Chapter Text
Reed had his flaws, but he had never shown up to work intoxicated. He had never felt the temptation to do so. But the way that liquor bottle seemed to be calling out to him as he got dressed was making it hard for him to focus. He hadn’t slept, which was nothing new, but the thoughts that kept him awake were not the usual nightmare fuel that made up his past experiences on and off the job. No, this anxiety had been much different.
Anything to numb his thoughts would be welcome, as he was trying and failing to calm the electric thoughts zapping through his brain. A mixture of feelings and worries and implications that he could not allow himself to linger on for more than a moment, or else it seemed to bring up many more questions. And feelings. And ideas. Dangerous ideas.
He dug a knuckle into the spot between his brows as he walked out of the front door, hoping the pressure would somehow push the thoughts from his mind. His sleep deprived brain could have sworn the liquor twinkled in the morning sunlight, a sort of signal that expressed ‘last chance!’. He slammed the door a little too hard on his way out.
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“Detective, my office, now.” Captain Fowler's voice carried across the office the moment Reed entered the room. Most officers continued their work, but a few eyes looked his way, notably Hank and his little metal playmate. They both observed with no shame, Hanks' face barely disguising his amusement. Connors was more curious than anything, and it struck Reed how odd it was that he could look so different compared to Nines when they had the same face. The eyes were the obvious giveaway, Connors big browns giving him the appearance of a lost puppy half of the time. Nines’ sharp, blue gaze was more than just a cosmetic difference. The way he looked at Reed, his jaw tight, brows furrowed-
Reeds hips slammed into the corner of Tina’s desk. “Fuck.” He winced at the pain and the loud noise of her personal effects being knocked asunder.
“Jesus, Gavin.” She said, exacerbated, “What are you, drunk?”
“I wish…” He mumbled under his breath, continuing his walk to the Captain's office. From his vantage point he could see caution tape blocking off the breakroom, the coffee maker now precariously perched on a nearby empty desk. His anxiety grew tenfold. Had the security footage already been passed around? Was he about to be fired for destruction of government property? How the fuck was he going to find a new job after being labeled some sort of robo-diddler? That sinking feeling turned into full on nausea when he saw Fowler sitting at his desk, speaking to Nines as he stood at attention.
Shoving his hands deep in his pockets, Reed sunk into his well-worn air of nonchalance and moved into the room. The conversation came to a halt, Fowler looking up at him. The Captain’s eyes were investigatory as he surveyed Reed. RK900, on the other hand, kept his attention locked on Fowler, as if they were still the only two people in the room.
“Well,” Captain Fowler leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms against his chest, “I’ll have to believe that there was no physical altercation, seeing how the Detective doesn’t resemble the cabinet.”
“As I said, Captain, I wouldn’t risk my job picking a fight that presents no risk to my wellbeing.”
“You have to understand my concerns when my most volatile team were the only two badged in when significant damage was done to our office.”
Reed could feel his blood pressure rising as the Captain and RK900 spoke as if he wasn’t in the room. He opened his mouth, ready to express that sentiment, but the two barreled on.
“I’m sure the Detective would be the first to alert you to any of my wrongdoings.” Nines’ voice took on the slightest sharpness, causing Reed to turn his attention to the android. He maintained his unwavering eye contact with the Captain.
“And the camera feeds being glitched to shit was completely unrelated?” Captain Fowler asked, eyebrows raised.
“The lack of funding to our department leading to obsolete security systems seems like an administrative issue.”
What followed was an extended silence, Fowler and Nines locked in a staring contest, while a confused Reed looked back and forth. Fowler seemed to give-in first, sighing and dropping his arms to his sides.
“You’ll have to just take my word,” Nines stated, “Reed wasn’t present when my hardware malfunctioned. I can get my things and hand in my badge.”
Reed’s eyes widened in shock, a tight feeling in his chest overwhelming the previous anger. “Hey, wait-“
“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Fowler stated, punctuated with an eye roll, “It’s a countertop and a cabinet door. I would garnish your wages, but seeing how I have no actual evidence of your involvement-“
“I just told you I did it.” Nines interjected, eyebrows creased in confusion.
Fowler gave him a knowing glance, speaking more intently, “Since I have no actual evidence , I will let the limited funding we do have cover repairs. What I will request is that you go to one of those Cyberlife facilities and get… whatever the equivalent of a doctor's note is to assure me that nothing like this is going to affect you on the job. Understood?”
Nines opened his mouth but seemed momentarily at a loss for words, something so out of character for him that for just a moment, his features seemed to soften. Reed may have imagined it, as just a second later Nines found his voice again, his face stoic, “Yes sir.”
“Alright, get back to work.” Captain Fowler dismissed them by immediately turning to work on his desktop. Nines made his exit without hesitation, and Reed awkwardly followed behind. What might have been a complaint about wasting his time died on his tongue as he watched RK900 return to work without a word.
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Only one call disrupted the cascade of paperwork that filled what felt like a never-ending day. The investigation was already over before it began, the obvious presence of a drug related death leading this to be an ATF issue, not a homicide, but the detectives still did their due diligence. A sample collection here, a reconstruction there, and within under an hour the likelihood of any suspicious circumstances were ruled out. Tina walked up to Reed as he moved back towards his car, RK900 close behind.
“Wow, no bickering from the old married couple?” She said with a small nudge to Reeds ribs. His anxious gaze dipped back to his partner, who only stared forward, clearly pretending not to be listening. Reed sped up his pace to the car.
“Just trying to do my job.” His voice was curt, and he swiftly outpaced his colleague. She let out a small scoff, clearly used to the Detectives behavior at this point.
“You guys' better kiss and make up so I get some entertainment at work!” She laughed, turning back to the scene, as Reed swung into the driver's seat and slammed the door with too much force. The night air was oppressively humid, and it made him too aware of his skin. He felt warm and irritable.
RK900 sat in the passenger seat without a word and Reed turned over the engine, letting it idle for a moment, hands tight on the wheel. He chewed on his cheek, leg bouncing. The silence only lasted a few seconds but Reed thought he might implode.
“So, do tin cans have a habit of lying to their bosses?”
“Excuse me?” For the first time today Nines acknowledged Reed's existence, turning in his seat. Reed immediately felt a horrible mixture of relief and frustration as those blue eyes began baring into him.
“Oh, look, he speaks.” With a huff, he continued, “Look, if you’ve got that footage and you’re planning on holding it over me, think again. I’m not going to be blackmailed at my job. Plus, you’re the one who asked for help. Maybe- maybe I acted… unprofessionally, but I- well I wasn’t trying to…”
Reeds ranting slowly lost steam as he watched an unfamiliar expression creep over RK900’s face. The LED at his temple, which had been a steady yellow all day, was now flashing red. His lips had parted slightly, his brow knit, pulling up in the center, vibrant eyes widening at every word. What was this? Reed was terrible at telling others' emotions outside of the interrogation room. Was it anger? Disbelief?
Hurt?
Clamping his mouth shut into a thin line, RK900 returned to glaring out the front windshield, “Drop me off at the station.”
A fight was one thing. A snarky word or cold shoulder even. But whatever this was set Reed's teeth on edge.
“What, I’m wrong? You just decided to take the blame when I-“ Reed couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, aware that he was teetering on the edge of some sort of admittance of guilt. He didn’t need to feel guilty, he was just helping, like he had said. Nines was fine, they hadn’t actually done anything. “When we- I mean come on.” An indignant laugh fell from his lips at the idea. The muscle in Nines’ jaw twitched, but otherwise he remained perfectly still in his seat. That anxiety that had wracked Reed all day felt like it was going to fry his brain.
“Okay fine-“ Reed really wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, feeling the defensive need to fight building in his throat like bile, “So you’re suddenly some sort of selfless hero? Or-“
Don’t
“Did you just realize-“
Stop talking
“That you’d look like some sort of fucking freak if they saw the footage?”
Whatever satisfaction Reed hoped to feel at his words was instead drowned in immediate, unadulterated regret. Nines didn’t move, his facial expression becoming blank. The red blinking LED slowed, settling back to a solid yellow. Reed froze, watching the miniscule transformations in Nines until he seemed to be absolutely inhuman. No emotion now broached his face or voice as he calmly repeated, “Drop me off at the station.”