|*| Candles |*|

He hates when his optics malfunction…

"Has anyone got that damn generator working‽" Captain Fowler's voice cuts through the darkness and he wishes the man would keep shouting, if only to stave off the chill running through his wires.

"It's busted, sir!" Officer Chen returns the shout. Footstep pattern indicates she's running closer. "Maintenance was contacted yesterday but until then we've got to suffer through."

"We can't. We're a police station!" A tense pause. "Route all incoming calls through the androids. The patrol ones anyway. Got a fiasco goin' on with the RK unit over here."

"Yes, sir." Footsteps shuffle. "Erica! Johnathan!" Voice quieter. She must have moved. "With me!" A lot of footsteps follow with two voices affirming their actions. Then they fade into the distance.

He's left to the haunting, silent dark once more. Reaching for his lighter only goes so far as he cannot see the flame. What good will it do him? Feeling it in his hands is not enough. With a click familiar dubstep music fills his audial receptors, blasting hard and loud, but never to be heard outside his mind. Still not enough. It can't remove the dark.

"You supposed to be vibrating?" Oh! That's Gavin's voice!

"No, detective." He shuts off the music and thus stops shaking.

"Good. Androids can see in the dark, right? My phone's dead. Need your help finding my spare battery."

"Unfortunately I cannot help you." The silence leads him to assume Gavin is gesturing in an expectant way. But the dark is taking hold. He can't keep the quaver out of his voice when he continues, "I'm… currently unable to see…"

A deep sigh. "Fuck. You break at the worst times, you know that?"

"That's… what comes of brain damage…"

"You're hilarious."

"Why not ask Heather?" She'll be the only android unoccupied. Why hadn't Gavin gone to her first?

A chair scoots along the floor. Footsteps start and fade. He can only assume Gavin has done as he suggested. He's alone once more. Alone in the dark. Like the warehouse. Error messages. Bleeding out. Black. Red. Liquid blue.

Arms wrap around in a cheap imitation of a hug. It's not Connor. It's not working. Scoot up against the wall? More surface covered? Still not helping. Music then. Bring back the music. Turn it up, up, up.

Still not helping.

Focus on the errors? On the red? Anything to escape the dark.

Play that memory, the one of Amanda, over and over again. Anything to escape the dark.

Still not helping.

It burns. He's bleeding out. Lying on the floor, thirium dripping from his head as his vision goes dark and all he sees is black, red, and liquid blue.

It burns.

It's pitch dark.

He's dying.

It burns.

It's pitch dark.

He's dying.

It burns.

It's pitch dark.

He's—

"Why the fuck are you hiding under your desk?" Gavin?

"Are you okay? You're shaking!" Heather?

"I am…" Lie? There's no point. They've seen. His dignity can't be saved. "Not functioning well."

"No shit, Toaster."

"What happened?" Heather sounds concerned. That's nice.

"He's fucking blind that's what." Gavin comments.

"Don't be rude." Heather snips. "You're shaking. Are you scared? Of what?" Oh. Those questions must be directed at him.

"Malfunctioning. I'm malfunctioning."

"Told you." Gavin snips back. "It's cause he's fuckin' blind. Never thought you a scaredy-cat, Toaster."

"I'm not… I can't… It's dark…" He can't think straight. It's dark. It's dark. It's dark.

"Hey!" His head is jerked to the side. Scrambled data triggers pain. Did Gavin just smack him? "Don't go senile on me you plastic prick! Focus!"

He can't focus. Every time there's no distraction the void threatens to consume him. It's dark. It's dark. It's dark.

Suddenly a hand in his. Smooth skin. Small fingers. Heather? She squeezes, a gesture to confirm her presence. "It's okay. Breathe with me. In, and out. In, and out. Please try. Like this. In—"

He mimics her. In and out. Slow down your ventilation. Don't destroy yourself. In and out. In the corner of his HUD stress levels start to fall. It's working. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Please keep breathing like that. It will help, I promise."

"You're not the only one here in the dark." Gavin's comment is followed by arms under his, to which he helps by attempting to stand up. Rough hands then grab his shoulders and clumsily maneuver him into his chair. There is a crash after that and a light laugh. Heather's. He suspects Gavin to have fallen over in the attempt to help. He cracks a smile, likely only for Heather's eyes.

He's fine. she sends cybernetically. I'm glad he came to get me.

He went to you because you can be his flashlight. Not because he cared. Unfortunately. He knows his taste in friends is shit.

Actually he said he didn't know what to do with a glitchy android and asked for help. He's pretty skilled with components but not processor problems. I think he does care. He's just very rude most of the time if you're not Tina.

Good assessment. Thank you. A surprise, but a welcome one to be sure.

You've stopped shaking. Feeling better?

Oh. He must have turned off the music at some point. Somewhat.

That's better than a no.

"Hey Toaster, why'd you go blind? I might be able to take a stab at fixing your eyes." In the dark, Gavin? That sounds horrifying. "I mean not now cause I can't fuckin' see either but later. If you want."

"I told you. Brain damage. My central processor took a bullet."

"Oh. right. You're probably just fucked then."

"Detective!" Heather sounds affronted on his behalf. This is rather amusing. "We have to be optimistic!"

"No he's right." he says in what he thinks is Heather's general direction. "I'm fucked."

"See‽" Oh, Gavin.

"But I'm dealing with it." he finishes. "How long will this storm last?"

A pause.

"Detective, he can't see you shrug." A quiet sigh. "I'll try to find some flashlights and thermal blankets. Please stay with him." Heather's footsteps start and fade out.

"Your offer is appreciated," he assures Gavin. "Regardless of its actual feasibility."

"Well thanks. Always wanted to be appreciated by a talking toaster."

That brings forth a snicker as he adjusts himself in his chair, aiming to feel something familiar.

Familiar footsteps return and the tell-tale crinkle of a thermal blanket is heard. Presumably for Gavin as the humans are in more danger from the cold. Confirmed when the man utters a quiet, "Thanks."

Then something cylindrical is deposited in his lap. Picking it up and feeling it reveals a flashlight. He clicks it on, ignores the exclamations indicative of having shined it in his coworkers' eyes, and aims the large end toward himself. And waits.

If he waits long enough he'll begin to see a light in the dark. That's how he'll know this nightmare is ending.

But if he's honest he's already had two lights break through the darkness. If Connor were here shared memories and/or data would be enough. He's not close enough for Heather to try that and Gavin simply can't. Despite that they have both done so much to distract him, to keep the void from drowning all he is in black, red, and liquid blue as his mind burns away.

They've kept that from him.

They've been lighthouses, guiding him out of the dark.

And there's the golden light breaking through. "I think my vision is returning."

"Fucking finally!" Gavin exclaims. "That mean I can have the flashlight? I still can't see shit."

"Patience, detective." Heather reprimands. "He'll hand it over when he's ready."

"Fine…"

When the last of the darkness ebbs away he aims the flashlight at the floor. It's enough to shine on the space around him, revealing a gently smiling Heather standing before him and beside her a smirking Gavin curled up in a thermal blanket in a chair he must have wheeled over. "Thank you, both."

"You're welcome!"

"You owe me one."

He certainly does. There are many things to drive away an encroaching void; lighthouses, flashlights, candles, etc. What you use doesn't matter. Only that you use it.

That's what they've provided for him;

Lights in the dark.