Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fuck that stupid robot.

Six months working together and every day was one step forward, one step back. And just when Gavin thought they were making progress, he would do some stupid shit like this. Like ask Gavin for a ride home, invite him upstairs and then pick a fight about their fucking case that really wasn't about the case at all. It wasn’t Gavin’s fault they had hit a dead end. Well, maybe it was. Maybe he was just god damned distracted by the fact that the FBI was courting RK900 and the idea of losing his partner to fucking Perkins of all people was so disgusting he could barely think. Of course that was what the fight was about, really. Not that either of them would admit that.

He furiously lit one of his cigarettes as he stormed away from the building. Fucking RK900 and his fucking perfect personality, he was so annoying. Maybe he should just transfer. Leave the DPD and get the fuck out of Gavin’s hair, no-unsolved-cases be fucked. They worked good together, even if they didn’t get along.

He waited at the stoplight, staring at the big red light ahead of him. Red, like RK900’s LED that he refused to take out like the rest of them, red when he argued with Gavin, red when Gavin stormed out and slammed the door. Gavin knew it meant RK900 was pissed off or whatever, but he never showed it, never yelled or screamed or cursed. He never even said Gavin’s name, just called him Detective. Detective Reed, we have a call. Detective Reed, you didn’t eat lunch. Detective, Detective, Detective. That stupid prick.

The light changed and Gavin let his rage carry him across the street. He needed a drink.

~

When had his bed gotten so comfortable? Gavin curled deeper into the blankets, the comforter weighing over him, the soft pillows and firm mattress. He must have been really tired. God damn, he didn’t want to get up. What day of the week was it? Did he have work? Considering his alarm hadn’t gone off, he guessed not. His hands scrambled around the bed for his phone, but couldn’t find it. Whatever.

And then suddenly, he froze. He could hear noise from his kitchen, quiet but definitely there. His cat was nowhere to be found. Usually Meatball would be laying on his face by now, begging for food or pets or whatever it was he couldn’t figure out she wanted.

And it looked - something looked different. It looked clean. What the fuck? Gavin scrubbed at his face. Had he gone into a drunken cleaning fit the night before? Had he picked up an overly-neurotic one night stand? Certainly wouldn’t be the first time. His head hurt. His brain hurt. Something was wrong.

Gavin jumped out of bed, not bothering to put a shirt on, wondering where his gun was, just in case. His door opened directly into the living area, and from there he’d have a clear view of the kitchen. Carefully, quietly, he opened up the door, glanced across the room, and then -

It was just RK900. His back was to Gavin, clad in a pair of dark pants and a black turtleneck sweater, a typical outfit for him, standing over the kitchen counter. Meatball was perched next to him, watching him expectantly, though she did turn and meow at Gavin as he walked in.

“The hell are you doing in my kitchen?” Gavin demanded. He didn’t bother asking how the android got inside; obviously he picked the lock, because of course he did. He had done it once before, when Gavin had gotten the flu and not shown up to work maybe two months into their partnership.

RK900 didn’t even glance at him. “Coffee,” he said, nodding at the french press on the other side of the counter, closer to Gavin. Then he moved over to the sink, revealing what he was doing. Gavin took a deep breath.

“Are you making waffles?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, is that what this does?” RK900 gestured at the waffle maker. “I was unaware.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Gavin couldn’t help it, he steered himself towards the french press, a fresh cup of coffee sitting right next to it. Gavin had a coffee machine, too, for when he felt really lazy. How had RK900 known what he preferred? He took a tentative sip of the cup and nearly died. It was so good. Better than any coffee he had ever made himself. Maybe better than any he had ever tasted. Gavin thought about that time RK900 had busted into his house to check on him. RK900 had found Gavin curled up in a blanket on his couch, so sick he barely cursed the android out for breaking into his fucking apartment. But all RK900 had done was chastise him for only having cheap orange juice full of sugar, pour him a glass of it anyway, and then leave with a breezy, I'll email you. Well, clearly he had developed some semblance of domestic skills since then. But - why, and how?

What in the hell was going on.

“Okay, fess up, why the hell are you doin’ this?” Gavin said as he took another long sip.

“I would prefer not to arrest you for a homicide today,” RK900 said conversationally.

Gavin had to laugh. “True, but where we left off - “

“Gavin,” RK900 said, and Gavin froze, completely and totally, at the sound of his name coming from RK900’s mouth. That was fucking weird. “We do not need to discuss it. I understand.”

Gavin frowned deeply. “Look tin can, just give me one of those waffles.”

The more coffee Gavin drank, the more aware he became of the scene around him. He felt like he was waking from a long dream. He must have gotten really drunk last night. He supposed this was how RK900 would apologize to him, with coffee and food. Of course he knew it would work. And there was fruit on the table, bowls of blueberries and cantaloupe, neatly plated and set in front of Gavin. He popped a berry in his mouth. What the fuck?

“You go shopping this morning or something?” Gavin asked as he took another bite of his waffle. It was fucking delicious. Who knew the android could cook?

“It is quite amazing, the things I can accomplish before you wake up,” RK900 said. His voice was almost - teasing. “I do have some other errands to run, if you’d like to join me.”

“You’re a prick,” Gavin muttered. “What time is it, anyway?”

“It is twenty six minutes past ten am,” RK900 said. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and folded it neatly next to the sink as he spoke, leaning against the counter. “The weather is sixty four degrees, partly cloudy, your horoscope for today is - “

“You are annoying as fuck,” Gavin said pointedly, and then, much to his shock, RK900 smiled. Gavin had never seen him smile. It practically knocked Gavin off of his chair.

What happened next was even worse.

“Fortunately for you, you are stuck with me,” RK900 said, and then he strode across the room, putting his hand on the back of Gavin’s chair and leaning in. He was so close Gavin could see every freckle on his face, every line Cyberlife had etched into his skin for some fucking strange reason, every eyebrow hair, every fleck of blue in his eyes. And then RK900 leaned down and pressed his mouth just to the side of Gavin’s, a kiss, like he had done it a million times before.

Gavin was so shocked he couldn’t even form a sentence. RK900’s hand grazed over his back, briefly cupped the back of his neck, his long fingers brushing through Gavin’s hair. It had been years since Gavin had been touched like that. Maybe not ever, even.

“Why don’t you get in the shower,” RK900 suggested. “You smell like ham boiled in sweat.”

“What the fuck?” Gavin said for probably the fiftieth time. He felt at least fifty percent stupider than he had been ten seconds before. His hand went to his mouth, fingers touching where the android’s synthetic ones had just been. “What’d you do that for?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I actually find you quite tolerable,” RK900 said with another smile, smaller and more fond than before. “Even when you smell like ham.” He squeezed Gavin’s shoulder one last time. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Home?” Gavin sputtered as RK900 turned towards the door. “What, did you move in while I was sleeping?”

“You finally noticed,” RK900 said dryly. And with that, he left.

Meatball finally jumped up in his lap, free of RK900’s spell. Gavin still felt like he was under it. It was almost like - deja vu. More like a dream, maybe. He absently stroked his cat's fur. She was fatter than yesterday, or so it seemed. Maybe RK900 had just given her too many waffle samples. The cat certainly seemed to like him, despite being a stranger. As he pet her, his eyes trailed to his own belly, and with a start he saw the scar, a long, thin line down the center of his chest. That definitely wasn’t there yesterday. Gavin had a lot of scars, but he knew every single one.

Had Meatball clawed him and he just never noticed? It was a thin scar, but Gavin uneasily realized it was too deep to be just a cat scratch.

He picked up Meatball and began looking around the apartment. It was clean, neat. The walls looked freshly painted. The kitchen was rearranged; new equipment, like a juicer, and a fancy food processor. The living room was the same. A black leather couch, looking both new and lived in. A big television he hadn’t ever been able to afford. Did he do some fucking drunk online shopping? There was no way this had happened overnight, though. It just - wasn’t possible.

And that kiss. What the fuck had that been? You’ve got no sense of human socialization, Gavin had told RK900 once. Maybe that was just another example of it. He’d have to tell the android to never do that shit again.

Gavin resumed the search for his phone. Eventually he found it charging on a port in one of his bedside table drawers, a place he didn’t usually put it. He didn’t remember even having a charging port in there, he usually just plugged it into the wall. And when he unlocked the screen -

“The fuck is this,” Gavin said to his cat. The picture was of him and RK900 of all people, side by side outside somewhere, some random summer day it seemed like. They were dressed nicely, different than usual, RK900 in white and red, Gavin in fucking suspenders for some reason, their suit jackets hung over their arms. Some event Gavin didn’t remember. He was leaning against RK900, laughing. Now that had definitely never fucking happened.

Gavin’s mind was racing. He felt sick. He sat down on his bed. What the hell was going on? He couldn’t remember shit. Yesterday they had been fighting, yesterday RK900 had met with Fowler and Perkins and been offered a temporary transfer to the FBI, possibly permanent if it went well, which of course it would. And today -

Gavin crawled back under his blankets. Something heavy and horrible was descending over him. This had to be a dream, something he was making up because he felt guilty or whatever for being mean to his partner. Maybe subconsciously. Whatever, he deserved it, that FBI fucker.

He closed his eyes, feeling his cat’s comforting weight on his chest. For a minute he considered getting up to close the blinds, but he didn’t want to go to sleep, not really. He just had to settle down. He let his hand drift over Meatball’s head until he gave himself over to exhaustion.

~

God dammit, this really was a comfortable bed. He had never noticed before.

And yeah, the comforter was new. Or it seemed like it. Gavin had to check his bank account. He wondered what else he had done in his clearly drunken stupor.

He reached for his phone. It was gone again. He swore it had been laying under his pillow.

“Fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself as he threw the blankets off of his body. He pulled open the drawer where he had found his phone before, and there it was, charging, just as he had found it earlier that morning.

The clock read 10:06 AM.

“What the fuck,” he breathed. There was no way he slept for like, nearly twenty four hours. His eyes flicked to the date on the top of the screen. June 5th -

No, that was impossible. June 5th was two days ago, now. The day he and RK900 had argued at his apartment. Maybe his phone was broken. Maybe his brain was broken. He had dreamt that he woke up yesterday and RK900 had been inside his house, cooking for him, he had god damn kissed him of all things and his cat had gained about thirty pounds overnight. He looked down at his bare chest. A scar ran down the center of it, thin and pale.

He heard a sound from the kitchen.

Gavin ran out, already smelling the waffles and butter and syrup, the fresh coffee, the air coming in through the open windows, and there of course was RK900, cooking in his kitchen for the second day in a row with Meatball at his side. She meowed.

“You’re here again?” Gavin asked in exasperation.

“You cannot get rid of me that easily,” the android said without turning around.

“Guess not,” Gavin said uneasily. Had it been a dream, or not? He saw the coffee cup on the counter, just as it had been the day before. He didn’t take it. “What are you doing?”

“Making waffles,” RK900 said as if it was so obvious.

“Yeah, I fucking see that, but like, what are you doing here?”

His partner turned to face him, a little smile on his face. “I do have a significant amount of errands to run today. But I figured I would make you breakfast first.” He hesitated, briefly, then turned to Gavin. “You were upset, yesterday.”

“Upset?” Gavin had to laugh. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

“You don’t have to explain,” RK900 said simply. “I understand.”

“I’m just - fuck.” Gavin rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m really confused, okay? The last couple of days have been - “ He stopped, unsure what to say. He had never spent so much of his free time around his partner. They spent almost every waking hour together working, but never before had they done this. And definitely not two days in a row. “Why are you cooking for me, anyway?”

RK900’s eyes were warm. “Well Lieutenant, I have been tasked with keeping you in good health, and while waffles are not the most nutritious - “

“Don’t call me that,” Gavin said sharply, his face hot.

RK900 paused. “Call you what?” He looked genuinely, oddly, confused, but Gavin knew that the android was incapable of misspeaking, which meant his slight had to be intentional, which was even worse.

“Lieutenant,” Gavin snapped. RK900’s LED went yellow, just for a second. He knew how Gavin felt about that promotion, the one he had been towards for years but had never received. And to just throw it in his face so sarcastically was -

“Gavin,” he said as he crossed the room, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “It is a big change, I know that. But it is one you are more than deserving of. You are a capable man.”

“Fuck you,” Gavin said weakly. RK900 placed the plate of waffles in front of him, next to the bowl of berries and melon, just like yesterday.

“Now eat,” he commanded. “I have some errands to run.”

“How many fucking errands does an android need to do, jesus,” Gavin said, unable to resist the pull of breakfast. He fucking loved waffles. “Hey,” he said through a mouthful of food, “what’s this pic from?” He pulled his phone from his pocket, flashing it towards RK900.

Now, RK900 looked at him suspiciously. He laid one cool, thin hand across Gavin’s forehead. “Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

Gavin swatted his hand away. “No, I’m not. When the fuck did we get all dressed up like that?”

“Perhaps you blocked it from your memory,” RK900 mused, touching his chin thoughtfully, looking quite amused at Gavin’s annoyance. His voice sounded light and teasing again, something very unfamiliar to Gavin. “I know your hatred for formal wear. Even myself, I have only seen you in a suit perhaps three times.”

“Three times?” Gavin sputtered. “No way it’s been that many. There was Tina’s wedding when you first joined the force - “

“Yes, and Markus and Simon’s, where we took that picture,” RK900 said. “We were both quite intoxicated,” he added. Markus and Simon? Gavin barely knew them. Why the fuck would he be at their wedding? How had he gone to a whole wedding and forgotten it? And why the fuck would he and his partner have gone together?

RK900 then leaned down and took Gavin’s hand, and in the most bizarre, gentle gesture, kissed his ring finger. “And ours, of course,” he said, so quiet against the skin Gavin nearly missed it.

“Ours?” Gavin practically screamed. He was too shocked to move.

RK900 was smiling again, amused. “As I said, you can’t get rid of me that easily. You made sure of that.”

He released Gavin’s hand with a final squeeze and then stood and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I will return in a couple of hours,” he said. “Text me if you need anything.”

“I need you to start making some fucking sense,” Gavin choked out. His head was spinning.

“I’ll add that to my task list.” And with that, he was gone.

Gavin looked down at his hand and sure enough, there it was, thin and gold, so perfectly fit to him he hadn’t noticed it before. A wedding band.

Gavin tore apart the house. There was no way. This had to be some fucking elaborate joke that Tina and RK900 cooked up or something. Maybe Anderson was in on it too, that bastard. They knew how he felt about androids, which was perfectly tolerant, thank you very much. They looked like people, they actually felt emotions, he got it. He just didn’t go out of his way to spend time around them, other than RK900, who he didn’t have a choice with anyway. Connor had beat the shit out of him, after all. Maybe he deserved it, but, whatever. He and Connor and Hank could actually be in the same room without cursing each other out nowadays, that was enough for Gavin.

Which was a good thing, because there was a framed picture of the two of them on Gavin's wall.

Yeah, this had to be a fucking joke.

Gavin threw himself into the bed and unlocked his phone. He went immediately to his photos. Gavin loved taking pictures, both of himself and everything else, his cats, a nice sunset, a cool rock he found on the side of the road. He tried to think of the last picture he had taken. Probably his breakfast that morning before he left for work. No, not this morning. Not yesterday either, when RK900 had first made him breakfast. But the day before yesterday, when he and his partner had argued. It was a bacon egg and cheese, dripping with grease and oil, just how he liked all of his food. He had picked it up on the way to the precinct, where he had sat at his desk and watched RK900 meet with his superiors. The android had been dismissed for the day, afterwards, to consider their offer. Gavin drove him home on his lunch break, and then...

But the most recent pictures were - something else entirely. It was like looking at the photo album of someone he barely knew. No bacon egg and cheeses in sight, just green smoothies, salads, sunrises. Pictures of Meatball, of course, which was the only normal thing, but he didn’t remember taking any of them. And then, he swiped onto a picture of him and RK900, his arm draped casually over the android’s shoulder, the two of them in some kind of coffee shop or something Gavin didn’t recognize. They were both smiling, posing for the camera.

Okay, this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Gavin’s skin was crawling. Unable to stop himself, he threw his phone across the room, listened to the satisfying thunk it made as it hit the wall. Maybe it would break. Maybe it would break and when he got a new one, all of his old photos would be on there - no, not old, his real photos. Because they weren’t old. He had taken that picture of his breakfast sandwich only a couple of days ago.

Gavin downed cup after cup of coffee as he scoured the apartment again, thinking he'd find some kind of explanation. But all he had were questions. All of his things were still here, for the most part, his dad’s old books and his old movies that he still kept, even though everything was online now. Everything just looked… nice. The shelves had actually been dusted sometime recently, the floor swept free of cat hair. He couldn't figure out how to turn the tv on, it was so god damn fancy. The pillows on the couch even had covers on them. When the fuck had that ever been something Gavin gave a shit about?

He sunk down onto the couch and pulled one of the inexplicably bougie pillows over his lap. He wanted to call Tina, ask her if anything weird was going on. She would be honest with him, no matter what was going on. Hell, he'd settle for talking to Hank, or even fucking Connor to be honest. But the idea of rising from the couch was far too daunting. And so, too, strangely, was the idea of actually getting the answer to his questions.

He laid his head back on the back of the couch with a sigh. All that coffee had run through him and now he felt exhausted with confusion and frustration. He closed his eyes, wondering if or when RK900 would return. Would he just pick the lock again? Or had he taken Gavin’s keys? Gavin hadn’t given a set, had he? No, there’s no way he would do something like that. They weren’t even friends. They were just colleagues, partners.

You are a capable man, RK900’s voice came into his ear, as if he had been simply stating a fact. Gavin could feel his hand on his neck, his lips against his mouth.

What the fuck was he playing at? Had something happened after Gavin had left his apartment? Gavin must have really gotten plastered. Maybe he called him and apologized. Maybe they fucked. It would explain the kiss, sort of. And Gavin would be lying if he said he had never thought about it before. He had always wondered if it was even possible, if it was something the android could physically do. Gavin’s face burned with shame. He twisted the wedding band around and around on his finger and then he took it off, placing it on the coffee table in front of him. Though it fit him perfectly, it felt almost wrong to have it on. No, it was wrong. They weren’t married. It just - it wasn’t possible. It had never happened. He barely even knew the guy. This was a joke. This was a dream. And RK900 was in on it, somehow.

When he comes back, I’ll confront him, Gavin thought. I’ll find out what’s going on one way or another.

~

Gavin woke up with a start.

“Fuck,” he yelled, throwing the blankets off of his body. Somehow he had migrated from the couch to the bed. He threw himself over the side, reaching for his phone where he had thrown it, but - it wasn’t there.

“What the shit,” he muttered to himself. He crawled back over the bed, reaching with an uneasy feeling towards his bedside drawer, and sure enough there it was -

10:05 AM. June 5th.

“No it’s not!” Gavin shouted at the phone, as if that would help. He put it back in the drawer and closed it with a bang, then turned around and ran out the room, bumping right into RK900 as he did so.

“What’s wrong?” RK900 demanded. His LED was red and flickering.

Gavin pushed him away. “You are!” he spat. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Gavin,” RK900 said in a soothing voice, placing both his hands on Gavin’s shoulders, grounding him instantly. “You are okay. You’re home.”

“No, I’m not fucking home,” Gavin said. His voice shook with rage, his vision tunneling at the edges. “This is not my fucking home. This is not my couch, or my tv, or my fucking mess. In fact, there is no fucking mess, which is what should really clue you in that something is wrong !”

“Why don’t you lay back down,” RK900 said. He looked troubled, almost scared.

“I’m not doing shit until you tell me what the fuck is going on.” Suddenly he smelled something burning. “What the fuck - “

Then RK900 turned around and shot back into the kitchen, running like he had a perp to apprehend. Gavin followed after him, because of course he had to, and came into the kitchen to see his partner desperately scraping a blackened waffle off of the waffle maker.

“More fucking waffles?” Gavin demanded.

RK900 didn’t turn around at first, but when he did, he looked sheepish. “I know I do not usually make them, but I also know they are your favorite, so I made extras.”

“What the fuck do you mean, you’ve been making them for fucking days!” Gavin said incredulously.

“You are not making any sense,” RK900 said as he unplugged the machine and faced Gavin with his arms crossed. “I have tracked your meals for years and you have not consumed waffles in this house for over three months.”

“You are so full of shit!” Gavin couldn’t stop the words, now that they were coming. “Why the fuck do you track my meals when we don’t even get along? Why the fuck is my phone lock screen a picture of the two of us all touchy-feely at a wedding I don’t remember going to? And why the fuck,” he pulled the ring off of his finger and held it up in RK900’s face, “am I wearing this?”

It was that action that made RK900 stop. His LED was still whirring, turning, flickering, like it was trying and failing to process what was happening. Bright red against RK900’s pale face.

“Gavin,” he said, his voice calm in contrast to the expression on his face, “I know this day is difficult for you. But you have not acted this way in years. I am concerned about you. I think you should make a doctor’s appointment.”

“I don’t need a fucking doctor,” Gavin said, utterly bowled over by his words. “And what do you mean, years? I just met you six fucking months ago. Maybe it feels like years we’ve had to deal with each other, I get it, but - “

“Stop,” RK900 commanded. “I am taking you to the hospital.”

“You’re not taking me fucking anywhere.” Gavin stalked out of the room, but he could feel that the android was following him. “I don’t need your help, I don’t need your fucking waffles - “

He felt it again, RK900’s hands on his shoulders, this time from behind, holding him in place. The android slowly stepped closer, until his chest was pressed up against Gavin’s back, and then he put his arms around Gavin, just holding him with his face pressed into Gavin’s hair.

“Gavin,” he said quietly, “please talk to me.”

“Why the fuck would I ever want to do something like that,” Gavin said, but his voice was as weak as his legs felt. He was sure he might collapse. The only thing holding him up was his partner’s arms around his body, so foreign and yet so oddly correct, an impossibly familiar weight, just like his wedding ring. He realized it was still clutched in his palm. Gavin Reed, married to an android, to this android of all things. If he was dreaming, why the hell would his brain cook up something so incredibly fucking ridiculous?

He pulled away and went back into the bedroom without looking back behind him. Once he slammed the door closed, he just stood there, expecting RK900 to come plowing through. But it stayed closed.

Gavin wasn’t sure how long he stood there. Eventually he collapsed back onto the bed. His body ached and burned with all of his unanswered questions. If his phone was to be believed, it had been June 5th for three days. He had woken up just after ten am for three days. RK900 had been in his house, making him waffles, for three days. And as RK900 said, Gavin hadn’t acted this way in years. What the hell did that mean?

Something was wrong, horribly wrong. Maybe there was something happening in Gavin’s mind. Maybe he was losing it. Maybe he was going insane. Maybe RK900 was right and he should just go the hospital. Maybe then, he really could get some fucking answers. But the idea of facing the android was too much to deal with.

He tried calling Tina, but she didn’t answer. Her phone went straight to voicemail. Gavin stared at the screen afterwards, at the unfamiliar photo of him and his partner, the easy way they leaned against each other. He stuffed his phone under his pillow.

“I will wake up tomorrow and it will be June 6th,” Gavin said aloud. “I will wake up tomorrow and everything will be normal again.” He had never dreamed for so long and so vividly. All he had to do was just break out of this, wake up out of this drunken stupor, and get his shit together.

He closed all the blinds and crawled back into bed. There was a sick feeling deep in his stomach, not at what was happening, but at something even weirder - at what he had said to RK900, the way the android hadn’t followed him, the same way he hadn't followed after Gavin stormed out of his apartment. Had Gavin hurt his feelings? That day, or today? No, RK900 didn’t have feelings. He hadn’t even deviated yet. Or at least, he had, but he had been forced to, when he had been woken up during the revolution. Gavin had never seen any signs of true emotion. Not until now.

Gavin wrapped the blanket around himself and stared at the wall until he willed himself back to sleep.

~

Gavin didn’t want to open his eyes.

“It’s June 6th,” he whispered to himself. “It’s June 6th, 2039, and I am alone in my house.”

The blinds were open again, throwing light back into the room. Gavin’s nerves thrummed as he rolled over and reached into the bedside table. He had put his phone under the pillow, he knew it, but -

But no, there it was on the charging port. Gavin didn’t even want to look at the screen, but he did anyway, those familiar numbers and letters confirming what he was afraid of.

10:10 AM. June 5th

He smelled waffles.

Gavin didn’t move. He couldn’t. He stared at the ceiling, his mind and body suddenly numb. He had to be going crazy. He had to be.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, but eventually there was a quiet knock on the door, and then it opened up and there was RK900, tall and poised in his dark clothes, his LED blue on his temple. He was holding a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” he said in a voice so gentle and warm it made Gavin’s head explode. “Coffee?”

Gavin just nodded. RK900 crossed the room and sat down at the edge of the bed, handing Gavin the steaming mug. He didn’t drink it at first, just held it in his palms, and RK900 watched him with a little frown for a while, just sitting in silence. This was different, then. This was a different morning, with the same date. Another dream, maybe.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, smoothing out the blanket over Gavin’s legs. “You slept late.”

Gavin had to know, he had to ask. “RK900...” He began to say, but as soon as he did, the android’s LED went red.

“What?” He actually looked put off, confused, like Gavin had addressed him as Connor or something. It was Gavin’s turn to frown, then, watching his reaction.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Gavin pressed, wondering why he reacted like this. Unlike Connor, his supposed-to-be-replacement had never been assigned a name by Cyberlife. It would have been cruel, to call Connor by his model number, but for Gavin’s partner, he seemed to prefer it, at least over the dozens of other insulting nicknames Gavin threw at him. Gavin prompted him again, “RK900?”

“Yes, but,” the android hesitated. “I do not recall the last time you addressed me as such.”

“You can’t pull that up in your little memory bank?” Gavin reached out and tapped RK900’s temple, just next to his LED, leaving his fingers there as if he could draw the information out.

RK900 hesitated. “It was five years ago, today.”

“Five years,” Gavin repeated, his voice a rush of breath as anything and everything he planned on collapsed under the weight of those words. Five years. His hand clenched into a fist next to RK900’s head.

“I know it’s hard for you, Gavin,” the android said quietly. He laid his hand over Gavin’s, then, holding Gavin’s rough hand flat against his impossibly smooth face, undoing his tension. “This day. But you are fine.”

“Look, tin can,” Gavin said. He was surprised at how hard it was to pull his hand away. Surprised at how sweet the android was being. That was the proof, right there, that something was wrong. “I gotta - I gotta fucking try to call Tina.”

“Okay,” RK900 said.

“Okay?” Gavin repeated. He had expected an argument, some type of comment, as usual.

“Yes,” RK900 said simply. He stood up. “I will make sure your breakfast stays warm, for when you’re ready.”

Gavin watched him leave the room, closing the door behind him. It took him a long time to finally pull up Tina’s contact info on his phone. Five years, he thought wildly. His mind was numb as he called her. But there was no answer once more, just straight to voicemail.

The phone dropped onto the bed. Gavin stared down at it. The new sheets, the new blankets, the new comforter. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a new mattress, too. So many new things in this apartment, things he didn’t remember buying or asking for. He twisted the ring around his finger, contemplating taking it off, and then doing so, laying it on the bedside table next to his coffee cup. He stared at it, the little piece of gold that symbolized a union Gavin didn’t remember or even remotely want. Five years.

Was it really possible? Had all this time passed and Gavin simply couldn’t remember it? But even that reasoning, bizarre as it was, could not explain everything. This day was beginning and ending over and over again, and nobody seemed to notice except him. Was this even real? Had the last five years even really happened? No, they hadn’t. He was definitely fucking losing it.

Gavin left the bedroom, not bothering to close the door, though he did pull a shirt on, one he actually remembered owning. He padded out to the kitchen, where RK900 stood wiping down the counters. He looked completely and utterly at home.

“What is today’s date?” Gavin asked.

“June 5th, 2044,” RK900 said over his shoulder.

“How long have we been married?” Gavin asked blankly.

The android - his partner - his husband? - turned to face him, looking curious. “Three years, two months and seventeen days.”

“Okay,” Gavin said. “I want to see.”

“What, specifically?” RK900 asked, not moving from his place at the counter. He looked stiff now, nervous almost. “What’s wrong?”

“The pictures of us,” Gavin said. “I know you take them. With your eyes.”

And at that, RK900 really did look pissed, his face tightening. “Gavin,” he said patiently, “you know that is something I cannot control.”

“What, recording fucking everything you see?” Gavin shot back. He remembered finding out about it for the first time, towards the beginning of their assignment as partners. It was certainly useful, for work purposes. For personal purposes, Gavin wasn’t sure, but he knew the memories were in there, memories Gavin had no recollection of. “You’ve always done it.”

“Yes,” RK900 said in a firm voice, making it clear he would accept no further argument. “I don’t have a choice. You know I don’t feel comfortable sharing those images with you. We have already discussed this issue at length and while I know today is difficult for you, I won’t stand here and accept you acting this way.”

“We have discussed this issue at length? ” Gavin repeated, his voice raising. “Maybe you remember this, but I can assure you, I fucking do not in the slightest. And maybe I am crazy, maybe I am really losing it, but I know what I know, which is that you are a cold, stuck up asshole who thinks makes fucking waffles will solve all of my problems. I don’t know you at all. And you know nothing about me, RK fucking 900.”

At that, the android pushed away from the counter and walked past Gavin, not looking at him, his head held high. “You clearly need some time alone,” he said calmly.

“Yeah, fucking clearly,” Gavin spat.

Meatball followed RK900 to the entrance to the apartment, meowing as he grabbed his jacket. He gave her one last little pat and then closed the door behind him, leaving Gavin alone and his cat crying at the door.

Gavin broke everything in the apartment. The french press, the food processor, the fancy new juicer he hated, every dish in the washer and the cabinet, all the knick knacks on the shelves, all the records in his collection. It wouldn’t matter anyway, would it? Would this all be back tomorrow? He moved from room to room in a daze, smashing everything he could find, though he left the bedroom untouched. Meatball had taken refuge inside, and once Gavin was exhausted and the afternoon was beginning to wane away, Gavin joined her, closing the door so she couldn’t get out and hurt herself. She didn't even want to curl up next to him; she sat at the edge of the bed and stared at him disapprovingly.

He hoped RK900 came home and saw everything fucked up and just left it like that. Or that he didn’t come home at all, because this wasn’t his home, it wasn’t. And then Gavin could see it in the morning, see the mess he had made the day before, see how alone he was, and know at least he had made some kind of impact on the hours that had passed.

RK900 didn’t come home before Gavin fell asleep.

~

Gavin woke up alone in his bed with the blinds open. His cat was nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath, his lungs catching as he smelled the unmistakable truth: somebody was cooking waffles.

“What is my fucking life,” Gavin said aloud, pressing his fists into his eyes. His ring pressed against his brow, digging into the skin, a reminder. He didn’t even bother looking at his phone.

He went into the kitchen. RK900 was there with his back to Gavin. Meatball sat on the counter. She meowed. There was a cup of coffee next to the French press. Gavin didn’t take it. Everything he had broken was back in its perfect place, good as new. A clean, tidy apartment. This was the life he and RK900 lived together.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Gavin tried. He fought back the shudder at addressing an android as such. RK900 might have been his partner - his, whatever the fuck - but that didn’t mean Gavin was cool with it. But this was a puzzle, a case he had to solve, something he had to understand.

RK900 slowly turned. His LED went yellow, then red, then yellow again. “Are you sick?”

“No, just, you know, happy to see my husband,” Gavin said brightly. He felt nauseated. He was sure RK900 was scanning him, reading his heartbeat and sweat and whatever else.

“Gavin,” RK900 said, stepping forward. He was frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“God damn, am I really that much of an asshole?” Gavin exploded, freezing RK900 in place, LED red again. “Aren’t we married? Doesn’t that mean I’m supposed to be like, nice to you and shit?”

“Nice?” RK900 frowned even further. Gavin would have laughed, if it he wasn’t so fucking pissed. “I doubt anyone would describe you as such.”

“Yeah, fucking thanks, sweetheart, ” Gavin growled. “I get it.”

“Gavin,” RK900 said. He put his hands on Gavin’s shoulders, keeping him in place. “I’m sorry. I know today isn’t a good day. But it is only one day. We can make it through that.”

“No, we fucking can’t,” Gavin said. Despite himself, he slumped forward, letting his forehead hit RK900’s chest. Gavin had always imagined his body as being like a boulder, hard as steel. But he felt human, warm and muscular. Gavin could feel the beat of his thirium pump in his chest. It was calm, steady, nothing like Gavin’s own heartbeat.

He sighed as RK900’s arms slipped around him. Gavin could almost do it, fully lean into him and accept his embrace. But - it wasn’t right. He didn’t know RK900, not really. He may have been a person, sure. But to Gavin, he was practically a stranger.

He stepped away, shrugging off RK900’s arms. “I - I think I’m gonna take a walk.”

He barely registered where he was walking, and once it started getting dark, he headed home, grateful he still lived in the same place and he knew the route so well. RK900 was in stasis on the couch, no doubt waiting for him. Gavin ignored him and headed straight into the bedroom, crawling under the blankets alone.

~

10:16 AM June 5th

The room was too bright. Gavin wished the blinds would just stay closed. He wished RK900 would just come in and close them. Didn’t he know Gavin well enough by now? Didn’t he know to come in and check on him already? How many fucking waffles was he making? He stared at the phone, watching the minutes tick by, confirming, at least, that time was passing in some measurable way.

10:21 AM June 5th

There was a knock at the door, a voice from the other side of the room as it opened. Gavin quickly tucked his phone under the pillow and turned towards the wall, pretending he was still asleep. RK900 could probably tell he wasn't just by scanning him, but he did it anyway, too cowardly to face the android. He held his breath as the bed dipped with the weight of RK900's frame on its edge. There was a sound, a cup put down on the bedside table, and the smell of fresh black coffee, and the blanket being smoothed out over him, a touch, a hand on his shoulder, just three small little circles, and then, he was gone.

~

Gavin woke up twisted in his sheets and he realized, quite suddenly, that he hadn't showered yet.

“You smell like ham boiled in sweat,” he muttered mockingly. “Fuck you.”

It was now his seventh June 5th morning. He wondered if his body had really lived through each day, or if everything was getting reset at night. Was he aging? He had already aged to - whatever he was now, forty one, god dammit. Meatball had gotten older, too, that was obvious now. RK900 looked the same, of course. He would never age. Gavin hated that about him. Maybe hated was the wrong word. Envied, he supposed. He wouldn't ever admit it out loud, though.

Gavin rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom first, instead of the kitchen. He took a long, long shower, letting the hot water pound into his skin and numb his brain and body. There were dozens of weird, fancy products around the immaculately organized bathroom, the very bathroom Gavin had trashed two days ago. Gavin had always been pretty vain about his appearance, but never like this. And it wasn’t like androids had to shower or wash themselves up or whatever, at least not that Gavin knew of. Five years was a long time, long enough to develop new hobbies, Gavin supposed.

At this point, he felt almost giddy. He had probably randomly died and here he was just reliving the same day over and over again. It was like some kind of purgatory before he finally got dropped into hell, because that was definitely where he was headed. He wondered if hell would have as many waffles.

Gavin finally got out of the shower, and as he toweled himself off and looked in the mirror, he really examined his appearance. The scar across his chest wasn’t the only change; he had a few more wrinkles, more grey threading through his hair. He didn’t look as bad as he had expected he would, though, at forty-one years old. God damn.

He resisted the urge to put his fist through the mirror, drawing on whatever memory still existed of therapy he may have received in the last half a decade. Instead he dressed and finally, finally left the bathroom, knowing he had to face RK900 sooner or later.

But, he wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t in the living room either. Both, of course, were completely clean and tidy, all of Gavin’s items back where they had been the day before, before his outburst which he was quickly becoming ashamed of. Gavin walked into the bedroom, not expecting to see him there either, but he did finally open up his bedside table drawer to check his phone.

11:18 AM. June 5th.

Of course it was. And on the screen was an alert that Gavin swiped open:

Father Meatball
Sent 10:36 AM

I went to run some errands. There is breakfast in the oven. Text me if you need anything.

Gavin gaped at his phone. Father Meatball?  

He swiped his thumb up, reading message after message of his conversations with RK900, the two of them discussing plans they had, things they had to buy. Nothing about work, which made Gavin’s stomach queasy for some reason, maybe even more than the lovey-dovey stuff. That was fucking weird, so weird Gavin could almost dismiss it as another random misfiring of his dead brain. But the work shit, that actually meant something to him. If five years had passed, and they weren’t partners anymore, what had happened? Maybe Fowler had said they couldn’t work together anymore, after they - well, got fucking married, apparently.

Gavin quickly closed out of his texts, realizing he was breathing heavily. He didn’t want to stop working with RK900. Even if they didn’t get along - or hadn’t? - they worked incredibly fucking well with each other. In the six months they had been assigned together, they had solved every single case they had worked. Except the one they were currently on. Or, fuck, the one they had been working on before - whatever. Everyone said it, how good they were together, though they usually said it like it was the shock of the century. Which, Gavin supposed it was, kind of, that they fought so much and yet somehow solved every single case they were handed. Their professional styles just happened to mesh, that was all. They were getting more attention from Fowler, building up a reputation - an actually good one, as opposed to the two of them just being known as the resident assholes. It was no surprise RK900 was being targeted for an FBI transfer.

But had he taken it? In this - dream, salvia trip, whatever - five years had passed. What had happened?

Gavin found he was still holding the phone in his hand. He tried calling Tina, already knowing it would go right to voicemail. He thought about calling RK900, but what would he say?

“I’ve been reliving the same day over and over,” Gavin said out loud, mocking his own voice. “I didn’t know we were married and I lost five years of my life, I just destroyed everything in my apartment that I guess you probably decorated. And oh, by the way, do we still work together? Because you’re the only partner I’ve tolerated for more than a month and I wouldn’t even blame you for leaving me because I’m a complete and utter piece of shit.”

He realized Meatball had followed him into the bedroom and she was laying across the bed, purring and waiting for attention. Gavin scooped her up and headed into the kitchen. Fuck it, he was trapped in some fucking afterlife, timeturner, Interstellar time loop bullshit. He might as well enjoy some of those waffles.

~

When RK900 returned a couple of hours later, Gavin was sitting on the couch. Having finally figured out how to turn on the tv, he had been absorbed in the news for hours now.

“Are you feeling well?” RK900 asked dryly as he entered. "You don't usually like to subject yourself to the twenty-four hour news cycle."

“No, not usually,” Gavin said, muting the television. “A lot can change in five years, huh?”

“It can,” RK900 agreed. He hung up his jacket by the door and walked towards the couch. “Did I miss something?”

“No, just - it’s really fucking crazy, how much things have changed since the revolution.” Gavin swiped his hand through his hair and sprawled back against the couch, sipping the beer he had found in the fridge, some brand he didn’t recognize. He was unsure how to word this. What would happen, if he told RK900 what was happening? He decided not to risk it, saying instead, “Androids getting elected, Cyberlife reopening, fuckin’ ice cream and booze and drugs for androids and shit. Androids and people getting married and nobody gives a shit anymore. I really never thought I’d see the day.” RK900 couldn’t know just how much Gavin meant that statement.

“You were quite intolerable when we first met,” RK900 said, joining him on the couch. He put a hand on his knee that Gavin didn’t push away. He focused on it, instead, knowing for sure now that he had to be dead or dreaming, because there was no way otherwise that this could be happening. “I wonder what changed.”

“Probably your annoying ass," Gavin blurted out.

“Probably,” RK900 agreed.

Gavin hesitated for a second. He almost wanted to apologize for being such a dick. But he realized that for this RK900, the one sitting in front of him right now, the memories of their first meeting were buried under five and a half years of time spent together. Surely the android had forgiven him a long time ago. Maybe Gavin had apologized at some point already. And the things Gavin had said over the last few days - well, RK900 didn’t remember those. It was like they had never even happened.

“Hey, can you tell me exactly how long we’ve been married?” Gavin asked. “Like, to the minute.”

“It will surely be a struggle, but for you, I will endure.”

That actually made Gavin laugh. “Okay asshole, don't hurt yourself."

“We’ve been married three years, two months, seventeen days, fifteen hours, forty four minutes and twenty one, twenty two - “

“Yeah, alright, alright.” Gavin took a sip of his beer, hiding his smile. “Very impressive.”

“Did you eat?” RK900 said, giving his leg a final squeeze before starting to rise gracefully from the couch. “The farmer’s market is finally open.”

“Uh, cool,” Gavin said. He suddenly reached out and grabbed RK900’s wrist, an odd thrum of panic racing through him. But of course the android just sat back down next to him, looking concerned.

“What’s wrong, Gavin?” he asked.

“I, uh - “ Gavin cleared his throat. “I miss those days. When we first, uh, met. First became friends.”

RK900’s eyes narrowed slightly. He shifted on the couch, leaning forward just so, focusing on Gavin. “What do you mean?”

“When we first met,” Gavin repeated, taking another too-large sip of his beer. He was hoping to get some kind of information, hear something that answered one of his questions or filled in some memory he had forgotten. “You know, we were partners for a while and then, you know…”

“You are intoxicated,” RK900 deduced. “You forget how things were when we first met.”

“That was a long time ago,” Gavin said. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward too, curiously. “What was it like? You have a better memory than I do, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” RK900 said. He gently removed Gavin’s hand from his wrist, finally, and held it between his own palms instead. “You know that I don’t like to talk about it,” he said quietly, and Gavin paused, watching him, the way his LED whirled yellow just for a moment, and the sight of it made it feel like his chest was splitting open right where that scar was.

“You don’t ever go back and watch those days?” Gavin asked. Those days. His days, the days he had been living before all of this. The person that he was, right then, right now, not after five years.

RK900 squeezed his hand. “No,” he said gently.

“Was it really that bad?” Gavin suddenly, desperately, terribly, needed to know.

“You are a different man now, Gavin,” RK900 said. "You are capable of great change. It's one reason I love you." He was studying Gavin, his eyes focused entirely on him and only him. The android was right, Gavin was intoxicated, but maybe not so much by the alcohol. If they had been married for three years, two months, and seventeen days, they had certainly spent at least some of that time fucking. For Gavin to get tied down - to a fucking android - the sex really had to be out of control.

And why the hell was Gavin thinking about this exactly? Five seconds ago he had been utterly heartbroken at the idea of hurting the android’s feelings with his shit personality. He quickly stood up, grabbing his beer. Yeah, sure, five years had passed, but Gavin didn’t remember shit. This wasn’t his husband, maybe technically, but not in reality. He really barely knew RK900, when it came down to it. Six months of being partners, and Gavin had never really even bothered. He didn’t know what the android liked to do, if anything, or how he felt about android politics, or what movies he liked or didn't like, if he even thought of things like that, or what foods he could cook besides waffles. Gavin had no idea about anything. He could do it now, take an interest in him, get to know RK900 as he must have years before. In that way, it felt like it didn't even matter anymore whether he did that or not. Anything he did on this day, RK900 would forget about anyway.

For some reason, he still felt like it mattered.

“I’ll make dinner,” Gavin said stiffly. “Thanks for shopping.”

~

RK900 joined him at the table, once the pasta was ready. Despite the fancy and undoubtedly expensive new gadgets, everything was basically laid out the same, like cooking in a simulation. Gavin eventually figured it out, surprised at how organized the fridge and cabinets were, though he supposed he should have known. He couldn’t help it, he was grateful the universe had decided to reset after his outburst, erasing any evidence of the mess he had created.

Gavin had asked RK900 if he wanted anything, but he seemed content to sip on what Gavin was pretty sure was supposed to be wine made of thirium. Gavin was also pretty sure it would fuck him up, perhaps fatally, but he still wanted to try it. Hell, maybe that was what would break him out of this insanity.

“Can I try that?” Gavin asked, pointing at the glass. RK900 paused with his mouth half open.

“Gavin, you hate thirium.” He shook his head. “And yet you ask me every single time if you can taste it. You truly amaze me.”

For a moment, Gavin had been sure RK900 was about to call him out for acting weird, different than his usual, normal, forty-one-year old self. He had been sure of it, a couple of times, and yet it hadn’t happened yet. The only time he had seemed concerned about Gavin's behavior was when Gavin had said something nice to him. RK900 just seemed to accept him as he was. Which made Gavin wonder, did he always act like a stupid asshole? Because that was all he had been for days now.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” Gavin blurted out. “Something just like - fucking mind numbingly stupid. Because that’s how I feel right now.”

RK900’s smirk softened into a fond smile. “Despite your very best efforts, you are not stupid, Gavin Reed. You are perfect as you are now, and as you are becoming.”

He leaned forward across the table, pressing a kiss to the side of Gavin’s mouth like before. Gavin didn’t pull away, too stunned at the android’s words. RK900 kissed up the side of his jaw, up to his ear, and the entire time Gavin felt like he was about to pass the fuck out. He had to get his shit together, he had to focus, he had to...

“Uh, just, um, wait a second,” Gavin stuttered out, realizing he was about to start leaning into his partner’s touch and pulling back just in time. His mind was blank, his body both frozen to the chair and ready to fly straight off into space. “I need to - call, uh, Tina.”

“Okay,” RK900 said again, nodding and accepting Gavin's pathetic excuse without a shred of suspicion. He trusted Gavin, that much was clear. Of course, he should have. They were married, after all. Gavin wondered what he had done to earn all of this.

“Why don’t you pick a movie and we’ll just clean up later,” Gavin said, clearing his throat as he stood up, practically running off. “I’ll be right back.”

He retreated into the bedroom, catching his breath, and then finally pulled his phone from his pocket, calling Tina again. He actually did want to talk to her, of course he did. But it went straight to voicemail, of course. This time, Gavin texted her.

Gavin Reed
sent 05:18 PM

Hey could you call me please?

Teeny Weeny
sent 5:19 PM

Sorry Gab my phone is broke I dropped it in the toilet this morning I can only talk to text okay love you

Gavin Reed
Sent 5:19 PM

Dude…

Teeny Weeny
Sent 5:20 PM

Do not dude me lieutenant dude I will get a new one I will see you tomorrow okay

Sent 5:20 PM

Are you okay

Gavin Reed
Sent 5:26 PM

What do you mean

Sent 5:27 PM

Tina come on.. You know i hate that

Teeny Weeny
Sent 5:28 PM

Sorry I forgot about your sensitivities

Sent 5:28 PM

I’m just checking that’s all just make sure you give are kay a big kiss no I said are kay no I said are kay

Sent 5:29 PM

Are kay bitch

Gavin Reed
Sent 5:30 PM

What the hell

Sent 5:31 PM

See you tomorrow

This was good. Things were going differently than usual, much differently. Having Tina answer seemed like an especially good sign. See you tomorrow. Gavin liked the sound of that. He really liked the sound of that. The sooner it came, the better, whether it was a real tomorrow, or June 6th tomorrow, or just a repeated one. He had something to grip onto. At least, in some way, he was moving forward.

Movie forgotten, Gavin crawled into the bed and shut off the lights, though he was too nervous, too excited, to fall asleep. He wondered if RK900 slept in here, too. He hadn't yet, since the start of all this. Androids didn’t need to sleep, anyway. But they also didn’t need to eat or drink or fuck or marry, and apparently they did all of those things, RK900 included.

Gavin wrapped himself in the blanket and groaned into the pillow. He couldn’t think about this shit. It felt wrong. This was just a fucking trip, or dream, or existential crisis. He was running out of explanations for it. What if he was suddenly transported back to that day, the real June 5th, in 2039 where he belonged? The day he and RK900 had argued, the day he had stormed out of his partner’s apartment after hearing what Perkins was offering. RK900 had chosen to tell him in his home, his space, instead of in the car, or at the station. Gavin didn’t know why. And he didn’t know where he had gone from there.

Why was that the last thing that Gavin remembered? What had triggered this entire fucking absurdity? What time had it been, that he had walked out of RK900’s place? Ten am? There was no way it was that early. Except - it was, because Gavin had taken a very early lunch break in order to drive RK900 home after his morning meeting.

Gavin’s mind raced as he tried to remember. But though the date hadn’t changed, multiple days had undeniably passed, or least it felt as though they had. Gavin’s memory was becoming fuzzy. He tried to focus, to draw on every detail he could remember, not only from that day but from the previous June fifths he had just lived through. Something had gone undeniably wrong, to put Gavin in this situation. There was no good explanation for it.

And why had Tina also called him Lieutenant?

Just as Gavin’s mind finally calmed and he felt himself drifting off, the bedroom door opened, letting a sliver of light cut across the floor. Gavin saw RK900’s undeniable frame in the doorway.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice quiet. “I put dinner away.”

“No,” Gavin said. I’m sorry, he wanted to add. Instead, he said, “Thanks. For cleaning up.”

RK900 stepped into the room, and within a few moments Gavin felt his weight sink down onto the mattress next to Gavin. He laid his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. Reflected on the wall in the dark, Gavin could see RK900's LED turn from yellow to blue as soon as he touched Gavin.

“You can tell me anything, Gavin,” RK900 said quietly.

Yeah, it doesn’t matter what I say, you’re going to forget tomorrow anyway, Gavin thought.

“I know,” he said instead. It was still the truth. The ring sat heavy on his finger, but he wouldn’t dare take it off in front of RK900. As the android stood up and moved away, Gavin called out, “Hey, what movie did you choose?”

“We can watch it another time,” RK900 said, turning to look at Gavin one last time. “Get some rest. I’ll leave the door open so Meatball can come in.”

He disappeared into the living area. It was strange, but Gavin had almost been hoping that RK900 would stay.

~

Gavin was opening the drawer as soon as he woke up.

10:01 AM. June 5th

Gavin called Tina.

“Hey bud,” she said brightly after the phone rang three times. “How are you doing?”

Gavin practically leapt out of bed. “Tina!” he exclaimed, desperate and relieved and hysterical all at once. “Oh, fuck yes, thank god, hell yes. Holy fuck, I’ve got some fucking shit I need to talk to you about.”

“What,” she said. He could practically see her little suspicious frown. “What did you do now?”

“You have no fucking idea, dude. I just need your advice.”

“Is this about RK?” she asked sharply.

“What? I mean, yeah, of course it is, sort of,” Gavin said impatiently. “Look, he’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s just fine. I just need - can we go get a coffee or something?” Gavin realized he hadn’t left his apartment in days now, not since he had gotten stuck in this - whatever.

“I’m at work,” Tina said. “Today’s not a national holiday, you know, though you might think it is.” She was teasing, but it was a little softer than what he was used to coming from Tina.

“Well, guess I played hooky today, who cares,” he said. “Anyway, come on, take an early lunch. I need you. I’m not being a dramatic fuck either, I really mean it.”

“Alright, Gav,” she said with a sigh. “Wanna meet at Java Chip in like thirty minutes?”

“Sure,” Gavin said, grateful she mentioned a place he knew of.

“Want the usual? I’ll order now.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Gavin said, curious what his usual was now.

“What about R, does he want anything?”

RK, or just R. That was what he liked to be called, now. “Maybe I’ll bring something back for him but - I really need to talk to you alone.”

“Okay, Gavin, I hope everything’s alright,” she sighed. “I’ll see you over there.”

Gavin took a two minute shower, brushed his teeth, changed his clothes and then darted into the kitchen, into the overwhelming smell of what he knew were perfect tasting waffles. He grabbed the coffee mug that was sitting on the counter next to the french press, as he knew it would be. Meatball meowed. RK turned to glance at him.

“You’re in a rush today,” he commented.

“I gotta meet up with Tina,” Gavin said breathlessly, chugging down the coffee. “It’s an emergency.”

RK paused and turned to fully face him. His LED turned from blue to yellow for a few moments, looking down at him. “How are you?” he asked.

“Can you give me the time?” Gavin asked, patting down his clothes looking for his phone.

“It is 10:18 am,” RK said. “Sixty four degrees, partly cloudy, with - “

“That’s okay, I just needed the time,” Gavin said. He found his phone in his back pocket, and briefly, he looked at the screen, at the picture of the two of them, laughing together. Another lifetime. “I’ll be back really soon.”

“I’ll put the waffles away,” RK said. He reached down and picked up Meatball from where she was circling around his feet.

Gavin felt a pang of guilt, for brushing RK’s breakfast away so easily, made even worse by the fact that RK was just so fucking chill about it. Gavin knew it was delicious, he knew he would enjoy it. But he had to talk to Tina. And if her phone broke and he couldn’t get in touch with her anymore, that window would be closed again, until tomorrow, at least. A perpetual tomorrow.

“Hey,” Gavin said. “Thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” RK said. Gavin felt like the natural thing to do would be to cross the room, lean up and kiss his partner right on the mouth. That was what he should do, right, if he was going to be playing along with this. Otherwise, he would just treat RK like shit, right? Because who cared? He didn’t like the guy. It wasn’t like he’d remember anything tomorrow.

But Gavin didn’t want to treat RK like shit. This RK had married his pathetic ass, he couldn’t forget. What the fuck had changed between them, in the last five years? What had happened? He supposed he could ask but.... how?

He had to hear it from someone else. Gavin just gave RK a strained smile and then turned out of the apartment.

~

Luckily Java Chip was a short walk from Gavin’s apartment, only a few blocks away from the DPD. It was a miracle the coffee shop was still open after all these years. It was a good feeling. He had searched everywhere through his pockets, but hadn’t found a single cigarette. He hadn’t really craved them, he realized, not since he had started repeating his days. Maybe he had quit. That would really be a miracle.

Gavin had texted Tina that he was getting close, and as he came up to the building he saw her waving from one of the outdoor tables. She stood as he approached, giving him a tight hug before he could even say hello.

“How are you feeling?” she said as she pulled back, keeping her hands on his arms. “Your phone call worried me a little bit.”

It was strange, looking at her. She looked so similar to how she had looked the last time Gavin saw her. Her hair was longer, though still jet black, unlike Gavin’s own greying hair. Her skin looked great, her eyes were bright. She looked happy. He saw she still wore her wedding ring. It felt like only three months ago that he had attended Tina’s wedding, but for her, she had been married almost six years. Seeing her, seeing the way the years had undeniably passed, grounded him. It made him feel awake, instead of that dreamlike, exhausted state he had maintained since this all began.

He felt like it had been only days since they had last spoken, back at the station that morning of his fight with RK900. And to Tina, this was probably just another day. But there were five years worth of lost memories between them, and Gavin had to know what he had missed.

“Has anything, like, weird been happening to you recently?” he asked as they settled down on the table. She had gotten him a white chocolate mocha, probably with an extra shot of espresso judging by the taste. He couldn’t believe this was his usual these days, but he had to admit it was pretty good. There were an assortment of different pastries in the bag she offered him. Gavin took a raspberry one and continued. “I’m talking like, really weird, Tina. Like seriously fucking freaky shit.”

“Are we talking spiritually or like, sexually?” she said, thoughtfully choosing a little vanilla scone.

“Uh, I’m talking like - “ He hesitated, leaning forward. He had to tell her everything. “I’m having these weird - I don’t know, dreams, or hallucinations. Like I’m living the same day over and over again. I don’t know, my days have been a little bit different, but - every day the date says it’s June 5th.”

“Every day,” Tina repeated. “Like, how many days do you mean?”

“So far, ten,” Gavin said.

“You’ve lived the same day ten times,” she repeated. She sipped her ice coffee as she waited for an answer.

“Not exactly the same,” Gavin admitted. “I do different things sometimes. You don’t sound very fucking shocked by this, Tina.”

“Not much you say surprises me,” she said. “What usually happens?”

“RK900 - uh, RK, he’s always cooking waffles when I wake up, the cat is on the counter, he leaves to run errands, he doesn’t act like anything is out of the ordinary. I would try to call you, but you wouldn’t answer. I trashed a bunch of shit in the apartment, but the next morning everything was back in its place. Always the same.”

“Damn,” she said, sounding chagrined. “I’m a shitty friend even in your dreams.”

“Well, eventually I got you, yesterday, actually. Which you wouldn’t remember, since for you, that’s today, and it’s the first time you’re living it. But yesterday, you told me you broke your phone, and that’s why you weren’t answering. So,” he shrugged. “Not shitty.”

“I haven’t broken it yet, so, maybe this is a different day.” She took another bite of her scone. “Unless the fact that we were able to talk somehow upset the fabric of space and time and changed the events of history. Anyway, are you fucking high?”

“No, Tina, I’m not high,” he said, exasperated. “I’m just - I’m fucking confused, all right! This is so hard to explain, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“What did R say?”

“What?” Gavin blinked at her, processing her question. “Uh - I don’t know. I haven’t really tried to talk to him about it.”

“Why?” she asked. Now, she looked genuinely surprised.

“Because I just haven’t,” Gavin said hotly. “Why is that weird?”

“Um, maybe because you’re fucking married and obsessed with each other and I kind of thought you already communicated telepathically,” she said, finishing her scone just as Gavin choked on a sip of coffee.

“We are not,” he coughed, “obsessed.”

“Oh, don’t be absurd.” She shrugged, grabbing another scone out of the bag. “Anyway, it’s not fair to him to keep stuff from him. If there’s something bothering you, you gotta get it out and deal with it. You guys have been together for like five years, you know the drill.”

"This isn't just some minor inconvenience, Tina! This is some crazy shit! This is - wait," Gavin's mind caught up to his mouth.

Five years.

“Tina,” he said, “today’s date. June 5th. What does it mean to you?”

She scratched her chin, eyeing him from behind her sunglasses. “That’s an interesting question, Gavin. It means a lot to me, actually.”

“And what does it mean to me?” he asked. Everything seemed to be slowing down, placing the two of them at the center of a tornado. “What happened on this day Tina? To me?”

“You don’t remember,” she suddenly said, reading the expression on his face.

“I don’t remember anything,” he hissed. “Nothing from the last five years, Tina. Five motherfucking years!”

“What is the last thing you remember?” She pressed him.

“Me and RK - argued,” he admitted. It felt like a confession, telling her that, especially after what she has said. “I didn’t want him to take that FBI job he got offered, back when he was first getting settled on the force. I was pretty pissed. I stormed out, and then I think, I don’t know, I went and got drunk somewhere, so drunk I transcended time itself, I guess.”

As he spoke, Tina’s eyes had grown wider and wider until her sunglasses had slipped down her nose and she was full on staring at him.

“So that was the last thing you did,” she said, understanding.

“Come on Tina,” he pleaded. “Tell me what this means. You’ve known me for years. More years than I’ve known you, at least right now. Just tell me the truth.”

She let out a long, whistling breath. “Hoo boy. Can’t say I foresaw this conversation going this way.”

“What the fuck do you mean,” Gavin said.

“Okay, you need to just sit here and listen to what I have to say, because I can see all the patience you have developed in the last five years is completely gone,” Tina said. “Five years ago today, yeah, R got offered the FBI position. I remember you guys leaving the precinct together afterwards, at the time I thought it was to celebrate that you’d be out of each other’s way soon enough.”

"Why would we celebrate that?"

"Uh, are you not in the thick of that shit right now? The hate-fueled crime-solving duo? This was before you guys got together. God, so fucking weird thinking about that shit now. I mean, for you, that was like, the other day. For me, that was back when I thought you guys would beat the shit out of each other just about every shift. But no, you just had to be all competent and shit." Tina's eyes narrowed and she adjusted her sunglasses. "Unless that was just a ruse to cover up the fact that you were aggressively hate-fucking."

"Look, as of my experience right now, we're fucking good partners," Gavin hissed, his face red. "That's it. I don't necessarily wanna hang out with the guy or anything."

"As of right now."

"Right, yeah, I guess," Gavin said. "Stop going off topic. So I gave RK a ride. We had a fight, I was a sort of a dick, I left. And then?"

“And then…” Her lighthearted, teasing tone gave way to hesitation. She then laid her hand over Gavin’s and looked him straight in the eyes. “You were in an accident, Gav. It wasn’t your fault. You... you really don’t remember?”

“No, I fucking don’t,” he said, his hand going to the scar on his chest, covered by his shirt. He could feel his heart pounding. “What do you mean, a fucking accident?”

“It was pretty bad,” Tina said slowly.  “You got hit by a car, right outside R’s place on the corner, crossing the street. I’ll spare you the details.”

Gavin felt lightheaded. “I don’t - the last thing I remember is leaving RK900’s apartment.”

“When I got the call and got over there, it was - it was pretty bad, Gavin. They weren’t sure what was gonna happen.” He knew she was being diplomatic, could hear it in her voice. “When I got there he was holding you. He was fucking losing it, dude.”

“What the fuck,” Gavin breathed. He felt like his vision was darkening on the edges, like he might pass out on the table right then.

“He sat every day in that hospital room with you,” Tina continued. “He wouldn’t leave your side. Wouldn’t go back to his place, wouldn’t go to work. Fowler just gave him a month’s paid time off and said fuck it, he wouldn’t be able to work in the state he was in anyway. Not without you.”

“He stayed with me,” Gavin said, stupefied.

“Yeah, you fucking idiot,” Tina said. She squeezed his hand. “We were so worried about you, but about him, too. Nobody had ever seen him like that. Even Connor was afraid. He called Markus and everything. He and Hank took on all your cases.”

“But - I lived,” Gavin said stupidly, not understanding. “I got better.”

“Yeah, and once you got released he went home with you, and he kind of never left, as you always say,” Tina said, grinning now. She spread her hands in front of her. “And voila, the rest is history.”

“Okay, what the fuck,” Gavin said. He dropped his face into his hands. “You can't yadda yadda yadda the last five years. None of this makes any fucking sense. So I was hit by a car?”

“Yep,” Tina said.

“I almost fucking died.”

“A-yep.”

“And then,” Gavin said, his voice getting progressively more hysterical, “I jumped forward five years into the future to where I am married to my dickhead partner who doesn’t even like me, and now I am reliving this same mundane day over and over for some god damn reason. He is making me waffles, Tina. Every morning he makes me fucking waffles.”

“I think that sounds great. You know I love me some good waffles, and his are the best.”

“That’s beside the point,” Gavin said hotly. “How do I go back? How do I get back the last five years?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to.”

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to,” she repeated. “When I saw you at the accident, you - weren’t really saying much. But RK told me afterwards that you said to him, when I ask tell Tina to say that everything will be okay. I swear it on Danielle’s life,” she added at Gavin’s look towards. “You know I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Wait, so - “ Gavin gulped down the rest of his drink, feeling like his lungs were about to collapse. “You knew about this?!”

“Of course not, you fucking shithead,” she said in exasperation. “I thought your brain was just firing off some random shit before - you know. Once you recovered, you guys got together, you got married, and then you got the promotion this year… everything just seemed to be falling into place. But you never asked me if you or RK would be okay, or anything remotely close to that. I just kinda figured it was one of those things, I don’t know.” She shrugged and began searching the bag for another scone. “Fuck, I know there’s one more in here.”

“Wait - the promotion?” Gavin clutched his empty cup so tightly he thought it would collapse in his hand.

“Yeah, Gav,” Tina said, flashing him a little smile. “Is that why you got mad about what I said? You didn’t remember?”

“I made Lieutenant,” Gavin breathed. His head was spinning.

“You’ve done a lot of shit, bud,” Tina said, overly cheerful. “Pity you don’t remember it. I guess it'll be cool to hear the news again, like it's the first time."

“I just - fuck, this is so insane! This is not just ‘one of those things’, Tina. This is crazy.” Gavin was ranting now, but he couldn’t stop. “I don’t think everything is gonna be okay. I’m married to a fucking android. I got the promotion I always fucking dreamed of, that’s great I guess, but I’m stuck reliving the same stupid, boring day off from that job over and over again until - what? Did I die in that accident? Like, am I in fucking purgatory?”

“Look Gavin.” Tina laid her hand on his arm, giving his wrist a comforting squeeze. “I can’t explain to you what’s happening right now. I haven’t the slightest fucking clue. To me, this is real. This is just another day. Yesterday was June 4th, tomorrow is June 6th. And both of those days, I think, you're happy with RK. Today is always shitty for you, every year. I can tell you that. I don't know what you go through, but I know it's not easy."

She didn't let go of his arm, making him look at her. "Something I do know is that in the last five years, you’ve definitely changed. You should know that about yourself. You’ve become a better person, I don’t know how else to say it. I mean, you were fine before, I guess, at least to me. You’re just - more patient, or something. More considerate. You're happier, you take better care of yourself, you go out and do fun shit instead of moping around drinking like you did when we first met. You’ll never be a fucking gentleman, but hell, R is a good influence on you. And…” She trailed off, sitting back in her chair. “You love him, Gavin.”

“No I don’t.”

“You married him, you fucking asshole. And he loves you, like really loves you, like Jack and Rose, Pride and Prejudice, I-would-kill-for-you, never-knew-what-it-was-before type of love.”

“He hates me,” Gavin said. He thought about the waffles.

“Not on this day,” Tina said.

Gavin just looked down at his coffee. He felt like crying for some reason.

“This is the part where you say it,” Tina prompted him.

“You’re an asshole, Chen,” he sighed. “Look, just - just fucking tell me everything is going to be okay.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Tina said, a huge grin taking over her face. “Maybe even better than okay. Now, let’s go get some more scones.”

Chapter Text

On the walk home, Gavin searched for a news article about his accident. He figured there had to be something, and he was right, finding it fairly easily. The article shared way too much - a photo of the car, driven by a human of course, too busy texting to pay attention. Some things never changed. After hitting Gavin the man had swerved into the stoplight. He lived, but the article reported that after Gavin had been transported to the hospital, his partner had to be restrained when he became physically aggressive with the driver of the car. However, no charges were pressed.

There was no mention of RK900 being an android. Gavin felt a weird catch in his chest. He liked that, that it wasn’t mentioned, that he just seemed like any other fuckin' dude. And, the idea that RK had beat up the guy who nearly killed Gavin, he had to admit that was pretty fucking sick too.

As Gavin walked back to his apartment and approached the front door of his building, he saw a familiar figure down the block - RK900 himself, with a couple of canvas shopping bags. He had sunglasses on. What kind of android wore sunglasses? Gavin imagined him whipping somebody to death with his shopping bags.

Gavin couldn’t help it, he waved, and walked forward a couple of steps to meet RK as he came closer.

“Hey,” Gavin said breathlessly. “Want help with those?”

RK pursed his lips in a small smile. “Please, I don’t think I can handle this.”

Gavin grabbed the bags out of his hands and let RK unlock the door, leading them up the stairs in silence. It was a comfortable silence, though. Gavin was still lost in the details of his conversation with Tina, and RK seemed content to just put away his things and putter around the apartment. Gavin grabbed a beer, the same one he had drunk the day before, the six pack replenished along with the rest of the fridge. At least he didn’t have to worry about going broke.

“How is Tina?” RK asked as he wiped off the counters and Gavin sat in one of the kitchen chairs.

“She’s good, she, uh, she says hi,” Gavin said.

“We should have dinner with her and Dani,” RK said, his eyes suddenly blinking rapidly, LED yellow. Gavin knew he was adding it to one of his task lists. “It’s been quite some time.”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.” Not that it would ever happen, Gavin imagined, no matter what they planned.

RK turned to fully face him. “How are you doing?”

It all made sense, now. Why everyone was so worried about his well-being, asking if he was okay, RK being so sweet. Five years ago he had nearly died. That last moment he remembered, that was just before he walked in front of the car, just before - so was he in a coma? It seemed the most likely scenario, he supposed, based on everything else, but he still wasn't sure it was the truth. Maybe, for some reason, he was meant to learn something from this, so he could go back and avoid it altogether. Avoid RK’s apartment, avoid the car, avoid the accident.  If he hadn't asked RK about the meeting - if he hadn't agreed to drive him home - if he hadn't given a shit about what choices RK made. Maybe everything would change. He studied RK, how he looked at Gavin, the easy way he moved around his apartment, how Meatball rubbed up against his legs, begging for food.

Maybe this day was different. Some new things had happened, different things. Tina’s phone hadn’t broken, that was one good sign. Either Gavin would wake up in the morning and it would be tomorrow, really tomorrow, or he would be in a hospital bed or something back in 2039. He just didn’t want to wake up and repeat the same day again. Something had to change.

“You remember that day, don’t you?” Gavin asked. “Five years ago.”

RK’s LED went instantly red, and it stayed like that, even though he appeared calm otherwise.

“Of course I do, Gavin,” he said. His voice sounded strange.

“I know you won’t let me watch all your footage but - do you remember anything weird about that day? Anything that seemed wrong?”

“Other than seeing you wounded?” RK said, a sad little smile on his face. “I am unsure. It isn’t a day I like to think about.”

“But you’re thinking about it now,” Gavin pressed him. "You’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“It is impossible not to. I almost lost you.”

“You didn’t even like me back then,” Gavin said. He suddenly felt out of breath. Back then.

“I didn’t have to like you. I had to respect you, listen to you, and understand you. The idea of being without you was overwhelming, after we had become so accustomed to working together. You were my partner,” RK said. He didn’t move from his spot leaning against the counter. “You still are.”

“So you don’t like me now then, either,” Gavin said.

“Not at all,” RK said, his smile growing only incrementally wider. “Now I am fortunate enough to love you.”

“I - okay,” Gavin said, rubbing his hand across his face. His chest hurt. His heart was pounding. “RK, I need to tell you something. And you just need to listen to me. Please.” He took a sip of his beer, nodding towards the cabinet where RK had grabbed the bottle of wine the day before. “You might want to have a drink too.”

~

Hours and hours passed and they were still sitting at the kitchen table, though Gavin occasionally stood up to pace around wildly, too full of energy to sit. Gavin had told RK everything he remembered, from that morning where he took RK home, to leaving the apartment, to waking up that first June 5th and seeing RK in his apartment and wondering what was going on. And RK listened, taking in everything. He didn’t tell Gavin to see a doctor this time, or that they were going to the hospital. He just listened, and there was a long silence after Gavin finally got it all out.

“So you do not remember a single moment of the last five years,” RK said. His face was passive, unreadable.

“No,” Gavin said. “And you don’t remember a single moment of the last ten days I’ve been repeating with you.”

“No.” RK looked thoughtful, now. He took a sip from his glass, studying Gavin. “This is highly improbable.”

“Uh, yeah, you’re fucking telling me.”

“So this is the first time you have shared this, is that right?” RK asked. “With Tina, and then myself.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. He couldn’t believe how well RK was taking this. “Every morning I wake up, and things are back to the way they had been. June 5th, 10 am.”

“Have you tried staying up all night?”

Gavin blinked at him. “Have I tried what?”

“Staying up all night,” RK repeated patiently. “If things seem to reset while you are sleeping, I wonder what would happen if you stayed awake until ten am tomorrow.”

“Uh - fuck, I got no idea.” Gavin hadn’t even thought of that before, but it was a good idea, better than anything he had come up with so far. Gavin reached for his beer, his third bottle, but RK plucked it from the table and stood up. “Hey, what the hell was that for?”

“Alcohol will make you tired,” RK said as he began cleaning up. “After four drinks you typically get very silly, and then fall asleep.”

“Silly? I am not silly.”

RK smiled a little sadly. “Yes, you are. But I suppose you’re right. You’re not the same Gavin I’ve been living with for five years.”

Gavin felt like he was falling down, down, down, spinning through the air. “What happened to him, then? Since I’m just replacing him?” Gavin stood up, his whole body thrumming with anxiety. “What happens to you, every day I wake up again? All those other days that I was a prick to you or I was fucking shit up - did some version of you wake up and remember what happened?”

“There is no reason to think about it,” RK said firmly, though his LED spun red one singular time, then returned to yellow. “Just think about now.”

“This must be so fucking weird for you,” Gavin said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re just like - accepting what I’m telling you.”

“Gavin, I love you,” RK said simply. “You may be a - somewhat different man at the moment, but I have loved you for many years and that will not be so easily forgotten. I made a commitment to care for you, regardless of what circumstances we find ourselves in, and that is what I will do. It may seem like an insurmountable task, but compared to the monumental event that was you and I falling in love, this is child's play. Now.” He grabbed the coffee grounds out of the cabinet. “I am going to make some coffee.”

“RK, you’re a fucking genius,” Gavin said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“I know. Now, what are we to do for the next sixteen hours? You cannot take a nap, as that clearly resets the day. So you just need to stay awake. We cannot have sex, as that always puts you right to sleep and you do not feel comfortable with me in that regard as of right now anyway.”

“No, guess not,” Gavin muttered, his face hot and growing hotter by the second. His emotions were certainly not soothed from RK's sudden jumps between downright romantic as fuck confessions, jabbing insults and flirtatious comments. God, this was so fucking surreal. They probably fucked all the time. RK had seen him naked. Gavin had been getting dicked down by an android for years now. What was it like? It had to be good as hell, Gavin just knew it, looking at RK. Androids were good at fucking everything. Including fucking, probably. Was it too late? Was he drunk already?

“Why don’t we play something?” RK suggested. Gavin blinked, tearing his eyes away from wondering what RK's ass looked like. “That will engage and stimulate your brain. It’s been several months since we’ve stayed up all night playing a video game.”

“Has it?” Gavin actually laughed at that. RK didn’t need to sleep, so to him, an all-nighter was nothing, but the idea of the two of them holed up on the couch trying to beat Kingdom Hearts 12 or something was pretty funny. “Alright, you pick the most stimulating game you can think of. I’m starving.”

A text pinged in on his phone.

Teeny Weeny
sent 6:02 PM

Fuck you asshole still broke my phone dropping it in the toilet can only text to talk you should become a psychic if you run out of options

Gavin wanted to smile, to text her back and tease her, but the information only made his stomach drop. He tucked his phone into his pocket and took a deep breath. He could do this.

~

At first, Gavin had been sure he would make it. He had stayed up all night and gone to work the next day so many times over the years with no problem, of course he would do it now, when it was actually something important. And sure enough, he and RK made it through most of the night, sitting together on the couch drinking coffee, eating snacks and passing the old-school controller back and forth. Gavin had never been a fan of VR games, and he was happy to see that his future self still had all of his classic consoles and games. RK, for his part, seemed to actually enjoy playing, too. At first, they just played, but after a couple of hours they were bickering and trading insults almost like how Gavin remembered. But there was something underneath, some current that softened the blows between them.

The way that RK looked at him was - it was nice, Gavin had to admit. RK listened to him, actually listened, not just the listening where you're only waiting to provide a response of your own. He was good at the game, too, and between the two of them they progressed further and further, unraveling the game and its tricks and mechanics the same way they did during an investigation. Yeah, it was nice, spending time together like this, doing what they did best, without having to worry about work shit. He almost forgot why they were doing this in the first place. Almost.

As the minutes ticked down, Gavin soon found himself just sitting on the couch with RK, the game paused and forgotten. They watched Gavin’s phone together in silence.

11:58 PM

11:59 PM

“12:00 AM. June 6th.” Gavin read off of his phone once midnight arrived. Gavin sat, waiting for something to happen, waiting for his brain to suddenly short circuit, for him to keel over and die, or to be sucked up into some kind of black hole and deposited in a place he wasn’t supposed to be.

12:01 AM

Gavin and RK exchanged a tentative smile. Gavin could have screamed.

The night passed easily after that, easier than Gavin could have dreamed. With each passing minute, Gavin relaxed more and more, until he picked up the controller again and kept playing, RK still sitting by his side. Maybe this would work. Eventually they grew bored of the game and started flipping through the tv, laughing over the late-night infomercials, something that hadn't changed since Gavin was a little kid, and then eventually that got shut off too, and they just sat on the couch, the conversation coming so easily that Gavin could barely even remember what they talked about.

By six am Gavin was feeling wired, like he could easily go another night without sleep. He and RK took a walk to stretch their legs, the early-summer air still a little cool and breezy at this time in the morning. The sunrise was stretching over the sky. Gavin felt strung out on coffee and veggie chips, but as he looked up at the sky, bringing a new day, he actually felt hopeful.

“I called us both out of work again today,” RK said as they circled back to the apartment. “I doubt you’ll be in any state to attend your shift, after such a long night. Fowler will understand.”

“I’m glad he’s still around,” Gavin said, feeling a little fuzzy at RK's thoughtfulness. Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation. “What about Anderson? And Connor?"

“They are two peas in a pod, as always. Hank retired last year.”

“Fucking finally,” Gavin muttered. “And I’m Lieutenant.”

“Yes.” RK reached out and squeezed his hand, just for a second, before pulling away to open up the front door. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Gavin said, suppressing a yawn. “I think I should shower, wake myself up a little bit.”

He caught it, the way RK’s LED whirred yellow just for a second. Gavin wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe joining him in the shower. Gavin's heart seemed to skip a beat. That would be a normal thing to do, right? If everything was normal?

But everything was definitely not fucking normal. As they entered the apartment, Gavin grabbed RK's wrist, stilling him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice breaking. “What if this is it? What if we broke the loop and I’m just - here now?”

“Then we will figure it out,” RK said firmly, looking down at him. He was so close Gavin could have easily leaned into his chest, felt RK’s arms wrap around him as they had before, a gesture so strange and so familiar. “As always.”

Gavin showered, taking his time, scrubbing every single inch of his skin, examining it for other unfamiliar scars, signs of the accident he had been in. How long had it taken him to recover? Obviously he had lived, he was talking and walking and working just fine. But what had he gone through? It was terrifying, almost overwhelming, to think about.

He wasn’t sure whether he felt overly awake or overly exhausted. What would happen now? He had five years of his life missing. Five years of things he had done and learned and said and he had no idea. Would Gavin stay like this? Married - ? That was a question Gavin couldn't begin to comprehend now. The idea of jumping straight into a marriage with RK was so completely insane that Gavin had to dismiss it. At the same time... this entire situation was completely insane. And after everything that had happened - RK had to help him, he had to. And he would. He would know how to deal with this. I am fortunate enough to love you. For a moment, Gavin really wished he could say the same.

He pulled on a pair of sweats and ambled back out to the living room. RK was making breakfast. He turned and caught Gavin’s eye. “Eggs,” he said pointedly, and Gavin laughed.

“We might just have to ban waffles from this household,” he said. The kitchen chairs seemed way too uncomfortable right now. He flopped down on the couch. “If I wake up one morning and you’re making waffles, I might have another existential crisis.”

“Pity, I do make a lovely waffle,” RK said. Suddenly Gavin was being jostled on the couch, the smell of hot steaming coffee filling his nose. Gavin opened his eyes and looked at RK, crouched in front of him, his face drawn in concern. “Don’t fall asleep now, Gavin. If you can just make it past ten am, that will be a good sign.”

“No, no, I’m not tired,” Gavin insisted, grabbing the cup of coffee from RK and taking a long sip. “I’m fine.”

RK studied him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t fall asleep,” he said again.

“Okay.” Gavin put the cup down on the table by the couch and leaned back. Suddenly he felt very comfortable. This couch had to be expensive as fuck. His eyes were so heavy. He had to close them, just for a second. He would feel so much better after he did.

“Gavin,” RK said, and now he sounded scared, his grey-blue eyes flashing above Gavin, his hand on his shoulder. “Please stay awake.”

“I’m just resting my eyes,” Gavin whispered.

“Gavin, please,” RK said. His LED was red. Something about this seemed familiar.

“You’re good, R,” Gavin muttered. “Too good for me. So good to me…”

He couldn’t help it. He gave in, and like a light being turned off, he was asleep, with RK hovering over him.

~

“No!” Gavin shouted, leaping out of bed and landing on the floor before scrambling to the bedside table. “Fucking shit!”

10:00 AM. June 5th.

“Fuck!” Gavin grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. He wanted to break his phone into a million pieces. He wanted to cry. He wanted to die. He couldn’t keep doing this, he wouldn’t keep doing this.

The bedroom door flew open and there was RK, holding a cup of coffee and looking concerned. “Are you all right? I heard you yelling.”

“No, I am not fucking all right!” He threw his phone towards the door, smashing it on the frame. RK flinched, dropping the coffee on the ground, but stepped forward into the room.

“Gavin,” he commanded. “Stop.”

“Fuck you,” Gavin yelled.

“Gavin, please talk to me,” RK said. He had his hands out, palms open, approaching Gavin like he was a wild animal.

“No, you talk to me!” Gavin shouted. “What do you want from me? I know this has something to fucking do with you. I know it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Just tell me!”

“Gavin,” RK said, his voice quiet. “Come here.”

“This is your fault,” Gavin spat. "This entire fucking thing - the fight, the fucking FBI, the accident - it's all bullshit. I shouldn't have even fucking been there! I shouldn't even be here!"

And then, there was silence.

RK’s hands dropped to his side. His LED wasn’t spinning anymore, it was just a hard, solid, gleaming scarlet red. He turned around and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Gavin threw himself into the bed and laid there until it got dark outside. At some point, he fell asleep.

~

Gavin was staring at his phone.

10:21 AM June 5th

A gentle knock came on the bedroom door, and then RK was entering.

“How are you feeling?” The android asked quietly. “I brought coffee.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking fine,” Gavin muttered, and then he sighed, turning to face the android. He studied his face. Did he remember anything from the last two days? Anything at all? Of course not. The day had been erased, just like all the others. Gavin couldn't wipe that image from his mind, of RK standing there in a puddle of hot coffee, his LED burning. Gavin almost wanted to apologize, but what for? To RK, that moment didn't exist. It never did, it never would. Gavin had a million chances here. He could choose to be an asshole every day, to break RK's heart and make him hurt and make him turn around and leave.

But Gavin wasn't sure that was what he wanted to do anymore. The sight of RK's LED burning red sent a horrible feeling through Gavin's every nerve. While his mind had no memory of their marriage, Gavin was beginning to feel like his body did, that those five years Gavin had skipped were embedded in his bones.

Gavin sat down on the edge of the bed, defeated and feeling like the world’s biggest, dumbest asshole. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths, and then the bed dipped down next to him with RK’s weight. The android’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, rubbing soothing little circles just where Gavin liked it.

“Wanna do something today?” Gavin asked abruptly.

RK blinked. “Such as?”

“Like - I don’t know. What’s something we haven’t done in a while?”

“I am not sure - “

“What’s something you want to do?” Gavin said. He realized he was practically pleading with RK. “I want to do something with you, something you’ll enjoy. I’m tired of being cooped up in this apartment. Let’s fucking go somewhere.”

“The zoo just upgraded their dinosaur exhibit,” RK said. His LED was blue, though it twirled and spun in his temple. “Admission is half price on this day of the week as well.”

“Well fuck it then, let’s go to the god damn zoo,” Gavin declared. He stood up, pulling RK with him. “But first, I want one of those waffles.”

~

If Gavin was going to be given unlimited days, he might as well make the most of it.

At least, that was what he told himself each morning. He stopped checking his phone first thing, the smell of waffles wafting from the kitchen already telling him everything he needed to know. Some days he just laid there, the blanket pulled over his face, until RK came to check on him.

When Gavin was having one of those mornings, he usually just asked RK to close the blinds, and he would force himself to go back to sleep, starting over. Some days he would just lay there, all day, staring at the ceiling, unable to think, unable to feel, until hours later he would finally pass out. Sometimes he stayed awake long enough for RK to come check on him again. Sometimes Gavin locked the bedroom door so he wouldn’t come inside, shouting at him to go away. Once, RK broke down the door and pulled Gavin into his arms, just holding him there, even though he didn’t understand. And sometimes, almost every day at first, Gavin would tell RK what was going on, explaining it to him. He always listened patiently. He always believed Gavin. And then the next morning, he had forgotten.

But sometimes, more and more actually as time stretched on, Gavin forced himself out of bed, showered, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and faced the day as he normally would. He bickered with RK, ate a stack of waffles, read the news on his phone, always the same articles, until he practically had them memorized, until he could spout off the stories almost as good as RK could.

“It’s a good thing I fucking love waffles,” Gavin said one morning as he joined RK in the kitchen. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of them.”

“How fortunate, this is the only recipe I know,” RK said, turning to throw a little smile his way. “You haven’t eaten waffles in this house in three months, unless you’re hiding something from me.”

“Alright Big Brother, I don't think that's possible," Gavin said into his coffee. "Wanna go to the park today? I think the weather is supposed to be nice."

~

At the aquarium on the thirty fourth June 5th, RK reached for his hand on their way to get a hot dog. Gavin swatted it away.

“I’m sweaty as fuck,” he said. “But look, I bet that cute cashier will give you a discount on a hot dog if she thinks you’re single.”

Sure enough, RK was able to schmooze his way into a free icee somehow too. “You know, you’re not half bad at this social interaction thing.” Gavin ate his hot dog happily.

“Are you jealous?” RK took a sip of the slushie, raising his eyebrow at Gavin.

“At what, your incredible social skills? Somebody catch me, I’m fainting over here.”

“Please eat your hot dog before I give it to a bird.”

~

Gavin was pretty sure he had never been so busy in his fucking life. They did something almost every day together. The zoo, the aquarium, every museum and historical center in the city, every park, every bar and restaurant and arcade. They went to the movies, one of the old arthouse places that hadn’t been closed down yet, which RK seemed to really love. Over the course of a week, they saw every movie that was playing, Gavin remembering which ones his partner liked the best. He learned that RK liked old spaghetti westerns, Tarantino movies, classic musicals, existential sci-fi. RK liked to settle down at night with a book, one of Gavin’s old ones he had gotten from his father, with real pages and paper. He didn’t like to talk about himself, but he liked to talk about facts, about history and technology. By the end of each night he was in a different mood, and Gavin got to see them all, got to know RK over the course of these endless repeated days.

Sometimes Gavin called Tina early, and the three of them would go get lunch or drinks or whatever. Sometimes Danielle would join them. Tina never gave any indication she knew what was going on, and Gavin didn’t ask. But sometimes, if they went out for dinner and were walking to wait for a cab, Danielle would pull out a cigarette, sometimes sharing a drag or two with Tina. Gavin would watch the smoke curl up into the air, but he didn't even want one anymore.

He had tried writing it on his phone, and then in a notebook, what they did each day, but of course it was erased every morning, and soon the list grew too long for Gavin to remember. They were stuck in this perpetual day off - no work, no responsibilities. Just the two of them.

~

On the eighty-eighth day, Gavin looked at their wedding photos.  It was a blur of faces, people he both did and didn’t recognize; androids, humans, cops and the Cyberlife revolutionaries. Fowler, giving a speech. Hank passed out asleep in a chair. Connor and Tina, toasting each other and smiling. Gavin and RK, dressed in matching linen suits, posing in front of the DPD. Gavin had never seen so many pictures of himself smiling. And RK, he looked happy. No red LED, just blue all the way, blue as his eyes in the sunlight that Gavin couldn’t help but notice every single day.

Gavin closed his laptop and went to help RK with dinner.

~

On the eighty-ninth day, RK reached for his hand at the aquarium, and Gavin let him take it.

~

It was strange. As time stretched on and the days - or day, really - passed, Gavin began to lose track of what was going on. He started to pretend that this really was their life. That they didn’t have shit to worry about. That the two of them would never grow old and never get sick and they would just stay like this forever. An infinite loop, an infinite life. It was a terrible thought, in a way. But it didn’t scare him as badly as it used to, not anymore. He had given up on probing RK’s memory to see what he had missed - he could see how uncomfortable it made him. Instead, he just tried to let go and figure things out as they came along.

The more time passed, the more Gavin realized that he actually liked RK. He was funny, first of all, sarcastic and ironic and dry as all hell with his humor. Sometimes he told incredibly dark, fucked up jokes that made Gavin laugh himself into tears. He was generous, caring, kinder than he had any reason to be, especially towards Gavin. It was clear that he respected him, enough to not only care for him, but to tell Gavin when he was acting like an asshole. He never pushed Gavin for intimacy - sometimes Gavin found himself asking for a hug, or reaching for RK’s hand. Sometimes RK would press a kiss to his cheek or his head or the back of his neck as he passed by.

But he never pushed any further than that. He was - he was just a gentleman. And Gavin couldn't deny that he saw him as a friend, now, not just his colleague, not just a friend either, really, but closer than that, somebody he truly trusted, somebody he actually liked spending time around, which was pretty fucking unusual for Gavin.

At the beginning, Gavin had always felt the weight of his wedding ring, sometimes taking it off altogether and slamming it in a drawer somewhere before burrowing into his blankets for the day. Now, it never left his finger. But Gavin remembered those first few days, of course. That was something he would never forget, when he had first gotten into this situation and he had trashed the apartment and yelled at RK and driven him out. The things he had said and done, how cruel and petty he had been. And not just on this day, but - every day previous to it, the six months they had spent together as partners before this fucking shit consumed Gavin’s mind.

RK didn’t remember those repeated and forgotten days, and as he always insisted, he didn’t think about the past, about before they got together. But Gavin did, and he hated himself for it. More and the more the thought kept him up late into the night that, in some universe, he had created a loop where he and RK got divorced, or where the two of them had never gotten together at all. He wasn’t sure he would ever find out. Every day, it was June 5th again, and RK was making him waffles.

~

Exactly one hundred days had passed. One hundred June 5ths. Gavin stared up at the bedroom ceiling, unable to move. He hadn’t had one of these days in a while. The late morning sun streamed into the windows. Everything was exactly as it had been the day before. They had gone to the zoo again, one of RK’s favorite things to do. He spouted off facts and statistics and history like it was nothing. Gavin never got tired of listening to him. Would he really be doing this forever? And was that really that terrifying anymore?

The door opened. RK was standing there with a cup of coffee.

“You all right?” he asked gently, coming inside. “You slept late.”

“I’m fine,” Gavin muttered. He rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Gavin heard the sound of the mug setting down on the bedside table, and then RK’s soft footsteps as he began to walk away, and suddenly Gavin was sitting up, facing him.

“Hey,” Gavin said, swallowing hard. “Stay with me?”

“One second, Gav,” RK said, smiling a little bit. “I don’t want to burn your waffles.”

He returned only a couple minutes later and slipped into the bed beside Gavin, fully clothed under the blankets. Gavin scooted to the side to make room for him. They laid there facing each other, each looking at the other. Gavin had spent countless hours now looking at RK, studying his face, his expressions, the way he held himself. He had never gotten to do that in the past, when they were working together.

There were so many things he wanted to ask. So many things he needed to know. Was this one of those days, that he wanted to tell RK the truth, to tell him about the loop and bring him into its spiral alongside him? Or was this a good day, a day Gavin brushed everything to the side and just pretended. Was that even a good day, really?

“Hey,” Gavin whispered, looking at RK, remembering something he had said a long time ago, back in the beginning. “I know I was - uh, upset, yesterday. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” RK said quietly. He reached out and laid his palm on Gavin’s face. “This is a difficult day for you. And… for me as well,” he admitted. “Sometimes I wish we could just skip over it altogether.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, a sick feeling in his stomach. “Me too.”

“Why don’t you get some more sleep?” RK suggested. This wasn’t something he had said in a while. Then again, this was the first time he had crawled into bed with Gavin in the middle of the day like this. “You must be exhausted. We have been so busy lately.”

“No, I… I’m not tired.” Gavin’s mouth was dry. RK had no idea how right he was. He reached up and put his hand over RK’s, holding it there on his cheek. “I know you aren’t, either. You never get tired.”

“Fortunately for you,” RK said with a little smile.

“God, you’re just - fuck,” Gavin closed his eyes. For some reason he was sure he was going to start crying. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you, you fucking asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“You calling me an asshole?” Gavin rubbed his foot against RK’s without thinking. Sparks of electricity seemed to race up his legs. They had never been this close before, not like this. To RK, this was just another morning, but to Gavin, he felt like a teenager hanging out with his crush for the first time. Gavin knew they were married, knew RK wouldn’t even bat one inexplicably long eyelash if he rolled on top of him right now and kissed him. But to Gavin it just seemed like something he shouldn’t take advantage of.

“No, I’m calling you perfect, of course,” RK said. “It is my civic duty to ensure your ego stays as inflated as possible.”

“You really are an asshole,” Gavin said with a laugh. That sick feeling had changed into something else, something warm and comfortable, like a plate full of waffles. “I would know, I guess, since I’ve been married to your ass for three years, two months, and seventeen days.”

It wasn’t a lie, really. Technically that was how long they had been married, though Gavin of course didn’t remember it all. To him, they had spent this one day together, one hundred times. And on this day, for the first time, RK suddenly moved forward, cupping Gavin’s face in his hand, gentle and firm at the same time, and he kissed him.

This wasn’t a “going to run errands, see you soon” side of the mouth kiss. This wasn’t a “good night and get some sleep” forehead kiss. It wasn’t even a “you’re a dumb fuck but you amuse me” kiss on the cheek Gavin got when they were goofing off sometimes. This was a real, complete, one-hundred-percent on the mouth kiss, soft and sweet and all-encompassing, the kind of kiss Gavin fucking dreamed about, and Gavin turned into it, meeting RK there under the blankets, pulling him closer.

To RK, they had kissed probably thousands of times. To Gavin, he had never been kissed like this before, not by anybody. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled RK closer, feeling suddenly desperate, like this couldn’t end, any of it. He didn’t want to start over again tomorrow, but he didn’t want to wake up back in 2039 again, either. He wanted to - he didn’t know what he wanted.

“R,” Gavin whispered, pulling back slightly. “I - “ But he didn’t know what he was going to say. He stopped, pressing his face into RK’s neck, trying to catch his breath. “Just stay here with me. Please don’t leave me. Please.”

“Never,” RK said against his hair. He wrapped his arms around Gavin, pulling him closer, tucking him against his chest. Gavin felt Meatball jumped onto the bed, purring and kneading at the blankets, wondering what they were doing. “I love you, Gavin.”

Gavin didn’t say anything back. He just closed his eyes and breathed.

~

10:01 am. June 5th.

Gavin woke up alone. The side of the bed where he knew RK had been was cold. The air smelled like waffles. Gavin felt like he was swimming underwater. His chest ached like he couldn’t breathe, like he was being suffocated. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to wake up and have RK be there already.

He grabbed his phone with his eyes closed, having done it so many times. Scrolling through the contacts, briefly considering Tina’s name, and then finally clicking on someone else entirely.

The phone rang five times before a gruff voice picked up, “Hey, Gavin.”

It wasn’t the greeting Gavin expected. Usually Hank would have cursed him out for calling so damn early. Maybe he had gotten soft in his old age. Most likely of all, Hank knew what had happened on this day, and he was just being polite. Probably Connor’s bad influence. Gavin had seen the beginning stages of their relationship, five years earlier as the revolution happened. But just like his own marriage, Gavin had missed out on seeing everything in between. And now Hank was retired, going on cruises and volunteering for animal shelters and shit, according to RK. He and Connor seemed happy together.

“Anderson,” Gavin said. “You and Connor wanna come over for dinner tonight? We don’t have any plans.”

“You need to borrow money or something,” Hank said, but there was no real hostility behind his words. “Yeah, I’ll ask Connor. Been a while since we all got together. We could probably come by after he gets out of the precinct. I’ll text you.”

Gavin spent the next couple of hours reading his old texts with Hank, thinking about what he was going to do. He and Hank had gotten even closer, he found, since his wedding to RK. They didn’t text often, but it was always friendly, once heartfelt, when Hank thanked Gavin and RK for helping with some home improvement fuckery Gavin had no idea either of them would be useful with. Hank had always been a no-bullshit kind of guy, and he seemed to trust Gavin, respect him even.

He had to tell them what was happening, he had to. They would forget tomorrow, anyway, but maybe, just maybe, they’d have some kind of answer for him. Gavin had already read all the news articles about his accident, found any pictures he could online, immersed himself in what had happened. But RK didn’t ever want to talk about it, and Gavin couldn’t remember, not really. Tina had said that everyone had been worried about RK after the accident. Maybe Connor or Hank knew something else, something Gavin didn’t know. The prospect of learning something new about RK gave Gavin a fresh wave of childish butterflies. They had to know something. Gavin just had to figure out how to ask, without being weird.

He and RK went grocery shopping, RK seeming excited at the prospect of their friends coming over for dinner. It was clear to Gavin this wasn’t something they often did. Gavin resolved that they would do it more. RK wouldn’t know it was a repeated thing, but he would. And at least if the food didn’t go over well, they could always have a do-over the next day.

Not that Gavin was worried about that. He had become a pretty fucking good cook in the last hundred days.

They bought more wine and cheese and pasta, RK picking out some thirium-based food for him and Connor to eat, and then they cooked together, Meatball winding around their legs and begging for little bits of bread that RK couldn’t resist giving.

“This is why she’s so fat,” Gavin observed as RK crouched down again, giving her another piece of crust.

“She has worn me down,” RK said woefully. “I am but her slave. She knows you won’t give it to her.”

Gavin laughed. “Forgive me, Father Meatball, for I have sinned. I have denied our child crusty bread for one hundred days and nights.”

“I will have to think of a suitable punishment,” RK said, looking at Gavin with a smile as he stood. He seemed to have gotten a lot closer to Gavin. Gavin swallowed hard, staring at RK’s mouth. All he could think about was that kiss. Of course, RK didn’t remember it, or would have thought nothing of it really, even though it was probably the best kiss Gavin had ever received in his entire pathetic life.

Suddenly RK was blinking, LED yellow just for a second, and then he was back, focused on Gavin. “Connor said they’re down the block. Is there anything else we need?”

“Don’t think so,” Gavin said. He cleared his throat, looking away. “I’ll set the table.” He thought about kissing RK then, maybe on the cheek, or on the top of the shoulder, like the android did to him so affectionately. Instead he just turned the wedding ring around on his finger and turned away.

~

Gavin couldn’t believe he was saying it, but dinner was actually fun. After the revolution, Gavin had begrudgingly regained some of his respect for Hank. He understood the man had been through more than anyone should ever have to, and come out on the other side. Hell, without him, the androids probably would have lost. He and Connor had made a good team. They still did, Hank a little older and greyer but undoubtedly healthier, Connor still exactly the same as he had been during the revolution over five years before. They were comfortable together, bickering and bantering and finishing each other’s sentences. Gavin wondered if that’s how he and RK had been.

“That was pretty fucking good, I have to admit,” Hank said as RK began clearing the plates away. Gavin hurriedly stood to join and help him. “Place looks nice, guys. Haven’t been here in a while.”

Meatball had jumped up and taken refuge on his lap, no doubt sensing his soft, animal-loving instincts. She was rewarded with a piece of cheese for her efforts. Connor watched dubiously. “Hank, she’s going to get diarrhea.”

“She can join the fucking club, then.”

“How is Sumo doing?” RK asked, changing the subject after exchanging an amused glance with Gavin.

“Eh, he’s fine. Getting a little old, but so am I. Modern medicine is both a blessing and a bitch. We’ll probably both be sticking around for far too long.”

Gavin wondered, then, what would happen if he died. If he leapt from the roof of the apartment building, or jumped off of the bridge at the edge of the city, or if he recreated his accident and let himself get run over by a bus. What June 5th would be wake up on? Or would he wake up at all?

Suddenly RK’s hand was on his arm, grounding him. You’re okay, his eyes said. He gently rubbed Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin gave into the urge to take his hand, to bring it to his mouth and kiss his ring finger, just as RK had done to him one of those first days. He didn’t remember that, though. But Gavin did, of course Gavin did. RK smiled and turned to put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“So what’s the occasion?” Hank asked lightly, pouring Connor another glass of thirium wine. “R?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Hank filled his glass too. Gavin grabbed he and Hank each a beer from the fridge and settled back at the table.

“Do we gotta have a reason to have company over?” Gavin asked.

“Nah, it’s just been a while,” Hank said again. He glanced at Connor.

“You weren’t exactly in the best of moods at work yesterday,” Connor said carefully.

“I wasn’t, was I?” Gavin was careful with his expression. ‘Yesterday’ meant something far different to the people sitting in front of him.

“You should just take this whole week off, you know,” Hank said. “Fowler would give it to you. Both of you.”

RK stilled briefly at that, but Gavin caught it all the same. “Yeah, Nines,” Connor said enthusiastically, using a nickname Gavin had never heard before. “You really should. You guys deserve it.”

“I only take this day off to support Gavin if he needs anything,” RK said stiffly. This was strange, something was wrong. Gavin wanted to stand up and put his hands on RK, calm him, ground him, like RK always did to him.

“That’s a crock of shit and we all know it, but if you insist.” Hank shrugged and took another sip of his beer. “Next year you guys should go on a cruise or something.”

“I think that is Hank’s only advice,” Connor said solemnly. “Go on a cruise. It will solve your problems.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Not necessarily,” Connor acquiesced. “However, Gavin and Nines aren’t the type to lay around on a cruise. ”

“Maybe like, a safari,” Hank suggested. “Or hang gliding over a volcano. Surfing with sharks. That’s the type of shit you guys like to do.”

“Occasionally,” RK said. He was smiling, but something was different than before, something weighing him down. As the conversation turned to politics, to Markus and Cyberlife, Gavin sipped his beer and watched RK, wondering what he was thinking about.

~

Hank and Connor left just before ten, Connor insistent that Hank go home to get some rest. “I’m retired, I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Hank protested, but he let Connor lead him out anyway, giving both Gavin and RK a big hug before he did so. Gavin wasn’t used to such displays of affection from the old man, but he knew how much he had missed out on. Hank had changed. Gavin couldn’t say he was mad about it.

Gavin got halfway through cleaning up the kitchen before he realized RK wasn’t in there with him. Senses dulled by beer, Gavin wandered in to the living room, finding RK sitting on the couch. The light was on, but the tv was off, no book in RK’s hands. He was simply sitting there.

“Hey,” Gavin said quietly. “You alright?”

RK blinked and turned his head. Gavin could see his LED was red. He hadn’t seen that in a very long time. Gavin sunk down on the couch next to him and took his hand.

“R, you can talk to me,” Gavin said. His heart ached, for some reason.

“Hank is right, you know,” RK finally said. It sounded like a confession. Gavin could hear the strain in his words, how hard this was for him. “I take this day off for you but also - for me.” He shook his head. “I am sorry. I don’t deserve any pity. You’re the one who was hurt.”

“Yeah, I was,” Gavin said. He couldn’t remember it, of course. But RK thought that he did, and that was more important. “But I’m okay, right?”

“But you could have died,” RK said quietly. His LED flickered red and nervous. “You could have died. Five years ago, today. Gone from my life forever.”

Gavin reached out and put his hand over the LED, covering it, pressing his fingers against RK’s temple. “Maybe everything turned out the way it was supposed to.”

RK closed his eyes. He looked so vulnerable. Gavin never saw him like this, not in his memories, at least. “Maybe,” he said, barely a whisper.

“Hey,” Gavin said. “Look at me.”

RK opened his eyes. Gavin couldn’t see his LED, but he didn’t care.

“You’re a good person, R,” Gavin said. “A really, really, really good person. I have so much fun with you. You make me laugh harder than anybody else I’ve ever met. You’re my best friend. Like, there’s literally no competition. I don’t even like Tina half as much as I like you. And you tried to beat up the guy who almost killed me, like, how much more romantic can you get?”

RK let out a little laugh, uncontrolled, breathless. Gavin put his other hand on his face, holding him there in place, studying him.

“You’re my husband,” he said then, practically choking on the words that he never spoke aloud, the truth of this new reality he hadn’t fully been able to accept. “And I - I don’t deserve you.”

RK was quiet for a while. Finally, he said, “That day… of your accident… it was selfish of me. To ask you to come to my apartment, so I could tell you about Perkins. I don’t know why I did it. I thought maybe if I told you there, you would - say something else, something different than I expected. But then you left, and...”

“What did you expect?” Gavin said.

“You weren’t exactly… fond of androids, at that point,” RK said. The words seemed to come out jumbled, unlike his usual calm, composed thoughts. “You weren’t fond of me, that I knew. I didn’t want to scan you, to find out how you were feeling, what you were thinking. That felt so invasive. It always will. I didn’t know what you would say - I wanted - " He stopped, like he was hitting a wall, like he was embarrassed. "- I thought you’d be glad to be rid of me. But I thought if I could tell you alone, maybe…”

"Maybe," Gavin repeated.

“Maybe you would tell me to stay at the DPD,” RK said.

"And what did I do instead?" Gavin asked, knowing he had to hear the answer.

"You left before - I could tell you that I didn't want the job. That I wanted to be your partner permanently. I wanted you to want that, as I did."

“But I did want that, didn’t I?” Gavin could feel his ring, so heavy and so right on his finger. This seemed like the right thing to say. “You are my partner. You always will be, no matter what happens. You can’t get rid of me that easily. You made sure of that,” he said, remembering RK’s words from one of their first repeated days together.

“I did,” RK said. He had moved closer to Gavin, taken Gavin’s face in his own hands, so they were holding each other, impossibly close.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin burst out. “I am so, so, so sorry. I can be such a dick to you. You are so good to me. You don’t deserve that. I’m just… I wish I could take it back and start over.”

“Sometimes I do too,” RK said. “I go over the memories over and over again, wondering what I could have done differently. What I could do differently now, if anything, to make your life easier, to make it better. It is painful, sometimes.” Gavin thought of all the times he had tried to convince RK to show him his memories, to go back in the records and logs he had taken, but RK always refused.

“And sometimes I think, like you said…” RK trailed off, brushing his thumb across Gavin’s cheek so tenderly it almost hurt. “Everything turned out how it was meant to."

They were pressed together on the couch, anchoring each other in place, holding on so tightly Gavin was afraid he would sink down into the floor if he let go. He didn’t want to wake up tomorrow. He wanted to live in his day forever, where he felt so close to RK, where he felt like they were one person, almost. Where he felt, just for a moment, that he understood how much RK loved him.

“Please,” Gavin breathed. “Take me to our bed.”

RK moved forward and lifted him as if it were nothing. His hands roamed across Gavin’s body, pulling him tight against his chest and walking him backwards towards the bedroom. Gavin wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him desperately, wanting to burn every second of his into his memory forever. Just like his wedding ring, the feel of RK’s body against his was so familiar but so new, something Gavin desperately wanted but hadn’t understood, not until now. Tomorrow they would wake up and RK would have forgotten this conversation, forgotten the way he bared himself to Gavin, how close they had been in that moment.

RK kicked the bedroom door open, peeling off Gavin’s clothes one layer at a time, kissing him over and over again, laying him down in the blankets and touching over every inch of his body until Gavin was practically crying. RK fucked like he kissed, slow and deliberate and controlled. He held Gavin down and touched him all the ways he liked, all the ways he had never shown or told to anyone before in this or any other lifetime. He took Gavin apart piece by piece and then held him afterwards, his face pressed into the back of Gavin’s neck, both of them catching their breath.

“I fucking love you, RK,” Gavin whispered into the pillow. He gripped RK’s hand, running his thumb over the thin black band around his finger. “I literally fucking love you so much.”

“Gavin, Gavin,” RK said gently, quietly, kissing his temple and drawing him closer. “I love you too."

“It wasn’t your fault,” Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. He felt RK’s arms wrap around him tighter. “It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. And I’m sorry if I ever made it seem that way. You might not remember but, I do. And I’m so fucking sorry.”

He could feel RK so close to him, holding him, his face pressed into Gavin’s hair. Something seemed to rush through him, like a wave of goosebumps, and he curled tighter around Gavin, bringing him impossibly close, kissing his shoulder over and over again. “I’m so glad you’re here with me now,” RK said into the darkness.

“I am too, R,” Gavin said, wanting to never forget this, wanting this moment to never end, wishing RK could remember this tomorrow. “I am too.”

He woke up on the ground with the sun flashing in his eyes. There was screaming - somebody was screaming, maybe more than one person. Gavin tried to sit up. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do much of anything. He closed his eyes. What happened to his bed and his blankets and to -

“Gavin,” a voice was saying, a flash of red, whirring and spinning above him, grey-blue eyes looking into his, wide and burning with something Gavin had never seen before. The android, his partner, his husband, dropped down next to him.

“RK,” Gavin choked out. He could taste the blood in his mouth, feel the crushing pain all over his body. Strong arms wrapped around him, cradling him, holding him there on the pavement. “Tell Tina - when I ask - to say - everything is gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

“Where is the fucking ambulance?” RK screamed.

Gavin closed his eyes, and then, it was dark.

~

10:01 PM. June 4th

Gavin sighed as he tucked his phone into his pocket and unlocked the apartment door. It was late, really late. Another long day, full of meetings and delegations. Gavin loved his new position, but it was exhausting, being so many people’s superior. It wasn’t exactly something he was used to. RK was better at it. Fowler had done the right thing in moving him off the floor and into the classroom. Teaching interns - android, human, or whatever - was just something his husband seemed to be naturally good at. But Gavin had to admit, he missed spending nearly every moment by RK’s side. They had always made an impeccable team.

“Hey,” Gavin called out as he entered, scooping up Meatball. RK was on the couch, reading, no doubt waiting for him. “Sorry I’m so late. Fuck, it was a long, shitty, stupid day.”

“You can sleep in tomorrow,” RK said as Gavin flopped down next to him, tucking both himself and his cat into RK’s side. “We’ll do whatever you want to do.”

“I don’t want to do anything,” Gavin nearly snapped, though he softened at the last second, embarrassed by himself.

Gavin thought of years previous, what they had done on that day, the anniversary of his accident. Usually Gavin just wanted to take the day off, veg out on the couch with RK and not think about anything at all. But the first year, they had gone out to dinner, the two of them just beginning to navigate the undeniable bond between them. Gavin remembered those early days so vividly, once he had gotten out of the hospital and realized RK hadn’t left his side, once RK had simply come home with him and taken care of him, once he realized that RK wasn’t going anywhere. His partner in everything. Fuck, Gavin felt so lucky. He barely remembered shit about the accident - he remembered leaving RK’s place, crossing the street, but then… he wasn’t sure what else, until he had woken up in practically a full body cast with RK waiting in the hospital room by his side, when he felt despite himself that everything was going to be okay.

He thought about their first date, their first vacation together, all the days they had spent cleaning and rearranging Gavin’s apartment, all of their road trips, the day Gavin had proposed, the day they got married, the day they flew to DC for Markus and Simon’s wedding and RK had gotten stoned on thirium brownies North made, their promotions, the really good days, the very best days. All the times they had laughed and cried and held each other, the two of them together, all mixing up into one big memory that Gavin just wanted to sink inside forever.

“I'm sorry, R. I’m just… feeling a lot of shit right now,” Gavin said, his voice muffled into RK’s sweater. “I shouldn't take it out on you. Today always sucks. Tomorrow does too. And the day after, sometimes. But at least I get to spend them all with your plastic ass.”

“Well, my plastic ass could make you breakfast in the morning,” RK asked, running his hand affectionately, mindlessly through Gavin’s hair, pulling him closer. “If you want me to.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. RK always knew the way into his heart. “I want some fucking waffles.”

~

10:04 AM. June 6th

Gavin blinked at his phone, still half in the throes of sleep. “Shit,” he muttered. He must have gotten hammered yesterday. He felt fucking exhausted. He nuzzled deeper under the blankets, reaching out his foot, searching, meeting RK’s in the center of the bed. “Hey, stop hogging the pillows,” Gavin grumbled, burying himself into RK’s side. Meatball meowed in betrayal as she had to find another spot.

“Mm, good morning,” RK murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, too well,” Gavin groaned. “Late for work.”

“I seem to have already prepared a message for Fowler that we required today off as well,” RK said innocently. “He was quite accepting.”

“Was he, now.” Gavin rubbed his eyes, smiling up at RK. “Playing hooky, eh? Can’t say I’m mad. You rebellious little fucker."

“I figured you would approve.”

“What do you want to do, then? What’s the weather going to be like? Nice again?”

RK cleared his throat, then projected in a clear, broadcaster’s voice, “It’s 10:07 am in Detroit, Michigan, sixty six degrees, partly cloudy with a ten percent chance of rain at seven pm. Your horoscope for today is - “

Gavin rolled on top of RK and silenced him with kisses all over his face, loving the way his husband smiled at him, loving that he got to do this every day with RK. Five years, and every day felt like the first, yet somehow, incredibly, so much better. “I don’t want to know what happens,” Gavin declared. “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“As always,” RK said, taking his hand.

“As always,” Gavin agreed.

They stayed in bed a little while longer.