and 'the android returns to CyberLife…'"

It was the thing you'd been avoiding the most. The one truth you wanted to stay submerged under while it floated on the surface.

Connor's inevitable confiscation.

"Everybody is terrified their android will turn on them…"

"So you're going back to CyberLife…?" Hank asked what you didn't have the gall to.

His head turned, and his eyes flickered. To you, at you, around you – the constant tug and pull that came with having to work with him.

"I have no choice…"

But the room was crowded, and there wasn't a corner quiet enough for you to even grab him and slip away that would give either of you an ounce of privacy.

"I'll be…deactivated, and analyzed to find out why I failed…"

It'd been awhile since you heard him this defeated. Couldn't remember a time that compared, actually. You wanted to hug him. Kiss him. Give him your keys, savings, everything he needed and tell him to run.

A wish and a dream.

"When the deviants rise up? There will be chaos." His jaw hardened as he "cracked" his knuckles, tie slipping between his knees as he hunched over, "We could have stopped it…but now it's too late."

He closed his eyes, and gave the floor quick, tight headshakes.

"I might not be qualified to judge, but…You're an outstanding police officer…"

His forehead creased as his eyes rose from the floor, peering into the softened heart of Hank Anderson.

"…And a good person."

It was a final goodbye, of sorts. A last-ditch attempt to level with him and convey how he felt about his partner; a conversation you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to share with him.

"It was a privilege to work with you."

It was over.

Your throat closed. Your hands began to shake.

Not yet.

"We can't give up."

You choked it all down, and locked it up tight.

"We know the answer is in the evidence we collected." You jumped to your feet, turning to face them both, "Jericho is a people. A group. A faction. But it's also a place."

You leaned forward to look over Connor's shoulder, and he returned a solemn gaze with the tiniest spark hanging in the balance.

"You said you saw a rusted piece of metal when you went through Simon's memories, right? One that had Jericho on it?"

His brows pinched, and he nodded.

You looked to Hank, "And you remember that note from the statue? The folded-up piece of paper?"

"The subway map from the Ferndale District. What about it?"

"You think that was just a coincidence?"

"Doesn't really add up with anything else we found. Far as we know, that was just a rendezvous point."

"No, I think it was something more." You walked around his desk, and pointed at his screen, "Log in real quick."

He gave a doubtful look to Connor, and they exchanged a moment of understanding.

"Alright…" Hank sighed, "I'll bite."

You gave Connor your own look; tried to settle him down, and it earned you a crooked, soothed smile.

"What now?"

You returned to the terminal's attention, "Pull up Ferndale."

Hank went to the grid overview and typed in "Ferndale Station."

"No, not just the subway station. The whole thing."

"Ugh…" He zoomed out, giving you a clear view of the district, "Okay?"

Connor leaned in closer, sliding off the desk and standing on the other side of him, "That dock, right there…" He tapped the screen, "That's where the CyberLife warehouse robbery took place."

"And we never did find the truck they stole…" Hank put the side of his head on a fist, "I swear to god, if they've been right under our noses-"

"Look how close it is to the Stratford Tower…" You squinted, tracing the road to the dock near Ambassador Bridge, "That's what, maybe a 10-minute drive without traffic?"

"Okay, what are you two getting at?"

"'Jericho,' is actually located somewhere in the Ferndale District." Connor's eyes searched as the LED flashed next to them, "It must be close enough to the warehouse that they'd be able to hide an entire CyberLife cargo truck without being noticed. They disappeared shortly after the attack at the Stratford Tower, as well…"

His eyes popped open, and his mouth dropped, "Manifests from the port authority-"

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

The hairs on your neck stood straight. Your arms locked; one folded along the back of Hank's chair, the other balanced on the blunt edge of your palm anchored on plastic lining of his desk.

"Special Agent Perkins." Connor greeted him, and if you hadn't known any better, he genuinely sounded happy, "A pleasure running into you again."

"Cut the bullshit, fuckin' android."

At that, you looked up…

And your heart dropped.

Chris and Gavin were behind him…both staring at the floor with their arms crossed, kicking invisible rocks and fidgeting like crazy.

But the three of them were reduced to blurs of toxic tension and anxious blobs as you focused on Captain Fowler at his desk with his face in his palms.

"I need to speak with you." Your chin snapped forward, eyes meeting the short man who still stood like he was 10 feet tall, "Privately."

"The fuck is this?" Hank shot up from his seat, "And what the fuck are you going on about?"

"Easy, Lieutenant." Perkins gave him one of those half-cocked grins under briefly squinted eyes, "This doesn't have to get messy."

Hank grumbled under his breath, switching between you, Perkins, and the distraught men behind him.

"You two need to mind your own business and get back to work."

"They're with me." Perkins licked his teeth, "Isn't that right, boys?"

Chris sniffed, and his hands dug deeper under his armpits as he tensed. Gavin pushed his jacket up, shifting his weight when he looked to the side and hooked his thumbs in his beltloops.

"Detective Reed, Officer Miller, would you kindly escort your…peer, to the interrogation room?"

Your heart throbbed in your neck. You took a step back, a small whimper slipping through before you snapped your teeth shut.

He caught you…

He caught, you.

"What?"

"Nothin,' that's what." Hank barred your chest with his arm, pushing you into Connor who caught you with a stumble.

He then cupped his hand around his mouth, "FOWLER!"

But the Captain's head just sank lower, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

Hank watched in disbelief, like his world was shattering to pieces…and Connor's fingers dug in your biceps, causing you to bite your tongue.

"C'mon…" Gavin muttered, holding out a hand, "The quicker this is over, the sooner I can buy you a drink, alright?"

"She doesn't need a drink, Reed." Chris snapped, "She needs a goddamn lawyer."

Gavin swallowed hard, shooting him a glare from the corner of his eye, "I'm aware."

There was something about the way he said it that was comforting. Something about the way he looked at you like there was more up his sleeve.

Gavin Reed wasn't one you'd necessarily trust with your life, but he wasn't ever a person you'd want on your bad side, either.

The man functioned on a pure pack mentality, and lucky for you, the two of you wore the same crest.

"It's gonna be okay." He gave you a nod, "I've got your back."

So you took his hand. Stood strong when he slapped your shoulder, and appreciated him when he waved the gawking eyes of your co-workers away with hoarse insults and unfriendly gestures.

And Chris, well…He walked beside you without a word.

"Where are you…" Collins stopped as he rounded the corner; a folder in one hand, and an opened bottle of water in another, "Where are you three going?"

"Don't worry about it, Ben." Gavin let out a snickered laugh, and tapped the bottle upwards as his equal took a sip, "Got somethin' on your shirt."

Collins coughed, choking on water and holding his hands out as a small stream ran down his chin and dripped on his linen button-up.

"Have I ever told you how obnoxious you are?"

"Ye-up."

"PERKINS!"

The bellowing declaration came from Hank, who was marching towards the man following in your every waking footsteps.

"No, Hank!" Connor reached out, and he shrugged him off.

"You FUCKING COCKSUCKER!"

You didn't expect this level of retaliation, this mode of pushback. But Hank's fist demolished Perkins' nose, paving the way for a bloody trickle.

There was a soft crack, a muffled cry of pain, and a loud thud as the FBI Agent was pinned against the wall.

"Stop it, Lieutenant!" Chris took off, pulling at Hank's arm, "No, Connor, stay outta this-"

He held a hand out, and Connor backstepped. He chewed the inside of his cheek, no longer standing in the perfect posture he'd trained himself to maintain after going deviant.

"Hank-" You lunged forward, but Gavin caught you by the crook of your elbows.

"Uh-uh, no way, you've got yourself in enough…trouble- goddamn it stop squirming-"

"FUCK OFF!" Hank shoved Chris to the side, and Ben replaced him, "Leave me alone! Give me another shot at that little prick!"

Perkins buckled over, patting his nose with the end of his tie, "He's totally lost it…"

"HEY!" Fowler called from the balcony in front of his door, "ENOUGH!"

"Oh, now you wanna talk?!" Hank shouted, being dragged away by Ben and Chris, "TOO LATE, JEFFERY!"

"Come on, Hank, relax-" Ben grunted as he lost control of one of Hank's arms, and Chris took an elbow to the stomach.

Perkins sniffed, and coughed up a red ball of spit. He pointed his finger like he was ordering an airstrike, "That's gonna cost you your badge, you lunatic!"

"You know where you can stick my fuckin' badge!" Hank grabbed him by the high collars of his trench coat, tossing him on the floor like a ragdoll.

"Hank, STOP!" You yelled, fighting off Gavin as he dragged you backwards.

"You stop!" Gavin pulled you so that you were in front of him, and he shoved you towards the interrogation room.

He pointed at the door, "Get your fuckin' ass in there and don't make me tell you again!"

You leaned around him.

"HEY!"

He shoved your shoulder again, but you wouldn't move.

Ben had finally got Hank under control, herding him towards the officer's entrance. He stayed with him even after Hank pushed the doors open violently, and they disappeared outside – leaving a trail of angry curses under furious growls…

And Chris was stuck helping the toppled FBI Agent off the floor.

"I'm gonna bury that bastard!" Perkins touched his face, wincing, "Shit, I think he broke my nose…"

"Good. It'll look better." Gavin grunted.

"Is that what you told yourself when the Bandits sliced yours up, lover boy?"

"The fuck did you just say to me you weasel-looking prick-"

"REED!" Fowler shouted, "GET your ass, and her ass, into that room, NOW."

He slammed the door behind him, and picked up his phone to answer a call.

Gavin paused, and you mimicked him.

"He did." Connor's fists were balled at his sides, "Diagnostics indicate that Lieutenant Anderson did indeed inflict a nasal fracture."

"Weren't you supposed to go get crushed into a cube of scrap? What's the hold-up?" He spit at the floor near Connor's shoes, wiping his mouth, "You think you're gonna save your little girlfriend? Hm? Is that it?"

Perkins rolled his shoulder out of Chris's helpful grasp, making himself tall and getting in Connor's face, "I'm going to get what I need out of her…"

He grabbed Connor's jacket. Pulled him down to his eyelevel. Didn't even falter when Connor returned a gaze twice as fierce as he had during his own interrogations…

"And you're going to watch, knowing this is all your fault."

He squeezed until his knuckles turned white. Pushed Connor away, and he fixed his tie in response with that deadly stare locked and loaded.

You and Chris exchanged worried glances, but directed them back to the clusterfuck that had every officer in Central Station standing on full alert, their pointed stares drilling into the Special Agent that didn't belong there.

"He won't be the only one sitting in." Gavin scoffed.

"No, he won't be."

Captain Allen gently brushed the bystanders aside as he stepped into the ring, unsnapping the microphone from the side of his face and rolling up the cuffs on his sleeves.

"Perkins."

"…Allen."

"How's your nose feeling?"

Perkins sucked in a nasally sniff, digging into his sinuses, "Just fine."

"Doesn't sound like it."

"He hit harder than when you broke it, Diamond Dog."

Allen flinched, and his lips curled back in a snarl, "If that's a challenge, I'll gladly accept."

"Down, boy." Perkins snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, "I've got an interrogation to run."

He popped his collar, pulling a crumpled receipt from his pocket. Held it to his nose, and shifted his sleep-deprived eyes to yours. Walked to your side, and stopped.

"When it's just you and me, on the other side of that glass…and you're regretting everything you've done with your life? Just remember…"

He threw his head up, sighing with a smile on his face as he held his makeshift tissue in place.

"I warned you."

He made it sound as if he'd done you some grand favor. Had given you a chance to prepare, to run, and you'd ungraciously declined.

"Let's go, partner…" Chris patted your shoulder, "I'll be with you every step of the way."

You had him, Gavin, and Captain Allen in your corner…but you doubted it would be enough.

Judging by the look on Connor's face; your eyes staying connected with his as your neck and the rest of your body began to turn…He doubted it, too.

It was your eleventh hour.

Your last chance…

And the death march into the interrogation room commenced.


Behind the Scenes

(Links on AO3)


Pack Mentality (Herd Behavior)

The Eleventh Hour

Death March


A/N: I SERIOUSLY can't wait for this holiday season to be over. It's my last one in retail, and UGH it can't come fast enough. Love you ;o will do my best to keep the updates coming without collapsing a lung, and thank you for all your supportive comments. :)


Guest Review Responses

Guest: The fact that you enjoyed it makes it all worth it, and thank you for the get well wishes. :D

Jaz: SERIOUSLY fuck Perkins.