That was Gavin's life for the next two months solid. Work-home-eat-sleep-work-home-eat-sleep. Occasionally, he got a day off and spent most of it sleeping. He did manage to clean up a little, but never got on top of things completely, and the next big case to come along would knock it all down again. He wasn't sure who was the first to notice. Chris, Tina, Hank, Connor, maybe even Fowler himself, but someone must have seen him struggling. He knew that because at the end of the second month, the worst thing happened.

He got a partner. Not just any partner, but a fucking android partner. Worse! It was an android with Connor's face! That probably wasn't fair. Nines had a heavier jawline and a mean frown, and the most eye-catching silvery blue eyes he'd ever seen. He was built like a tank, and the sharp cut of his Cyberlife uniform accentuated that. His hair, though in the same style, was actually a touch darker than Connor's. His voice was different too, deep and rich. The disturbing thing was the freckles and moles. He wasn't sure when he first noticed, but when he did, it creeped him out. Connor and Nines had exactly the same pattern across their pale skin, and the same dimples set in their cheeks.

At first, he'd hated it. He'd done everything he could to push him away, hoping he'd demand a transfer. He hadn't counted on Nines' patience. Nines took all the shit he threw at him. He still didn't know why. Eventually, he'd just accepted his presence, and that's how the next sixth months had passed. They'd gotten closer. They were sort of friends. He didn't hate it when Nines was with him, and he didn't hate working with him. They even ate lunch together on the rare days he got it. Well, he ate while Nines drank thirium or watched. It was often Nines who brought it up, gently reminding him how long it had been since his last meal. Sometimes that would make him stop. Sometimes he was too busy to care.

Unfortunately, Nines did care. He cared way too fucking much. More than he wanted him to. More than he deserved. Nines noticed things that many others didn't. He knew when he'd forgotten to eat for a day. He knew when he hadn't slept. He knew when he was dehydrated or strung out on caffeine, and he knew when he was close to dropping from exhaustion. That was when he'd take control, usually taking him to the infirmary and forcing him to lie down or having Tina or Chris drop him home on their rounds. He'd been lucky so far to keep Nines away from his apartment, hiding how badly he was really coping.

It didn't stay that way. It was the end of a big case. A triple homicide they'd been working on non-stop for five weeks. He'd barely taken a single day off in that time, volunteering to come in on overtime and working long into the night. They'd finally closed the case. They had their guys in custody, along with all the evidence they needed. It was a done deal. As soon as the reports were done, it would be handed over to the courts and he could finally rest. It was likely for this reason that Nines allowed him to write the reports in peace before making his move. As soon as he'd hit send, at almost one thirty in the morning, after a fourteen hour shift, Nines pounced.

"I'll drive you home." It wasn't a question. Hitting send seemed to symbolise the end to his brain functioning as well. As soon as he sat back, a bone deep exhaustion set in. His eyes felt heavier than they had in weeks as he finally gave himself permission to rest. "Gavin…" He almost jumped out of his skin as a gentle hand shook his shoulder. His tired eyes blinked open. He didn't remember closing them. He squinted up at Nines, barely making him out through the blur in his sleepy vision. "Come…come with me…" He barely grumbled as those gentle hands pulled him to his feet. He stumbled, quickly finding a strong arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

Nines continued his gentle coaxing as he walked him to the car. He didn't drive himself, so he pulled the keys from Gavin's leather jacket and unlocked the door. It was almost endearing, the way Gavin leaned into his side with all the trust in the world. A few months ago, he'd thought it would never happen. He was pleased now that he'd listened to Hank when he'd pleaded for him to be patient. He'd insisted there was something softer underneath that angry exterior. A young man afraid of rejection and used to being abandoned. He'd claimed they would make an excellent team, that they were each what the other needed. Hank was right. Gavin was the experience and humanity in their partnership, leading by emotion and instinct. He was the analytical and scientific side, having superior knowledge, but lacking the skills to use it appropriately.

Many others thought Gavin ill-tempered and foolish. Though he did have a temper, he was far from a fool. He was an excellent detective. It had surprised him after hearing about him from Connor and seeing how others avoided him. Gavin had worked alone for a long time because no one else would work with him, but in truth, he didn't need a partner. His record spoke for itself. He'd closed cases consistently for years, often with above average results, and he did so quietly. Nines had never heard him brag to anyone about his closure rate. He rarely even spoke to others, besides Tina and Chris. He knew them on a social level and rarely opened up about cases with them.

Nines puzzled over Gavin as he drove. He didn't understand why he'd insisted on isolating himself for so long. He was a good and loyal partner. His lips softened at the thought that perhaps fate had played a role in it. Perhaps part of him had always known that he would come along, and he'd isolated himself in order to be free upon his arrival. Such thoughts were nonsense, of course. There was no way Gavin could have predicted his existence, and there was a time he would have rejected him simply for being an android. He chanced a glance and found him sleeping soundly, head resting against the window. He was exhausted. Truly exhausted.

He'd noticed, of course. It was impossible not to. Five weeks ago, he'd been peppy and full of energy, tearing this way and that in search of clues and witnesses. Over time, that energy level had dipped and petered out. The circles under his eyes had grown. The tan of his skin had paled. He'd lost weight as his diet deteriorated. His cigarette intake had increased. His caffeine intake had gone off the charts. He'd started to neglect himself. It was almost abusive. He'd worked some days on as little as an hour of sleep. He'd missed meals consecutively, making up for the loss in cigarettes to stave off hunger. Nines and done what he could, but he couldn't force him to take care of himself.

He pulled up outside Gavin's apartment block and shook his shoulder. He roused, just barely, almost dead to the world as he let out a wordless mumble and opened the door. Nines followed quickly, taking his elbow and guiding him out of the road. Since he was dead on his feet, he had little choice but to see him to the door. He lived on the fifth floor of the dilapidated block. Nines hadn't been there before, but he knew the address from Gavin's records. He accepted the weight as Gavin leaned on him, letting him take control and guide him up the winding stairs. When they reached the door, Nines unlocked it and let him slip inside. He followed on impulse, thinking it best to make sure he made it to bed.

He watched silently as Gavin leaned on the back of the sofa, holding himself on both arms for a few moments before reaching up to pull his zipper. The leather fell from his shoulders with a dull thud. He hadn't removed his phone or wallet from the pockets. He almost seemed to work on autopilot as he stumbled into the small kitchenette. The room remained dark as he circled the counter, leaving the light off. Nines didn't want to hurt his eyes by turning it on. He could smell decay in the air as he breathed in. Rot and filth. He moved silently as he approached the breakfast bar, wincing at the careless clatter Gavin made as he searched the lower cupboards. He heard a tin opening and watched as Gavin then rummaged in the sink, barely awake.

He stood in silence, LED spinning yellow as he watched Gavin rinse a fork and start eating in an almost disassociated state. He didn't use a bowl or heat the food. Nines scanned the large tin, lips thinning as he found it to be a tin of spaghetti in tomato sauce. Acceptable as a light snack perhaps, but not a replacement for a proper meal. The sauce contained a high salt and sugar content, and few useful nutrients. Gavin remained unfocused and trancelike as he slurped cold spaghetti from his fork. Nines couldn't help giving a look of distaste as Gavin finally finished and drank the remaining sauce. He dropped the fork and tin in the sink and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before leaving.

Nines followed as he stumbled to his room like a lumbering ghoul, wincing as he caught his shoulder on the doorframe with a painful thud. He didn't even seem to notice. The strike unbalanced him somewhat, making him stumble as he headed for the unmade bed. He was already sleeping by the time he fell face down on the mattress. Nines only hesitated a moment before crossing the room and removing his shoes. He was dead to the world, not stirring once as Nines worked. Since he was so unresponsive, Nines went further.

He was gentle as he turned him on his back and gathered him up. He lifted him briefly, nudging the duvet out of the way to replace him comfortably with his head on the pillow. Once he was settled, he snagged the duvet and shook it out, pulling it over his body. He was surprised as Gavin subconsciously turned on his side and nuzzled his face further into the pillow. His chest whirred softly at the sight, a small smile teasing his lips. He leaned over him, gently tucking the duvet around his shoulders for warmth and running his fingers through his hair. He remained there awhile, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest and measuring his vitals. His body was fatigued and slightly malnourished, but within acceptable parameters. He huffed softly as Gavin grumbled in his sleep, leaning closer to leave a single press of lips on his temple.

"Sleep well, Gavin." He didn't hear, of course. He was dead to the world. Nines sighed as he returned to the living room and closed the door. He was almost afraid to turn the light on. If the smell was anything to go by, Gavin's living conditions were less the pleasant. He was correct. Turning the light on revealed a trail of debris and destruction. Filth that had built up over many months. He estimated it had been a minimum of three since the living room had been vacuumed. Dust and filth had almost formed a second layer. It was a good thing Gavin didn't have asthma. The coffee table was littered with sticky rings from old mugs, cans, and bottles, some of which were still there. A week old beer had been knocked over and left to form a second skin on the glass surface.

Books and papers had been left strewn across the sofa and floor, an excellent hiding place for unwanted guests. Luckily, the apartment hadn't been infested yet. Nines' LED span red as he turned his attention away from the clutter in the living room to the festering filth in the kitchen. Pizza boxes with curling crusts, half-finished boxes of curry and old Chinese food, chewed up ribs, and half eaten chips. Old tins with gunk dried to the inside, many with utensils left inside. More bottles and cans. An overflowing ashtray. The sink was piled high with what seemed like every plate and bowl he owned, along with all the cutlery. His pans were all used, piled up beside the sink, along with rows of glasses and mugs. Crumbs and stains littered the floor and counters. He didn't understand. How does he live like this?

He returned to the bedroom to find clothes strewn all over. Gavin didn't even notice the light as Nines crossed to the bathroom. It was as bad as the rest of the apartment. Green gunk circled the plugs, and limescale infested the taps. The floor and tiles were grimy and hadn't been cleaned in months. The sink had a thick layer of toothpaste stains that varied in age. At least he was brushing regularly. The face flannel hadn't been changed in over a month, nor had the towels. The glass of the shower was water stained, and the bathtub had an almost grey layer of dried scuzz halfway up where the waterline sat. His LED span red again as he looked inside the filthy toilet. The cleanest thing in the room was the toilet brush!

How did Gavin live like this? Why did he come back here every day and accept this as the norm? How was he still alive? Why wasn't he sick? He was surprised he hadn't been hospitalised for severe food poisoning! He had taken a fork from the sink, that filthy sink of decaying leftovers, rinsed it, and eaten with it! The fact he'd done so on autopilot suggested this was a regular occurrence. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense. Why wouldn't he turn up to work so moodily when he came from such a cesspit? Why wouldn't he stay at his desk hours after his shift when this is what he had to return to? Why wouldn't he come to work hungry when making food meant touching the filth in the kitchen? It was disgusting! It was unacceptable! It would not be tolerated! Nines paused, LED spinning yellow as he formulated a plan of attack. It was almost three in the morning. Gavin would likely sleep until midday if left undisturbed. That gave him a few hours to get on top of things.

The first thing he did was check for supplies. He was surprised to find that Gavin was well stocked in that regard, though from the lack of cleanliness, perhaps he shouldn't have been. He also checked the fridge. Gavin would be hungry and in dire need of sustenance when he woke. He was delighted to find the fridge in excellent condition. Unfortunately, it was also empty. His LED span yellow as he made an internal shopping list. He would get the kitchen in workable condition first, and bag up the sizable amount of trash to take out when he went shopping. As he worked, he started trying to work out how to broach the subject with Gavin later. They had much to discuss.