Chapter Text
Ping. Ping. Ping.
The pitter-patter of rain against the nearby glass window was a constant distraction for R.K., whose blue eyes re-read the same sentence on his terminal for the fifth time that night.
For a being with the highest form of intelligence, the android had been struggling to keep his thoughts focused, for the past many weeks. R.K. supposed his thoughts had never truly been one-directional since his ‘awakening’; a tumultuous network of firing synapses originating from his hard drive - a central nervous system for androids - attempting to congeal instructions, ever-growing knowledge and self-reflection into logical behaviour, though struggling to achieve such an outcome.
As R.K.’s eyes drifted around the room surrounding him, he realised that it was coming up to being nineteen months since the android had joined the D.P.D., upon his predecessor’s insistence. Joining up with Detroit’s finest detectives had been an interesting experience to say the least; R.K. learning much of human interaction and behaviour from those he closely worked with. And a lot he had learned indeed.
Though there were many questions that still plagued R.K.. Questions of the existential kind. Given that he hadn’t really been ‘awake’ for long, this was not unexpected.
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
Blue eyes flickered to the left, looking up at a familiar face that wore a chagrined expression.
“No,” was R.K.’s dismissive response.
As expected, the face before him changed from chagrined to indignant.
Detective Gavin Reed.
R.K. til this very day, struggled to describe exactly what it was that he felt when it came to the man. Their initial encounter, well over a year ago had been… explosive. Well, it had mainly been Reed yelling himself silly and turning a beet-red upon learning he had been assigned an android partner, while R.K. had just silently watched him. After realising that his yelling would achieve nothing, the human had ended his tirade and R.K. had simply walked away. Apparently that had caught Reed off guard, as nobody had reacted that way to him in the past (most people supposedly reacting violently toward him) - or so R.K. had been told by other fellow detectives.
The rest of their days together and subsequent attempt at relationship-building had been challenging to say the least. R.K. dealt with the man as an older human would with a petulant child, rolling his eyes and standing his ground when Reed’s demands and behaviour became irrational; the android choosing to do what he was going to do anyway despite Reed’s protests.
Obviously the concept of two detectives choosing to do what they wanted, rather than working as a cohesive team failed, which lead them both into an irate Captain Fowler’s office. The threat of being jobless didn’t sit well with either Reed or R.K. so they had begrudgingly made a pact to work civilly together in the future.
If along the way they had both grown to have mutual respect for each other, because really, if you both ended up ‘saving each other’s asses more times than you can count,’ as Lieutenant Anderson had put it, there was only one way the relationship could ultimately head.
Mutual respect turned genuine friendship. (R.K. didn’t quite understand the reaction that sentiment evoked within him).
Ping. Ping. Ping.
“Are you serious?” Reed demanded, still indignant.
R.K. merely shrugged, making the other man click his tongue in response. “I asked you if you were going to Hank and Connor’s… thing?”
Hank and Connor.
Imagining Gavin Reed referring to the pair as that a year ago, would have been laughable. Yet so much had changed within that time.
The thing the detective was referring to was the New Year’s Eve party that Lieutenant Anderson was hosting at his home. Funnily enough, it had been the lieutenant who had suggested they should host it this year at his residence. His situation and outlook in life had clearly changed drastically, within the last two years as well.
R.K. simply raised an eyebrow, pretending not to follow, making Reed roll his eyes in response.
“You know what I’m talking about, you jerk. You were there when they invited us all. So are you going or not?”
Looking back up at the man, R.K. noticed how the almost perfectly symmetrical face was attempting to conceal the expression of frustration seeping through; how full lips were pulled together in a pout - although Reed would never admit it. He noticed how pretty gray eyes lingered a little too long on R.K.’s own pale blue, attempting to persuade, without the detective being consciously aware of the fact.
All these observations R.K. had been… fascinated by, when he had gotten to know the human better. How Reed’s face always betrayed him - not that the man had ever attempted to conceal his ire. His vulnerability though, Reed seemed to want to hide, but was never able to completely do so. At least not from R.K..
The insecurities hidden beneath the veneer was a map - a pathway into Reed’s soul, his very essence. And R.K. found this phenomenon of human vulnerability… beautiful.
The chaos of sensations that this knowledge evoked within R.K. became overwhelming at times.
Dark hair that became mussed when the human ended up sleeping on his desk, after hours spent at the D.P.D, chasing work that never ended. Soft skin felt under mechanical fingers when R.K. succumbed to the urge of brushing back this hair from the sleeping man’s forehead. Scar across the bridge of a nose that hid secrets that R.K. had been privy to, had been trusted with. Eyes, with immeasurable depth, that became surprisingly gentle when a case hit too close to home, or when encountering people that had suffered great loss. Those same eyes that shed silent tears in frustration, in pain, in empathy. Eyes that R.K. had seen - had been allowed to see.
Ping. Ping. Pingpingping.
The spray of rain against glass grew louder, heavy droplets running along the length of the window while condensation developed on the surface. R.K. could almost feel the moisture in the air on the surface of his tongue.
There were few things in the current material world that R.K, in its truest definition, found beautiful. Detective Gavin Reed, R.K. would never admit aloud, was one of them.
(There was that unexplainable feeling reverberating within his mechanical chest again. The same feeling R.K. was becoming terrified of).
R.K. simulated sighing, a gesture the android had come to appreciate. “I’ve got work to do,” he answered Reed, turning back to his terminal, eyes focusing on the same paragraph he had re-read multiple times that night.
Reed clicked his tongue in frustration once again. “So does everyone else Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding. You are allowed a day off. Well in this case, even a night off.”
The detective walked closer, placing the palm of his hand on R.K.’s desk. He was so close that the android needed to only move a hairsbreadth for the tips of his fingers to touch Reed’s own, for R.K.’s fingers to reach up just so in order to pull at the front of Reed’s jacket. Reed was so impossibly close that R.K. could feel the heat from his body almost suffocating him - which was ridiculous a concept, seeing as R.K. didn’t need to breathe.
Pingpingpingpingping -
The android had to push his chair away from his desk in order to give himself space, Reed’s eyes following him; the sensation of overwhelming emotions drowning out any coherent thought in his head.
This was dangerous territory.
This had to be avoided.
“These androids are going to continue to do reckless things,” R.K. responded, without looking back up at the other detective. “The longer we take to get to the bottom of this, the greater the risk to the public increases.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Reed threw his hands up in frustration, pulling back from the desk. “I’ve been working this case as long as you have! One night’s less of work isn’t going to lead to complete doom and gloom.” The shorter man attempted to draw R.K.’s attention back to him. “You’ve been so obsessed with this case man. You need to take a break!”
“What’s this about R.K. not taking a break?”
R.K.’s attention was reflexively drawn to the older man walking towards R.K.’s desk, the android grateful for the momentary distraction. Hank Anderson came to stand directly next to Reed, where they both stood across from R.K.; his predecessor trailing behind the lieutenant.
“He said he’s got work to do, so he can’t come to your thing,” Reed replied, eyes still trained on R.K.
Lieutenant Anderson’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Is that so? I know you’re more advanced and smarter and blah blah blah than us human types, but you’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep down this road kid. Even androids need a break once in a while, isn’t that right Connor?” The grey-haired man turned his head to address the android standing off to the side of him, who simply smiled in return.
R.K. could tell that it was a smile more in sympathy with R.K. even if on the surface it was an effort to appease the lieutenant.
<I’m sorry. I know this seems like an attempt to pressure you.>
R.K.’s eyes locked onto his predecessor’s, acknowledging the message sent to him digitally via the android interface.
<If I say I’ll come, will this whole intervention stop immediately?>
Connor tilted his head to the side marginally, his sympathy remaining. <I can understand why you wouldn’t want to attend. I’m only coming around to the idea myself. The concept of large human gatherings is still somewhat daunting to me.>
Empathy was an unusual emotion for R.K. to wrap his head around, so to speak. His systems were always in direct conflict with instructions that were hardwired into his programming, so anytime he felt empathy, it was as if he was always at odds with himself. It was not a pleasant feeling, though as time went on, R.K. seemed to be in better control of it all.
Eyes shifting away from Connor’s brown, R.K. could feel that same empathy when he regarded the other android’s words. His predecessor still struggled with the outcomes of his interactions with his human handlers, in particular a woman named Amanda, who as it had turned out, had not been human at all. The same woman who had been R.K.’s own handler. The same woman who had had no qualms about replacing Connor with a superior model.
So for R.K. to feel empathy in this case was not unusual.
The android sighed again, before getting to his feet; all pairs of eyes following his movements.
“Fine,” R.K. conceded reluctantly, addressing Lieutenant Anderson. “I’ll see you at ten o’clock then, Lieutenant.”
R.K. could feel Reed’s gray eyes boring into him. From the corner of his eye, he could see the man’s fists clenched tightly at his sides as R.K. continued to not pay him attention. Over time, R.K. had come to know that Gavin Reed didn’t particularly care if people tended to ignore him. It had been something he had apparently come to expect. Though, for one reason or the other, R.K. had realised that he was an exception to that case. It seemed to really get under Reed’s skin, if R.K. was the one to continually ignore him.
This discovery had originally been amusing to R.K. (being one of the many things that added to R.K.’s fascination with Reed) but now, with all the existential questions that crowded the madness of thoughts in his head, R.K. wondered if this would be the hardest of things to overcome when he inevitably had to distance himself from Reed.
R.K. subconsciously swallowed, in a gesture that was entirely too human.
The rain outside grew louder.
Before he could be met with any more questions or sentiments, he had already turned on his heel, on his way out of the D.P.D..
“I told you it was Hank!” was yelled out from behind him, to which R.K. just waved a hand dismissively.
He had made his way through the double doors, the voices behind him dying down, but not before he had caught sight of confused gray eyes watching him leave. Vulnerable eyes that had slowly been losing the battle to keep hurt from showing within them, making R.K. feel like an asshole, for the nth time these past many weeks.