A lot of harm, as it turned out. Reed stumbled through the bullpen the next morning, tired and barely awake. He had dark, purpling circles around his eyes as he dropped the reviewed files on his desk with a wince at the loud slap they made. He didn't even notice that Hank was already up in Fowler's office, or that there was a third person in there with them. He stalked towards the break room, still mostly asleep as he leaned over the old coffee machine and waited for one of the cups to fill. He rested a tired arm on the machine as he stared blankly at the paper cup. Coffee...coffee...

"Hey Gav! Did you see-What the fuck happened to you?" Tina demanded from the doorway, her tone dropping in concern and reproach as Reed looked over his shoulder with an evasive air. He knew what he looked like. Lack of sleep had made his skin pasty, enhancing the darkness around his eyes and the pink of the scar across his nose. He'd likely get chewed out by Fowler as well, once the older man got a good enough look at him. Tina was in her usual patrol uniform with her hat neatly pinned in place, ready to head out with either Miller or Collins. She rested her hands on her hips as she waited for a suitable explanation.

"Would you believe me if I told you I'm just sick?" Reed checked in a grumbling, gruff tone that told her he hadn't used his voice for the past few hours and he hadn't had his coffee yet. The machine finally ground to a halt, trickling out that steaming nectar of life. Reed closed his eyes as he smelled the cup. Coffee. Bad coffee, but coffee all the same. Tina almost winced as she watched him drink it down like it came from the Holy Grail. The machine never made the coffee hot enough to burn. He grimaced in satisfaction as he lowered the cup.

"Not a chance! Up all night on a case?" she pressed with a sigh, still leaning in the open doorway.

"Something like that," he replied evasively, leaving out the part where it was actually two nights. One of which he was supposed to have been resting. He groaned tiredly as he resigned himself to returning to his desk. He'd already noticed a couple more files waiting for him, and that was alongside all the emails he'd have waiting, and the reports to complete, and the leads to follow up. Witnesses to call. Forensics to chase down. Phck, I should have slept last night. He barely said goodbye to Tina as he left the break room, accepting the sympathetic pat on his shoulder as he went. His ass was mere inches from the seat of his chair when he heard it.

"Reed! My office!" Fowler yelled from the glass door of his office, though it wasn't an angry shout. He hasn't seen my face yet...Reed groaned in resignation as he pushed himself up and strode across to the glass box with slumped shoulders. He was so busy looking at his feet that he still didn't notice the quiet, almost anxious, presence that hovered near the door. Reed rubbed a hand over his face and took a seat, noting that Hank had remained standing by the wall rather than taking the chair beside him.

"What do you need, Sir?" Reed was too tired to want to piss off his boss. Fowler seemed to notice as he sat down. His hazel eyes twitched between annoyance and concern as he took in Reed's slumping form. Reed had expected a comment, but it seemed whatever they wanted to talk about was more important right now. Fowler looked across at Hank and then shifted his gaze behind Reed. Reed heard the light, measured steps and realised they weren't alone for the first time. He jerked around on instinct and was out of his seat in seconds. It tumbled with a hard thud as he stumbled away from the somewhat timid looking android, almost falling into the glass.

"I-I apologise! I didn't intend to frighten you," the RK800 apologised sincerely in that same fake, not quite right tone of voice. It was a creepy thing that service androids had. The simpering fake lilt that just screamed they weren't human. Reed had managed to catch himself on the edge of Fowler's desk and slowly straightened up, though he was cautious. "Hello again, Detective Reed." The polite greeting was almost sheepish. He leaned down and picked up the chair, motioning a timid invitation for him to sit.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Reed grunted, feeling strangely numb as he took his seat. He edged it further away from the RK800, shifting to the side so that he had a good view of all three people. The RK800 was different. He could tell straight away. There was this odd brightness in his soft hazel eyes that hadn't been there before. The flicker of life that came with deviancy. He was also a little more awkward, clearly worried and uncertain as he laced his fingers and looked over at Hank for support. Hank looked over at Fowler. Fowler sighed, seeing that it was down to him.

"I'm going to level with you, Reed. We're in the shit." He knew Reed couldn't argue with that, and he let out a hum to say so. That was progress at least. He knew something needed to change. He was open to solutions. Fowler knew he'd need to tread carefully. "We're a few dozen men down without our android officers, and having Hank on extended leave isn't helping. We need more manpower." So far Reed agreed. It all seemed perfectly reasonable. They needed able-bodied officers. People with experience who knew how to do the job and could lighten the load.

"Yeah, tell me about it!" Reed agreed with a nod as he sat forward tiredly, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers in a more relaxed manner than Connor. Fowler nodded his approval with a slight glimmer in his eye. Reed wasn't sure he liked that, but he was listening cautiously. Hank had folded his arms, suddenly tense as they came to the point. He knew Reed's feelings about androids. Connor in particular.

"An experienced detective...or perhaps someone who was designed to perform as a detective..." Fowler added meaningfully, letting the words hang. Reed nodded along thoughtfully until he froze. He shifted his sharp green eyes to Fowler before darting them across to the RK800, who was looking apprehensive but ever so slightly hopeful. Reed cursed inwardly. Of fucking course, they wanted to bring back that plastic prick. "It would also be a good way to show willingness and encourage integration," Fowler continued quickly, and Reed couldn't argue with that. Maybe the RK800 could encourage a few more androids to come back in the long run. God knows we need it...

"And you want to hire this toaster oven back, of phcking course!" He sighed heavily. He felt a little exasperated, but not nearly as much as he'd expected. Maybe he was just too tired. His somewhat sharp tone had made the RK800 wince a little, but that seemed way better than Hank or Fowler had expected as they shared a hopeful look. "So? Why do you need me here?" Reed asked cluelessly as he looked over at Fowler, who flipped open his FBI report.

"I wouldn't usually, but there's this. Whether I agree with it or not, Connor assaulted you and you have every right to take it further with HR. There's no point in me hiring him if I have to dismiss him right away," Fowler replied, levelling with Reed. In other words, he wants me to let this shit slide. Reed allowed himself a smug smirk as he turned his chair to face the RK800. Didn't he have a name or something? Cody? Conrad? Con-something...Connor! Pretty sure that's it...Connor seemed genuinely worried, hazel eyes drooping into a puppy eyed look that almost had Reed feeling sympathetic. Almost.

"I really am sorry, Detective, but you left me little choice. I had to defend myself," Connor said in a sincere tone, and that was perfectly true. Reed had levelled his gun at him, fully intending to pull the trigger. Luckily, that had been before the revolution, and shooting an android hadn't been a crime back then. In fact, Reed had been doing his job, protecting evidence from a potentially hostile deviant android. He shivered a little as he imagined what would have happened if he had shot Connor that night. Unless Cyberlife had another spare body hanging around, that could well have affected the revolution. Without Connor, the humans forces wouldn't have found themselves so severely outnumbered. Reed made a non-committal grunt in response.

"Reed...Letting him come back would look good on your record...As a member of the AAL, it would be a step in the right direction towards your rehabilitation." Fowler's suggestion was clearly strategic. Reed's head snapped towards him so fast he almost cracked his neck. He wasn't a signed up member of the Anti-Android League, but he did have close ties to many members of the group. Before the revolution, it had been a fairly small organisation that promoted human worker's rights. However, since androids had become free people, it had twisted into something much darker. Reed had actually been drifting away from the group. He felt increasingly disturbed by the graphic torture images, cruel jokes, and downright prejudice that was being spewed unfiltered onto the internet. It was a new form of racism, and even though he wasn't a fan of androids, Reed just couldn't condone the things he'd seen. "I know. You're not an official member...You know I'd have had to let you go if you were," Fowler added, and Reed nodded his agreement. The police force couldn't allow members of an openly racist organisation to remain in its ranks.

"You got anything to add to this, old man?" Reed asked as he shifted his attention to Hank. Hank had opted for his zebra shirt that day, and was looking quite neat beneath his leather coat. The design wasn't as loud as Reed had come to expect, not that Hank would care either way. Reed wasn't sure why he cared so much about what Hank thought. Hank seemed equally surprised by the question. It had been a long time since Reed had cared for his opinion on a professional level. It had been a long time since he'd been qualified to give it.

"You're an asshole, but I think you're smart enough to know Connor coming back is a good idea...You said it yourself. We're snowed under with cases and understaffed." Reed sat back, inwardly nodding at Hank's words. Hank was right, and he could tell there was more to it. Hank didn't need to say it, but Reed could see it. He wanted Connor to come back and work with him. They were partners. Reed hadn't had a partner in years, at least not a permanent one. He grabbed Miller or Tina to go along to crime scenes, and he'd sometimes work in teams undercover or on big busts, but most day-to-day things he did by himself. It suited him these days. Not having a partner meant he could focus on watching his own back. Hank was different. He thrived on having someone there. Someone to mentor. Someone to bounce ideas off. Someone to stop him if he went too far. Someone to balance him. He hadn't thought about it at first, but Hank and Connor really did complement each other. Their age, their experience, their personalities. Everything was somehow opposite, but worked in perfect tandem.

"Please, Detective. I really want to work here," Connor pleaded finally, his large doe eyes still gazing at him hopefully. It was odd, hearing an android speak in terms of wanting things. They were machines. Designed to obey humans, with no needs of their own to fulfil. Reed crossed one leg over the other, regarding Connor with a level of thoughtfulness he'd never had before. Connor was surprised by the scrutiny, unsure what he should do with himself. He shifted a little in his seat, something he wouldn't have done before. He was clearly nervous. Nervous about what Reed would say. What he would do. What he would decide. There was relative silence as Reed thought it over. Only the rustle of clothing and Hank's exasperated breaths filled the void.

"Phck it, just do what you want. I won't go to HR...Just keep it out of my way," Reed sighed eventually, almost surprised by the tremor in his legs as he pushed himself to his feet. Suck it up! You know this is what working for over forty-eight hours straight does to you. He quietly hoped the other three people in the room wouldn't notice his feeble state. Unfortunately, with a blink of yellow, he could feel Connor's soft eyes gazing at him. Picking him apart at the molecular level. It made him shiver. It was fucking creepy. "Don't look at me like that, Tin Can!" he added almost defensively, motioning to the door questioningly as he eyed Fowler, who nodded. He could leave for now. Fowler clearly had some things to settle with the other two.

Reed walked to the door, trying to keep his back straight and his head high as he did so. He was usually good at faking. Phck, how long has it been since the last time I pulled this shit? I must have been in my twenties...He returned to his desk, allowing a single yawn as he stood with his back to the large office. He stretched his arms above his head, his back aching as he arched his spine. He sat with a groan, feeling every single one of his thirty-six years as he leaned back in his seat. He grabbed the barely warm coffee and downed it, hoping the added caffeine would give him the kick he needed.

He glanced at the office once or twice as he worked, wincing as he opened the latest file. It was a new homicide. Android victim. The body had been drained of thirium and then smashed up. It was so badly mauled he couldn't even make out the face to identify the model. He wasn't an expert, but he remembered what a few of them looked like. It seemed like more than a hate crime. It was drained of thirium...We usually find that when red ice is involved...Staging a hate crime to cover up the link? Or was the hate crime just a sick bonus? He sat there for so long he was unaware of the fact that he was now just staring at the messed up photos without really seeing them. He was completely lost in thought.

"Dete-" a soft voice began before abruptly cutting off. Reed didn't even notice at first through his fixation. It took him a few long seconds to realise someone had spoken, and that the person was standing right over his shoulder. Reed jerked back to himself as he noticed the looming figure. The file almost slipped as he turned his chair a little and looked up to see Connor's LED flashing between red and yellow. He flipped the file shut uncomfortably and put it on his desk. He didn't know why, but he felt awkward, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Sorry, lost in thought...What do you want?" he asked almost defensively, one hand still resting on the closed file. The small circle slowly settled to yellow. Connor was regarding him in an almost guarded manner. Maybe it was just Reed being tired and a little paranoid. It felt like Connor was judging him, but as far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to warrant it. Not since the incident in the evidence locker anyway.

"I just wanted to say thank you, and I look forward to working with you again, Detective Reed." Connor's response carried a little more of his old, honest enthusiasm. It was grating. He's such a phcking boy scout!

"Oh no, that wasn't the deal. The deal was I stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine. Do that and we'll be just peachy," Reed said dismissively, viewing the conversation as finished. He waited for Connor to retreat before flipping open the file once more. He wasn't sure what it was about the sick photos that drew his attention so raptly. His brow pinched as he stared. It was grotesque. It was the equivalent of looking at a human body that had been cut up with an axe and hammered into mush. Was it the same person who drained it that then smashed it to pieces? It was so violent...Could someone so clinically hook up an android to drain off its thirium, patiently wait for a few hours, and then flip a switch and mindlessly smash it up? Seems a little off...An accomplice? A coincidence? Deliberately throwing us off? He was still staring at the blue stained shards as Fowler appeared in the door to his office.

"Reed! My office!" he called, drawing Reed's raised brows. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but he flipped the file shut before distractedly meandering up the steps. He almost missed Connor walking by as he headed inside. Fowler motioned him to take a seat, regarding him silently for a few moments. It was almost like he was trying to figure him out, to gauge his innermost thoughts. Reed felt somewhat clueless as he waited. "How are you doing with all this, Reed? Honestly...I know you've had issues with androids for a while, so how's the transition going for you?" Fowler asked hesitantly, using a soft and almost fatherly tone. Reed's brow furrowed in confusion. The concern wasn't unwarranted, but it had caught him a little off guard.

"How am I..." Reed trailed off, finding the question had come somewhat from left field. It wasn't that he hadn't expected it to come up at some point. He expected Fowler to have this talk with everyone. He just wasn't expecting it right then, when they were so snowed under with all the extra work. The timing was weird. "Honestly...I haven't given it much thought. I guess I'm too busy to deal with that shit right now." He shrugged as he spoke in grumbled tones, quietly feeling a little vulnerable without the security of his leather jacket. The precinct was warm, so he'd left it over the back of his chair. The tight, long-sleeved V-neck he wore was comfortable, but it didn't give him the same sense of comfort and security that the loose leather did.

"How are you handling these new cases? It can't be easy...We've dealt with broken androids as simple property damage until now, so suddenly viewing them as homicides must be odd," Fowler probed, hawklike eyes watching for any small twitch. Reed ruffled his own thick locks, still unsure where his superior was going with this whole conversation. Sure, it was a little inconvenient at first. It had made his workload sky rocket. At the same time, he followed the rules. If the law said androids had to be treated like people, then that's what he'd do. It was his job to do it.

"It's increased my workload, that's for sure," Reed admitted gruffly, Fowler nodding his understanding. It was a complaint many had voiced about the new setup. Some of those people had been dismissed. Others were on the list to be retrained.

"And what about the AAL? I've been keeping an eye on things...Not just on you, on everyone around here with ties to the group," he added reassuringly, which Reed understood. It was Fowler's job to make sure his officers stayed inline and did their jobs without bias. Reed couldn't help the links he'd forged with the AAL in the past. He at least didn't feel the need to defend himself now. Yes, he still checked out their internet pages and watched their conversations, but he hadn't taken part, and he hadn't met up with any members over the past two months. That was when the group had quickly started to change, almost leaning towards extremism.

"I guess you could say we've parted ways...I keep up-to-date on stuff, but the whole outlook of the group has shifted..." Reed replied with a slight chill. It's not me. I'm not like that. He could repeat that as much as he liked, but he remembered exactly how it had felt when he'd fired his gun at Connor a few months back. How the righteousness had coiled in his chest. The small kick of excitement. Taking way too much pleasure in doing his job. On reflection, he'd begun to think that perhaps he had a few more issues than he cared to admit.

"I see, well that's promising...In a few days we're going to begin some special retraining courses...Android awareness, compassion in the workplace, dealing with prejudices, that sort of thing. Attendance is mandatory, and there will be certain...assessments." Fowler fully expected Reed to explode with indignation. He knew the hot-headed detective hated anything to do with psychologists, feelings, and androids in general. He was pleasantly surprised as Reed merely nodded his head, looking thoughtful and somewhat distracted. He also looked damned tired. "I'll send emails about the training as soon as things are set up." Fowler's tone was dismissive. Reed nodded and got to his feet, once again passing Connor, whose LED flickered between yellow and blue as they crossed paths. He turned curiously as he sat, noting Connor's eyes shift towards him as he spoke to Fowler in the office. Why do I get the feeling I'm under a microscope?

"Fuck, that shit's nasty!" Tina observed with a low whistle as she appeared at Gavin's shoulder and caught sight of the file he'd opened again. Reed grunted his agreement, still finding his eyes somehow drawn to the grim sight of the pictures. I probably look like some sort of phcking serial killer leering at them like this. He flinched as he closed his eyes and massaged the scarred bridge of his nose tiredly. Why was he so focused on these photos? He'd seen plenty of mauled androids over the past few months. This has to be the worst one though. Phck, it doesn't even look like an android...He looked down at the file again. "That's quite a look you have there...Want to talk about it?" Tina asked quietly, not missing the way Connor kept eyeing them from his place beside Hank's empty desk as he returned. Hank was still on leave, but Connor had opted to start right away and get things ready for when he came back.

"Yeah...Yeah, maybe I do, thanks," Reed admitted with a sigh, allowing Tina to lead the way into the break room. He wasn't sure why, but he'd kept the photos in his hand. As he stood at one of the tall tables, he spread out the five pictures. He just stared at them as Tina made some coffee. She knew better than to think Reed would start talking without his caffeine fix. Reed glanced up in acknowledgement as she returned to the high table and joined him in examining the photos.

"So, are you going to keep burning holes in the table, or?" she trailed off meaningfully, watching Reed's lips quirk a little at her tone. She was almost chiding him. He finally tore his gaze away, though he still fingered the edge of one of the pictures. It was curling at the corners where his fingers kept flicking, bending, and teasing it. That was something Tina had often seen him do when he was thinking. If he was thinking, he was fiddling. She was pretty sure he'd have his stress ball if he remembered where he'd put it.

"This is just...It goes beyond any hate crime I've dealt with before. I mean, look at this shit! The toaster's in so many pieces, it would take a phcking army to put it back together again!" He ground the words out, once again looking down at the carnage. Shattered shards of plastic. Twisted, coiling wires. Fragments of fibreglass. All of it was stained with thirium from the busted bio-components. It didn't even look like it had once been human shaped. "Someone drained its thirium and then just...they just went to phcking town," he added with more than a hint of disgust. He slipped his hands into his denim pockets, feeling restless since he couldn't burrow himself into the hood of his leather jacket.

"You're right, it's pretty fucked up." Tina hadn't seen damage this bad outside a scrapyard. The android had been found at night in an old warehouse. Somewhere they'd usually find kids causing trouble, or the odd drug deal going down. The floor was dark cement. Wet. There was probably a hole in the rusted roof letting in the rain. "So, what are your thoughts?" she asked curiously as she sipped her coffee, watching as Reed slowly began to pace back and forth in front of the round table.

"I don't know...I'd say it's definitely red ice related. There's no other reason to drain an android of its thirium like that...At the same time, I just can't see it being the same person doing this!" he added as he waved his hand towards the pictures. Tina had to admit, he had a point. It took some level of skill and control to hook up an android to the right instruments, and patience to wait and control the flow while draining out the oily blue liquid. It was a little more complicated than a human transfusion, as far as she knew. On the other hand, the violence directed at the machine afterwards had been uncontrolled. Blind rage.

"The android could have just been tossed out and found afterwards?" Tina suggested with a small shrug. Reed nodded his agreement. It was certainly plausible, but the thirium inside was still blue. That meant it had only been a few short hours since it had been exposed to the air. Maybe forensics will be able to tell us when the android went offline...But that would take a while to find out. Probably a few weeks at the rate things were going down there. "What's really bothering you though? You've looked at crime scene photos before, but you've never looked like that."

"I guess...I guess I wonder if I ever had it in me..." he admitted in a mumble, kicking at the linoleum floor with a light scuffing sound. "I almost shot him, you know...The RK800. Connor...Hell, I would've hit him if he hadn't dodged." He wondered if he was just feeling a little too tired and worn for all this. He never usually had such intense thoughts, or obsessed over things like this. Usually, he'd just put it down to shitty behaviour. He was an asshole. He knew he was an asshole. At the time, he hadn't seen Connor as being alive. Do I even see him as being alive right now?

"I remember that. I also remember it kicking your ass!" Tina teased lightly, Reed's lips quirking in agreement. The bruise was long gone now, but it had lingered for a good few weeks. Reed considered it quietly, thinking back to the evidence locker. Only this time, instead of a gun, he had a solid metal bat in his hand. What would it have been like to swing it down? To feel the blunt force of it against Connor's head? Hitting and hitting until he was just a pile of crushed circuits? He recoiled with a shiver, the bat stilling in his hand before he'd even taken the first swing. Big brown eyes stared up at him filled with fear, lips frozen in a pained wince, and he just couldn't do it. "I've known you a long time Gav, and this? This isn't you. You could never be that hateful. Not even to a machine." Tina's tone was soft and sincere, filled with confidence. She watched something loosen in Reed's shoulders.

"Thanks, T," he murmured quietly as he sipped his coffee, somehow reassured by her words. They remained a little longer, talking over a few locations for the thirium to have been drained. It could have been a private home operation, or part of a larger scale venture by one of their main gangs. The body could have been dumped somewhere else and then dragged to the warehouse later on. The lack of electricity and prints in the building suggested that the drain hadn't taken place in that particular warehouse. A call eventually came in and Tina had to go, so Reed dragged himself back to his desk to glower at the photos by himself once more. He couldn't say when it happened, but eventually, he leaned forward on folded arms. Just to rest his eyes for five minutes.