Chapter Text
The first thing Gavin noticed when he woke up, was the dull, pulsing pain in his head. The second thing, following quickly after, was his hands, zip-tied to a solid metal chair. "Fuck," he seethed through his teeth, jaw most definitely bruised, along with his eye, and the bump on his temple. "Fuck."
"Once more with feeling, I see." A gleeful voice came from behind him and Gavin tensed when he felt a cold hand slide over his neck.
He knew the voice, the British accent. Right. Act. Letting out a confused sound, he turned his head left and right, frantically. "Robin? Robin, is that you? What's happening?" His voice took on a well practised panicked edge, but the hand on his neck only tightened in answer.
"You can drop the act, Detective Gavin Reed." The glee in the voice was gone, coldness all he heard now. That and fury. The familiar redhead came into his view, and Gavin tried hard not to slip up.
He blinked up at him, eyes wide. "Who? I don't understand, I-" The words were ripped from him with a solid punch square across his cheek. "Fuck!"
"I told you to drop the act, did I not?" Robin Crave grabbed his throbbing jaw between strong fingers, tilting his head up. His other hand swiped his hair out of his forehead and gathered it into his fist, high on his head. "Now." A forced calm fell over the man, and he smiled, wide and manic. "Why don't we try again?" Feeling blood in his mouth, Gavin did drop his act, choosing to gather it up and spit it right into Crave's face. His eyes narrowed when the man only let out a loud laugh. "That's more like it!" With a yank, he pushed Gavin's head to the side and followed it up with another solid punch.
Gavin tried to roll with the hit, managing a little in his restricted position. He let his breath out through his nose, spitting more blood onto the floor. "What gave me away?" He finally asked, back to his own voice, deeper, less jumpy.
Crave hummed as he made his way to a duffel bag in the corner of the simple room. "Nothing you did, my dear. You've been quite the fine actor."
"Yes, well, if not for my cop dad, I'm sure I would have been an amazing performer." The detective rolled his eyes, subtly checking out the room at the same time. No windows, one door, metal, no doubt locked. The chair he was sitting on, a light bulb not quite above him, shining right into his eyes. Basement. Crave and his duffel bag, a locker in the corner. That was it. Not really good options. Another hum and Robin stood, something glinting on his fingers. "Brass knuckles?" A chuckle escaped Gavin, and at the same time, his stomach tightened. "How old fashioned."
"Old fashioned, perhaps." Crave grinned. "But that's just the start, love." He stroked a finger almost lovingly over the bronze metal. "Just the start."
---
And oh it was just the start.
Four months undercover had prepared him for potential slip-ups. The Crave family was one of the most notorious crime families in all of Detroit, best known for their deep roots in Red Ice distribution. Theoretically, he knew they were tough. Theoretically, he also knew Robin Crave was their prefered… interrogator.
Practically though. Practically, he knew that Robin was… funny. That he was goofy. That he had four dogs, all named after the Ninja Turtles and a cat named Splinter. That he made the best Spaghetti Bolognese Gavin had ever tasted. That he… flirted. With Gavin. A lot.
And it wasn’t like Gavin had gone too deep. He had been under no delusion about his assignment, had taken the necessary steps to stay as clear-headed as possible. Had been under Hank’s constant watch, had to report to him each day and spent time at the precinct.
But being on the literal receiving end of this family’s wrath… well, maybe he hadn’t been quite as prepared, as he had hoped.
And he still didn’t know what had given him away!
Left alone, after a solid hour of beating, Gavin just breathed slowly and deeply. He spat more blood onto the floor, stomach twisting with the taste of it. His head was spinning, but he was gradually cataloguing his injuries to keep it clear. A couple of broken fingers, broken nose, four bruised ribs, one probably broken, swollen eye. Destroyed ego, really. Though he hadn't cracked, hadn't even stopped mouthing off, he hadn't quite managed to keep all the pained sounds at bay. He needed to form a plan. Crave hadn't told him what had compromised his identity, so he didn't really have anyone to blame. But that also meant that he couldn't be sure that anyone at the DPD knew; that anyone was looking for him. He needed to get out. He needed- God, but his head hurt. He needed to- He needed-
---
He woke up to ice-cold water, that took the breath right out of his lung. Disoriented and freezing, he blinked up at the two people in the room. "Rise and shine, love. Time for a new conversation." Crave was back, and assisting him was Dolores, the head of the family. Definitely bad news.
“Morning, Rob. Mama D.” Gavin wheezed, a bright and bloody grin stretching on his face, even though it hurt like a motherfucker. Don’t let them see anything, don’t let them think he was caving.
Dolores looked at him with raised eyebrows, strict features even stricter than he got used to seeing in the four months he had been undercover. Her manicured long fingers were daintily holding a bucket. “Can it, Dollface.” While Mama D looked like a middle-aged Maggie Smith, her voice sounded more like someone who has been smoking since birth. “Mama D is for family.”
The detective chuckled faintly and then flinched when he felt a hand stroke through his wet hair firmly. “So, Rob-” A hiss interrupted him, when it was yanked back, his throat exposed. With a grunt, he glared up at the redhead. “You didn’t tell me. What gave me away?” He looked around the room once more. There was a clock in the corner. It wasn’t working right, going just a tad too slow. No way to tell the time then.
“Who’s asking the questions, Robbie?” Dolores intervened. “I think we’re asking the questions, do we not?”
“That we do, mum.” Robin grinned down at Gavin, fingers raking almost gently through his curls. “That we do. Now, Reed.” Crave mumbled right into his ear. “While we’re not pressed for time, let’s still not waste it. There’s something I’ve always wanted to try.” Gavin frowned when he saw Dolores reach for a piece of fabric. The rag was wet and there was another bucket filled with water nearby. Oh. Shit.
When the rag was slapped over his face, he tried to struggle, but the position in the chair only got more and more restricting. He resolutely kept his mouth and eyes shut, but the second the cold water started to flow over his face, he let out a gasp. Slowly, but surely a burn started in his nose and moved right into his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Worse, he felt as if his lungs were filling up with water, even though he knew they weren’t. Just as his vision was starting to fade again, the wet cloth was yanked from his face and he gasped in several aborted breaths. Robin was observing him like a fucking lab rat. “What do you say, Reed? Round two?”
“Fuck yo-”
---
Things to cross off his bucket list. Waterboarding. Not fun. Not that it had ever been on his bucket list, to begin with.
His chest felt tight and breathing hurt. His muscles felt sore from tensing every time the rag was back on his face. He was wet and cold and his back started to protest from the metal chair. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything in - and there really was only guessing - about thirty-six hours and passing out probably didn’t count as sleep, so he wasn’t doing all that hot on that front.
He hadn’t caved yet, hadn’t told them anything about the DPD’s progress on the Crave family, hadn’t given any other names on the case. And he didn’t intend to. He wouldn’t! But slowly, he started to get a little nervous. Without his daily updates, Hank and Connor would probably grow suspicious soon. They would find him… right?
With a sigh, he tried to lean his head back against the chair, but even that was too low to relax his back. At least he had some time before they- “Jesus!” With a crash, the metal door was flung against the concrete wall and someone stomped in. “Hey! Hey, what-” A blindfold was wrapped around his head. “What-”
“Have fun tonight, love.”
“Fuck!” Teeth clamped around his neck in a bruising bite and Crave chuckled deeply into his ear. “What the fuck are you-” The hands left him altogether and he heard the door shut again. “Hey! What-” The light was turned off and he was left in darkness. What the fuck now? What the fuck now! He was breathing harshly, not knowing what to expect. It was nerve-wracking, he was all but blind in the dark room and he didn’t hear anything happening. They wouldn’t just blindfold him for shits and giggles, there was nothing to gain, except for-
Oh. Oh “Fuck.”
And just as the thought entered his mind - the echo of an idea, something he had read about once, because he had been bored on the job - the music set in. If you could even call it music. Loud noise, instruments, squealing and bashing, his ears ringing from it. And just as quickly as it started, it was cut off again. God, but he would relish in kicking that little bastard’s-
Noise!
-ass! That bastard’s pale ass. Fuck him and-
Noise!
-his fucking dog-
Noise!
-s. His dogs weren’t at fault, really, nothing against the dogs, just that fucking Robin Cr-
Noise!
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck!”
Everything in his body was strung tight. He flinched when music came on, when music didn’t come on, but he expected it to because he was trying to find a pattern, where no pattern was present. Everything was too fucking tense. Everything hurt. His head was throbbing and his breathing came hard. Every single time he thought he might pass out, the fucking noise started up again and startled him into consciousness.
He didn’t know how long. Could be hours, could be fucking days.
One constant, not constant at all.
Noise.
Noise.
Noise!
---
The undercover gig hadn’t even been his idea, for fuck’s sake.
Chen had taken one look at him and had gone: “Well if anyone is blending in as a thug, it’s Gavin.”
Not that he hadn’t been trained for it, but he hadn’t exactly done a lot of undercover work before. He used to be in narcotics, it was a logical choice and he had admittedly jumped at the opportunity. Fowler and him gave each other a lot of shit, but the fact alone that the Captain had trusted him enough to send him on the assignment was… it meant a lot.
And it wasn’t supposed to be hard. Gavin was an asshole, he was supposed to fit right in. And he had! The department had given him a sizable stash of Red Ice to ‘deal’ and he had quickly caught the family’s attention, just as expected. They had contacted him, had threatened him, had tested him, and after a month of regular deliveries, they had invited him to the first meeting. Two months in, he was invited to the first family meeting. Three months in, he was eating dinner at Mama D’s house, made by her son. Robin. Thus Luke Darson was born.
The goal had been information gathering. Names, meeting places, dealers, clients, distributors, makers, everything. Possible events for raids, situations to get caught red-handed in. That one thread of string, to unravel the family business.
Now, he was here. Found out. Somehow.
---
The faintest caress of fingers on his neck startled him back into the present. The noise was gone, had been gone for a while, but he hadn’t even noticed, so focused on waiting for it to start up again. The tips brushed into his hair gently, but he flinched away from them, tensing. Sure enough, a hard yank followed, Robin's laughter filling the room once more. "Are we ready to talk yet, my dear?" His torturer asked, amusement almost completely cloaking the frustration in his voice. Almost.
Gavin was fatigued, his head was woozy and despite the water on his face, he was quite dehydrated. Everything hurt, his broken nose restricting his breathing faintly. "Fuck you," he rasped out, his voice raw, but not quite gone yet.
Palm against his cheek, Crave gave him a few hard taps. "Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.” He pulled the blindfold off and Gavin blinked in the harsh light, eyes watering slightly. Robin let his hand wander down, thumb stroking against the bite mark on his neck, bruised and incredibly tender. Gavin couldn’t repress the faint whimper. “It’s sad, really.” His tormenter mumbled, tilting his head up. “Those sounds are wasted on torture, there’s so much I would have rather done with you, Gavin .” He smiled, but it was far from a nice smile. “That name does suit you way more than Luke ever did.”
“Many thanks.” Even rolling his eyes hurt. In any different situation, Gavin would be quite flattered by the comments, what with Robin being… pretty fucking hot. But well, he was being tortured, so really, no time. “How long until you finally kill me?” He tried to sound bratty, tried to sound like the asshole that he normally was. But his head was spinning and his voice was faint. His eyes were blinking shut.
The redhead raised his eyebrows at him, starting to frown. “Oh, my dear. Is this the only way you see this end?” When the detective’s only answer was a snort, Crave sighed deeply, hand wandering into Gavin’s curls again. “I admit, you didn’t leave us much choice. We don’t really know what you've already told your little friends at the precinct, so we have to be careful. But you could always-" He leaned closer again, breath tingling against Gavin's skin. It made him shiver, but not exactly in the sexy way. "- join us."
With a disbelieving laugh, the detective levelled him with a look. "Seriously?"
"Come on!" Crave leaned back and spread his arms. "Why not? You've been good at this. Good with us. Why not ditch those dickbags?"
"Right. Right right right." Gavin mumbled, taking a few measured breaths. "Because you and the family will just accept me with open arms. Right."
"What's that?" Pressing his fingers against the bruising on his face and neck, Robin smiled benignly when Gavin flinched. "You think the last few days haven't been punishment enough? Do you need more, Gavin dear?" His smile turned a little more manic. "Because there is more. Trust me. There is more."
---
There was more.
The days had merged into one, making Gavin lose count on how many had passed. Crave’s fists had made a comeback, without the brass knuckles this time. Not that he needed them anymore, with Gavin’s cracked and tender bones everything hurt enough already. Afterwards, he was left alone again with the blindfold and the noise.
He was shivering, both from cold and exhaustion. Twitching whenever he heard the faintest of sounds, even if it wasn’t the blasted music. His breathing was sounding harsh in his own ears and his head seemed to throb. He wished he could just pass the fuck out.
His mind kept going back to the day of his… well, kidnapping. He had gone to Hank’s for his normal report, had gotten his usual amount of Red Ice for his weekly delivery from Chen behind the precinct and had taken the long way around the alleyway to get to his car, parked a few blocks away. He hadn’t noticed any tails and Crave had mentioned that it hadn’t been Gavin’s fault that he had been caught. So what then? Was there a mole at the DPD? Did someone recognize his face somehow? He still didn’t know who to thank for this mess.
He just knew that he had gotten to the Crave warehouse, had greeted Darius at the door and then pain and darkness as he had been knocked out with something heavy and blunt.
---
He didn’t know how long they kept him isolated.
He didn’t know why Hank and the DPD took so long to find him, but then again, he didn’t even know where he was. Maybe in the basements of the warehouse, maybe in a different fucking state, he had no idea.
Funny, that in the end, it wasn’t even the DPD that found him.
It could have been days before he suddenly heard something different than the music. The door opened again, but not as harshly as the times before. He heard a commotion from outside, men running and yelling commands. Gunshots. And a voice, familiar and yet weirdly… not. “- detective, Perkins. Leaving him would be unwise.” Silence, as his blindfold was lifted, but the person was standing behind his back. “Negative, Special Agent. You shouldn’t bring personal feelings into this. Yes, I did in fact just disobey an order.” Gavin flinched when he felt cool metal against his wrist, but the knife was only used to snap off the zip ties. “Please refrain from yelling into my ear, Agent, it won’t help our situation.” Rubbing his hand over his sore wrists, Gavin shifted around and blinked when he saw the man pull out his earpiece with a disgusted sounding huff, putting it into a coat pocket. It was an android. In fact-
“Connor?” His voice was almost gone, his throat scratchy.
The man - Connor, but… not Connor - sent him a look, eyebrows raised. “Hello, Detective Reed. I’m going to get you out of here.”
“Who-”
“My name is Colin. I’m an RK900 unit with the FBI. There’s been a raid on the Crave family and I happened to hear about you by one of the men I… incapacitated.”
Head still reeling, Gavin shook it slowly. “The fuck?” A raid? RK900? As in newer than Connor? Better? He blinked up at the android and frowned faintly. Taller. Huh.
“Detective.” Fingers snapped in front of his eyes and he flinched back from the sudden noise. “My apologies, Detective. Can you stand?”
Gavin nodded before he even tried and started to push himself to his feet. They, of course, didn’t hold him after several days of no movement and buckled beneath him. Colin grabbed him immediately and with one swoop, pulled him up into his arms. “Shit.” Gavin wheezed, his fingers digging into the android’s coat. “This is humiliating.” Made even more humiliating by the softness of his voice.
“I’m sure your ego will survive, Detective.” While the words were almost harsh, they sounded nothing like how the android had sounded while talking to Perkins. They almost sounded amused. A door slammed close somewhere and the detective jumped lightly, cursing. Colin pulled him a little closer at that. “It will get loud out there.”
Gavin, too tired to keep his head up anymore, let it slump against a broad shoulder. He let out a snort. “I survived this long, haven't I.”
“That you have, Detective.” Adjusting his hold, - and really, Gavin probably weighed nothing to him - the android moved out. On their way, Gavin saw bodies, unconscious and wounded left and right. Mostly lackeys got rounded up by several FBI jackets.
“Stupid.” The detective mumbled, looking around at the lesser dogs getting caught. “Whose dumb idea was this raid?”
“Special Agent Richard Perkins.” Colin supplied, while he moved forward without looking around.
Another snort, this one disgusted. “Of course.”
Humming, Colin shouldered through a door and Gavin finally breathed in actual fresh air. Even the rain falling down on them felt like a small blessing. “I have to agree with that sentiment.” The android said, voice taking on the same disgusted lilt, that Gavin had used.
There was no love lost between the DPD and Perkins, no wonder the idiot would order a raid that wouldn’t catch the heads of the family. And really, even Gavin thought that the man was a piece of crap, the way he had treated androids. Sure, he himself hadn’t exactly been on the front line of android emancipation, but even he had seen that they weren’t doing anything dangerous under Markus Manfred’s lead and that they were… more human than he had given them credit for.
Gavin had changed in the year since the revolution. Had seen a lot of errors in the way he had been thinking. And if he was giving Connor shit now, it was a Connor thing and not an android thing. And it had been months since actual maliciousness was swapped between them.
It didn’t surprise him at all that Perkins had gotten himself his own shiny new toy, though.
They went silent, after that. Silent when Colin moved him into a waiting car, silent when he got in himself, silent even when the taller man pulled him closer to his body, running it hotter than necessary to provide some heat for Gavin’s clam skin. He gave him a bottle of water and then seemed to communicate with someone silently, judging by the yellow spinning of his LED. Gavin was thankful for the silence. His ears were still ringing.
He only let out a groan when he saw the hospital building coming closer, but the android started listing of everything that was wrong with him and when he got to the still present dehydration, the detective quickly relented. Maybe some extra care was alright after all.
---
“You don’t have to stay, you know?” Gavin peered up at the android, pacing around in the ER entrance. The detective was currently filling out his patient record, having refused Colin’s help. His right hand was fine… mostly. “I’m sure you have reports to make, ecetera ecetera.”
“I’d like to confirm that you get the care that you need.” The FBI agent levelled him with a weirdly knowing look. “And that you don’t just walk out once I’m gone.” Gavin would have rolled his eyes if that wasn’t exactly something he would do. He wasn’t quite sure how the android would know that, though. As it was, he flushed slightly and looked back down at his form.
“Fuck.” When Colin gave him a worried look, the detective waved his hand. “It's just... my fucking cats were alone the whole time.”
“No, they weren’t.” Momentarily confused at how the FBI agent could possibly know that, Gavin looked up, only to see Connor arrive, followed closely by Hank. “I might have broken into your apartment, sorry Gavin.”
Blinking up at them, Gavin was about to shrug it off, when something came to his mind. “Wait, Anderson has my fucking keys!”
Connor stared for a moment and then suddenly slapped the back of his hand against the lieutenant’s chest when the older man started snickering. “Sorry, Reed. Good to see you’re still kicking.”
“You liar.” The RK800 unit mumbled under his breath and then moved closer to Gavin, taking the form out of his hands and efficiently filling everything out himself while the detective slumped back into his chair, with little protest.
Colin observed the exchange with interest, blue ring spinning yellow, but quickly turned to Hank, shaking his hand. “Hello, my name is Colin. I’m with the FBI and helped with Detective Reed's transfer to hospital.”
“By ‘helped’ he means single-handedly, cause Perkins wanted to leave me there, tied up.” Gavin huffed and Hank’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. The RK900 unit looked surprised, so Gavin shrugged his shoulders, wincing a little. “Wasn’t hard to figure out by your side of the conversation.”
The android hummed, pulling the earpiece out of his pocket again. Coming back from delivering Gavin’s patient form, Connor smiled at his… cousin? “Thank you for helping him. I’m sure he hasn’t thanked you himself yet.”
Colin inclined his head dismissively and looked down at Gavin, who raised his chin in what little defiance he had left. “I’d be more offended if I wasn’t certain that the detective has a concussion and is barely awake.”
This time Gavin did roll his eyes, but a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips. “Thank you, Colin.” He said in the fakest sweet voice he could muster. Then he turned to Connor and adopted a more sincere voice. “And thank you for the cats. They’d have probably eaten each other otherwise.”
“I’m sure Stuart would have made a hearty meal for Alec and James.” Hank threw in and Gavin pointedly glared at him.
“Did you just call my cat fat, Anderson?” Before the lieutenant could answer him, his name was called out and Connor helped Gavin to his feet, thankfully refraining from carrying him like a fucking princess.
"Since it seems like you're in good hands, I'll be off." Colin moved closer and, in a movement that made Gavin’s breath hitch slightly, swiped a few errant strands of hair from his forehead. “Get well, Detective. Maybe we will meet again someday.” He smiled, less awkward than Connor still sometimes looked, and Gavin had to swallow subtly.
“S-sure. Yeah.” While putting his earpiece back into his ear, the android left with a last wave and Gavin couldn’t help but stare after him. When he heard the clearing of a throat he turned towards Connor, Hank just behind him. They were both staring at him with annoyingly smug expressions, Hank looking seconds away from laughter. “Shut up.” Gavin hissed, his face growing hot.
Stupid fucking colleagues.
---
Four days, he had been missing. Hidden away in a secondary warehouse, just on the outskirts of Detroit. His souvenirs: Dehydration, malnourishment, two broken ribs, three broken fingers, broken nose, slight case of pneumonia, concussion, muscle spasm, and trauma. Four-day stay at the hospital, followed by a three-week leave of absence from work, and even then only desk duty for at least a month. Therapy sessions for the trauma.
Fucking yay.
During his second day at the hospital, Gavin was already bored out of his mind. Some people came to visit him, Chen and Fowler on the first day, Fowler mostly for a report obviously, though he did congratulate Gavin for his mostly successful mission. Only after the man left, Gavin remembered that he had meant to ask how the fuck he had gotten compromised.
On day three, Connor and Hank came to visit and while the android was fussing around with his patient chart, Hank was asking him several questions about the Crave family. Just as Gavin had figured, the raid had been a complete bust and the biggest players had escaped without a lot of trouble. Perkins, apparently, was in deep shit and Gavin had laughed so hard when Connor had told him, that his cracked ribs had probably ended up broken, too. When the conversation came to a lull, he finally remembered his question. “Nobody told me, least of all fucking Robin Crave. He said it wasn’t on me, but-”
“It wasn’t.” Hank interrupted with a huff. “You did well. It was stupid, really. Remember the Brosco case? With the kidnapping?”
Carter Brosco had kidnapped single mom Mariah Dorian and her five-year-old daughter, after having previously stalked her. The DPD had managed to catch him just before he had left the state, thanks to several androids who had consented to have their memory probed to find his location. Gavin had been one of the detectives on the scene, but the case had nothing to do with the Crave family whatsoever, so he raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“You were caught on tape, in the background, by a NEWS drone.” Mouth slacking open a bit, Gavin’s mind replayed that day and he vaguely remembered seeing some flying around the location. “They must have seen the footage, your badge was on display.”
“Fuck.” The word came out in a long breath and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
Hank nodded. “Yeah. Fuck.”
"It wasn't all for nothing, Gavin." After setting down the tablet, Connor joined Hank in the chairs next to Gavin's bed. "We have a lot of important information about the family thanks to you."
"Gee, thanks." Huffing, the detective leaned back into his pillows. "At least my broken bones were good for something then."
The android bristled slightly and Gavin was sure that he would have turned slightly pink if he had been human. "That's not- I didn't-"
"Relax, man, I'm fucking with you." Slapping his hand against Connor's arm and promptly hissing when his broken fingers reminded him of their state, the detective groaned. "This sucks. The worst of them are still out there, probably on the other side of the country by now and I'm here, bored to death in a stupid nightgown that doesn't cover my ass." When he saw Connor make a face at the comment, he snorted. "Don't even look like that. You're fucking a man well into his fifties, his ass can't be-"
"And that is my queue to leave." The android stood, while Hank, not at all offended or embarrassed was laughing his head off.
Gavin quickly reached out to tug Connor down again. "No, wait, stay. I'm seriously bored, please."
They stared at each other for a moment, Connor glaring and the detective as innocent as he could possibly muster, wide eyes and all. The android let out a long-suffering sigh and sat back down again. "How much did it hurt to close your fingers?"
"So fucking much."
"Good."
Tina eventually came along on day four to drive him home and laugh at him, because fucking Connor told her about the bridal carry business. He made her make him coffee and pick a movie for him after and she pitied his state enough to do as asked. She even ordered his favourite pizza.
---
Being out of the hospital was great. At first.
Until Gavin realised that going back home, meant going back home alone, and as much as he loved them, his cats weren’t exactly the best guard animals out there. The second the door closed behind Tina, key turned and bolt latched, he instantly felt paranoid. And whenever Gavin felt paranoid, anxiety messing with his head, he did one thing. Bundle up on the couch, cats left and right and watch some shitty movie loud enough that his neighbours complained.
The problem with that plan was that noise wasn’t exactly relaxing at the moment. Certainly not sudden noise. So what he did instead, was bundle up with his cats and put on the TV on mute, simply for the benefit of the flickering lights. His cats were cuddlers, it wasn’t hard to get them to join him, especially after he fed them copious amounts of treats in apology for his absence.
He still wasn’t relaxing. Sleep didn’t come that night, and it didn’t come the next. He barely left his place on the couch, only ever to throw in a frozen pizza or other into the oven or feed the Double O’s. Three days into his stay back at home, he probably looked worse than he had in the stupid Crave basement. Gavin wasn’t a particularly vain person, but even he felt pretty awful whenever he happened to shuffle past a mirror.
And then one of his neighbours burned their no-doubt disgusting ready-made meal and triggered the apartment building’s fire alarm.
Gavin’s body just completely shut down. The glass of water in his hands fell to the floor and shattered, his cats scattered and hid around the room and the detective slumped to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. His ears were ringing and he was almost sure that he could feel water on his face. Everything felt too much, his chest clenching as he gasped, and his vision tunnelling as he was staring down at his hands, bandaged fingers looking crooked, even though he knew that they’d been set in the hospital. He couldn’t -
“-eathe.”
He couldn’t think.
Everything felt wet and cold and isolated and he could swear that he was hearing instruments screeching, again and again, and again.
“-eed, you need t-”
Something was grabbing him, someone was touching him and every instinct in his body yelled at him to fight. So he started thrashing, fists flying blindly, as his eyes flickered around widely. “No.” His own voice came through the haze in his mind and it sounded rough and broken. “Stop. No!”
“Detective Reed. Please.” His arms were crossed over his chest forcefully, covered by strong arms, and his back was pulled close towards a firm chest. “You need to breathe. Calm.” The words were spoken calmly and the body he was leaning against was warm. Not Robin. Not the basement. The coldness in his chest slowly thawed and as he felt the chest at his back expand in regular movements, his own breathing slowly adjusted to it. He was held for a while, wheezing faintly as his thoughts started to puzzle into a coherent picture again. “There you go.” The voice whispered against his hair. “Just like that.”
“Con-” It wasn’t Connor. The android hadn’t called him ‘Detective Reed’ in a long time. Probably not another random RK800 unit, so that only left: “Colin?”
“Leave your questions for later, Detective. For now, breathe.” He could almost imagine that he felt the words rumble in the chest he was leaning against. Less pinned now, he was almost being hugged by the RK900 unit, but he would have time to be embarrassed about that later. “Very good, deep breaths.”
Gavin slumped back against the chest then, limbs going liquid. “How the fuck did you even get in here?” Later, he decided. Later he would feel ashamed, but for now, he just leaned closer, soaked up the warmth of the android’s body and hoped the shivering would stop soon. He felt the man heat up again, warmer than normal. Warmer for Gavin. “‘nks.”
“I meant to visit you sooner, but my last few days at work have been very hectic,” Colin spoke against the back of his head, seemingly content in their position. “When I arrived I heard the glass shatter and scanned you, detecting the panic attack.”
Gavin huffed, frowning. “Let me guess, my lock has to be changed again?”
There was a slight pause, the android clearing his throat. “The door, I’m afraid. I wasn’t as efficient as I might have been in a different situation.”
“Of course,” the detective sighed. Colin was so warm. So incredibly warm and comfortable, he couldn’t help his eyes sliding shut. “Just perf-”
---
He woke up again, in his bed, sun shining in through the curtains. Sitting up groggily, he looked around his loft, only to see his cats swarming around Colin in the living room. It was too far to hear, but by the movements of the android’s lips, Gavin was pretty sure the man was talking to them, as they meowed at him. Something warm grew in his chest and he frowned at the sight, hand involuntarily moving over his heart, rubbing. “You’ve slept for twelve hours, Detective.” Letting his hand fall, quickly, Gavin looked up to see Colin move closer. “I’m sure you needed it.”
“I…” Alec jumped up onto his bed and into his lap. He cupped his hands around him, stroking the soft fur. “Maybe.”
“You haven’t been sleeping, Detective. How long?” The android asked, voice firm but not judging.
Gavin still felt like a chastised child. “Three days,” he mumbled as Alec rubbed his little face against his hands.
“I’ve made tea, Detective.” When Colin reached out to stroke his own fingers through Alec’s grey fur, their skin touched briefly and Gavin suppressed a shiver. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“‘course not.” Clearing his throat, he picked Alec up and gently sat him down on the bed. He ignored Colin’s penetrative gaze and pulled the blanket away to stand up. “But I think I’ll take a shower first.”
“Of course.” The last thing Gavin saw before closing the door to the bathroom, was the android sitting down on his bed, Alec squirming closer to rub up against him, the little slut.
The shower helped him feel slightly better, though he didn’t bother shaving, even though his shadow was creeping into actual beard territory. A little patchy, perhaps, but who did he have to impress anyway, Colin? “Ah fuck.” He hadn’t brought clothes to change, but the ones he had worn before quite frankly reeked. Towel, then. Nobody to impress, nothing to be self-conscious about. “Fuck.” He knotted the towel down around his hips and raked a hand through his hair. Fantastic. Just what he needed.
Opening the door, he peeked outside, sighing in relief when he didn’t see the android on his bed anymore, only James and Alec cuddling on top of the covers. Stuart was nowhere to be seen, probably prowling around Colin still. He moved towards his closet, pulling out the oldest and softest clothes he could find. It ended up being a set from his police academy years, sweats and t-shirt pulling a little tight, but unbelievably comfortable. He couldn’t see Colin from his position, so he assumed the android was behind the kitchen divide. He still hurried in dressing. He stopped to scratch both Alec and James behind the ears and then moved into the kitchen.
Colin, sitting at the table reading on a tablet, looked up when he heard him enter, and levelled him with another intense stare. “What? Something on my face?” Gavin asked, raising his eyebrows as he sat down in front of the android, noticing Stuart sitting in his lap. His LED was yellow again, maybe he had been on a call?
“Not at all.” Colin smiled, pushing a mug with steaming tea towards him. “You look rested.”
“I guess I actually feel rested, for once.” The detective yawned behind his hand and took a sip. “So what’s the verdict on my door?”
The android let the tablet sink completely, giving Gavin his whole attention. “I have already ordered and installed a new model while you were asleep, Detective, you don’t need to worry.”
Surprised, Gavin blinked and then let out a laugh. “Of course, you did.” He shook his head, as he leaned back in his chair, a grin slowly stretching over his lips. “I guess I have a lot to thank you for.”
Frowning, Colin made a disagreeing sound. “Considering I was the one who destroyed your door, I wouldn’t necessarily ask for gratitude.”
The detective rolled his eyes, exasperated. “You know that’s not what I meant, tin can.”
“Tin can.” The android blinked at him, adopting an almost human gaze of confusion. “Should I be insulted, meatbag?” Nearly snorting his tea through his nose, Gavin quickly put the mug down as he doubled over in wheezing laughter, groaning when his still very much tender ribs protested harshly. Colin stared at him with a smug expression, but then frowned when Gavin stayed slumped over the table. “Detective?”
“Sorry.” Gavin wheezed. “Not in the best condition to laugh.”
The android hummed, pushing the tea closer again. “My apologies. Do you require medicine against the pain?”
“‘m fine.” Gavin waved him off and pulled the mug towards him, inhaling a few sips. “I’m fine. All good.” Leaning back against his chair, he looked at Colin with a crooked smile. “So. What exactly lead to you kicking my door in? You mentioned checking up on me?”
“Yes. I meant to visit sooner.” Sitting up straighter, the android frowned. “There’s also something you should know.”
“That most of the Crave family got away? Yeah, I’ve been told.” Gavin huffed, but Colin shook his head.
“Actually, no. You have… not missed that Special Agent Perkins had ordered me to leave you in the Crave basement.” At Gavin’s snort, Colin inclined his head. “I have to admit that his reasoning has been completely biased and unprofessional. I couldn’t lea-”
“Colin.” Gavin frowned as he raised his hand to silence the android. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you don’t have to explain Perkins to me. The dick's been a fucking thorn in our sides for years.”
Colin showed a faint smile at that. “I’m… glad to hear that. Because I agree and am transferring into your precinct.”
The detective, who had been in the midst of taking a sip of his cooling tea, inhaled it completely, causing him to sputter and cough into his mug. “You what?” He wheezed out once more, tea flowing down his chin, incredibly attractively no doubt.
“I’ve been talking to Captain Fowler, he is not at all opposed to working with another detective android. Connor, too, seems… happy.” The word still sounded a bit foreign to him and for the first time, Gavin wondered when the RK900 unit had deviated. Back during the revolution? Later? When had he joined the FBI?
Of course, he could ask him like a normal human being, but who ever said that Gavin was anything but difficult? “Do you-” He frowned, taking a large gulp. “Do you have a partner already?”
“I have for a fact.” The android seemed weirdly hesitant and Gavin waved his hand in a go-on motion. “You.”
The thud of the mug sounded overly loud in the sudden silence and the detective could even hear his cat breathe a little nasally. “Oh.” His chest felt warm again, his hand involuntarily moving back to rub against it. What the fuck was wrong with him?