(·:·) Bells (·:·)
"Get down!"
"Toss him the gun! He's got better aim!"
"How in the fuck did they get in‽"
.
All he remembers is clips of conversations among the chaos. His entire system had been glitching so the memory archive is no good. Too many bits with corrupted or no visuals, same for audio, and sometimes both. A group of anti-android nutjobs had somehow gotten weapons into the station. Central Station has been severely understaffed since the evacuation in November. What little force remained had hidden in the interrogation rooms or behind whatever desks they could find while the mess was solved.
.
"That's the one from TV!"
"I said stay down!"
"Lieutenant, your weapon please."
"I said hand him the gun!"
.
Was it him or Connor who had taken the shot? Both of them? Where had the gun gone? He'd been hit in return. He knows that much. It's the only explanation for the incessant ringing. He's prone to glitches but of the audial kind it's always been static. Tinnitus is new and he needs it to stop. It's interfering with his recall.
.
"There's two of 'em‽"
"Move you idiot!"
"Holy shit!"
"Are you damaged?"
.
It's all registering in bits and pieces, errors and corruption in-between. And that damn ringing. Whatever happened he can tell he's currently on the floor behind Officer Chen's desk with a tense Erica who is attempting to remain still enough that the collection of keychains on her belt doesn't jingle. He won't judge deviants their strange habits but this is not the best time for that particular one.
Across the bullpen using the filing cabinets as cover Johnathan, calm as ever, peeks out, then glances back at Erica. A cybernetic communique to both of them; Do you have access to a gun?
No not really. Erica quickly replies.
His answer is just a terse, No.
Androids aren't allowed guns. The three of them, no four, Connor is here somewhere, are shit out of luck. Unless Connor has the one he'd used earlier. If that had been Connor at all. It's all a mess...
That's all that makes sense until a familiar bang and a scream echo through the station. Red stains the floor of the bullpen. Dark jeans rush past, parkour over another desk, and a gun goes skittering across the floor. The next shot is followed by a familiar, "Fuck off you assholes!" and the next intruder goes down. Both in the knees. Non-lethal force. Again the gun goes skittering across the floor.
Johnathan looks back at Erica. Stands up to provide a distraction. She slides back under the desk and shoves the gun in his hands. Something about better aim? Already difficult to hear. The ringing isn't helping. The second Johnathan dives back behind the cabinets he stands up, aims, and fires. Or hopes he does. He can't hear the gun go off, just that damn ringing getting louder.
.
"Got 'em all!"
"Fucking finally!"
"It's safe now?"
"Who the hell gave the androids a gun‽"
"It got the job done."
"How did they get in?"
"Not the problem."
"Can you hear me?"
.
That last voice clip is repeated twice. Are they referring to him? He turns to the source, or who he hopes is the source, and shakes his head. No, he can only hear in pieces loud enough to overcome the piercing ring. "My head seems to be stuck in 'bell' mode." he snarks, looking around the room. "I don't want to know. Not until I stop glitching." He shuffles through the bullpen, stepping around the injured intruders, and returns to his desk as if nothing had happened. And his vision resumes cutting out in time with the ringing.
.
"Connor took the shot?"
"Both of them—"
"—heard Gavin shout—"
"They're okay, right?"
"—he dead?"
"—fuckin' kneecapped—"
"I'll go check on—"
.
A somewhat familiar presence stops beside his desk. The PC200, Johnathan. "Your aim is excellent."
"Thanks." He tries to focus on his terminal. Still too chaotic.
"While this mess is dealt with the Captain wishes to speak with you, Connor, and Detective Reed." And then he's gone back to charging station seven. Others have joked that Johnathan is less deviant than him. It's certainly possible. Not the point.
With a sigh and a hand on his desk to steady him when his vision cuts out he makes his way up the steps to Captain Fowler's office. Connor and Gavin are already inside. The Captain standing behind his desk seems conflicted. "I'll deal with the negatives first. Who gave the androids a gun? You all know the laws."
"Captain," Connor starts to explain. "certain situations would be better handled if we were armed like human officers, and Markus is attempting to get the laws changed."
"That doesn't answer my question, Connor. I put my ass on the line to have you and your brother working here at all. I can't afford any more slip-ups. Where did you get the gun?"
Connor frowns and shifts his gaze to the floor. "It was Lieu—"
"I gave it to him." Gavin interrupts.
Everyone in the room turns to him in surprise.
He just shrugs. "What? He's got killer aim and it was a straight shot to slide it over to him."
Why is Gavin lying for Connor? In this case that includes covering for Lieutenant Anderson. What gives? Captain Fowler seems just as suspicious when he asks, "If it was your gun why not shoot first? Why give it to Connor at all?"
"I don't wanna get investigated for murder. He was at a better angle for kneecapping the bastard. Then his partner got in the fucking way and I had the best shot so he gave it back."
Partially true. Gavin had been the second to fire at the intruders after Connor parkoured across the bullpen. But again, why lie to save face for people he doesn't care about? Hard to think. Too much ringing. It drowns out the rest of the discussion until he's brought into the mix, and even then he only catches part of it.
A part he needs to lie about as well. Erica only handled the weapon enough to get it to him. Still technically illegal. A month ago he wouldn't have bothered. Today? Erica remained after the revolution. Dedicated herself to her job. He can respect that. "Seven and Five provided a distraction," He knows the Captain hasn't bothered to remember Johnathan and Erica's names, only their charging stations. "While Connor got the weapon to me."
"And why?"
"I can't say, sir. I sustained damage in the scuffle and my memory is one of many glitching components at the moment."
A deep sigh that his audial processors shift into an awful screech and he reaches up to claw at his right ear, attempting to rip the processor out. He'd rather be temporarily deaf than have a constant ringing mutilating various sounds into painful data.
He can vaguely hear the Captain telling them something about being proud of them all regardless of the messy situation, but what he registers most is Connor removing his hand from his ear and giving a gentle push in that spot instead. With a click the piercing ring stops. What did you do?
The chip had been dislodged when you were thrown back against the desk. Is everything alright now?
Yes. Thank you.
He thinks they were all ushered out of the Captain's office but he doesn't remember it happening. Hopefully this is a temporary problem. He'll call Jonah later to ask about it. Until then it seems he can return to work.
Or not. Gavin stops them in the middle of the bullpen by yanking their jackets back. "Hold up. You plastic pricks owe me. Anderson too."
Connor offers a weak smile as he easily wrenches free of Gavin's grip. "Of course, Detective Reed. I'm sure we can come to an agreement. I'll let Lieutenant Anderson know." And off he goes.
"Perhaps I can settle my debt tomorrow?" he asks once Connor is busy with the Lieutenant.
Gavin gives him an odd look.
"The arcade." he elaborates. "You agreed."
"Oh shit I forgot. Yeah sure, I guess that'll work. I'm gonna kick your ass anyway." A pause before returning to their desks. "Who cleared the assholes out? And where's Tina?"
"Perhaps those two questions are linked?"
A pissed off shout as Officer Chen can be seen down the hall dragging one of the injured intruders toward an interrogation room. The more he struggles the more shit she gives him. No doubt someone else is calling a hospital for the gunshot wounds. Until then she'll have one hell of a day.
They all have actually. He wouldn't mind more action like this. Despite his program troubles he was built for both investigation and combat and there has been a severe lack of the latter. This was invigorating. Except for getting his head treated like a damn bell. He'll be sure to run more pre-constructions from now on, even if his memory is compromised.
Aside from that however,
He returns to his desk with a smile.
That was fun.