Reed sank into his chair with a groan and scooted closer to the desk. His shoulder still ached like hell, but damned if he was going to sit at home and leave his cases dangling. He'd already wasted enough time sitting in the hospital. They'd kept him in for an extra day after he'd woken up. The bullet had been successfully removed while he was still unconscious, so it was really just replenishing lost fluids and making him rest. Apparently, he'd been suffering from moderately severe fatigue and moderate malnutrition before the injury. Unfortunately, he'd had no privacy while being told this information and Nines had been on his case about it ever since.

"Do you need anything? Water? Juice?" Nines asked as he pulled off his white jacket, which he'd cleaned the night before. He'd also cleaned up Reed's leather jacket. How he'd managed to get the blood out, he had no idea. He was lucky the bullet hadn't punched a hole in the new leather. Reed slipped his own jacket off his bound shoulder before trying to shrug his arm out of the sleeve. Nines was there in seconds, gently pulling it down like a doting parent. It made him feel both embarrassed and cared for.

"Nines, I'm not a phcking invalid! Just...get me a coffee?" Reed sighed as Nines took the jacket and neatly slipped it over the back of his chair. He watched Nines' LED flash yellow as he stepped in front and gave him a firm stare. Reed sighed and leaned his head against the rest as he slumped back in his chair. He already felt pretty low from the medication and constant aching. He almost groaned at the kitten eyed look he was getting.

"In order to aid in your recovery and improve your health, it's my belief that we should limit your caffeine intake. The amount of coffee you consume on a daily basis is...quite alarming," Nines objected in an almost hesitant tone. He watched Reed scowl up at him with barely suppressed rage. He wasn't usually this temperamental. Nines didn't exactly understand pain or fatigue, but from what he'd researched, his reaction was expected in his current, stressed state. That he was low on caffeine was also a strong factor. The chemical was highly addictive, and he'd already been cut off for a day in the hospital. He'd only been permitted water and juice there.

"Nines...First thing in the morning? Probably not the best time to limit my caffeine intake. Please?" he added with veiled impatience, looking up with big green eyes. He had no idea if he could still master the look, but it had always worked on his mother as a kid. Nines felt his thirium pump stutter. Reed had never looked at him like that, but it was an expression he recognised from Connor. It was what Reed had dubbed his puppy eyed look. With the green of his eyes, Nines thought his gaze to be far more feline than canine. Nines knew he shouldn't be swayed by such things. However, I did suggest limiting his intake, not denying it completely.

"You may have one coffee now, but no more until lunchtime." Reed thought that compromise was fair. He nodded his agreement before using his good arm to reach down and turn on his terminal. Nines headed off to the breakroom, leaving him an open target to Hank and his smug expression as he leaned back and folded his arms. Connor continued typing away, but he was aware of Hank's amusement.

"Never thought I'd see the day...Gavin Reed taking orders from an android." There was no real bite in his teasing tone. Reed felt his cheeks heat a little. He was right. It hadn't even occurred to him to tell Nines to fuck off and mind his own business. He could have. Nines was his android, after all. He could order him to make him ten coffees and drink them all as payback while making him watch. A few months ago, he would have. But Nines is just looking out for me. He's worried about me...Shit like that matters.

"Says the drunk who hasn't touched a drop in half a year!" Reed shot back smugly, watching Hank huff in defeat as Connor sat a little straighter, buzzing with pride. He was clearly pleased that he was the reason for Hank's improved health, and it had been a long road. "And don't think I haven't noticed the exercise regime, old man. You've been shedding the pounds." Connor turn his head to look at Hank. He couldn't tell, but he was pretty Connor's expression would be one of warmth and pride. Hank seemed a little embarrassed by all the attention, squirming in his seat. It had been a lot more fun when Reed was the one being called out.

"Damn Reed, you been checking me out?" he teased as he leaned a little further over his own terminal.

"You wish, old man!" Reed quickly looked away so that he didn't have to think about that question too much. Checking out was a little too strong a word for it, but sure, he'd taken notice. Hank had been pretty hot in his earlier years, and seeing the teddy bear fat slowly turning back into muscle was just something that his eyes noticed. Judging by Hank's silence, he assumed he'd decided to drop the subject. Thank phck! The last thing he needed was for his reputation to suffer.

"Your coffee," Nines' voice almost purred in his ear, a gentle hand resting cool and firm on the back of his neck. He gasped in surprise, a small shiver running down his spine. There was a ceramic tap on his desk as Nines put down his steaming mug, body bending around his shoulder to do so. He was wearing a dark brown turtleneck that day, which almost looked black depending on the light, much like his hair. Reed turned his head to find Nines' blue eyes already watching him. The realisation sent an almost static jolt through his chest.

"Thanks..." His voice was barely a whisper. Their gazes lingered. The dull ache in his shoulder eventually reminded him that time was a thing, and he'd been staring at Nines for quite long enough. He turned his head and sat forward, and the hand slipped away as Nines returned to his own desk. "Has anything been figured out yet?" Reed knew that Hank and Connor had at the very least arrested Matt and his friend, though they were still at the hospital.

"The condition of the two assailants is still too severe to allow for questioning. However, Mr Jones has been most helpful in identifying other likely suspects...Thomas Parker, Andy Colt, and Gary Palmer. They are friends of Matthew Jones and regularly visit the yard for parts. Mr Jones didn't see the harm in it since they were his son's friends, and he believed they were just fixing up old vehicles to sell on...After checking into Mr Jones himself, it is my belief that he had no knowledge of his son's activities." When he'd done all this research, Reed had no idea. He hadn't left his side once for the past two or three days. He'd remained sitting at his hospital bedside, and then he'd taken him home in a taxi and endlessly fussed over him. He'd cleaned the house, made food, insisted on helping him change, cleaned and bandaged his injuries. He'd been like a personal nurse. And he was running all this shit in the background, too?

"Did Connor tell you all this?" Nines nodded his agreement.

"I remained wirelessly connected to Connor so as not to miss any details about the case. I was able to draw my own conclusions from viewing proceedings and liaising with him on a regular basis." The profiles of their three suspects popped up on his screen moments later. It was odd, knowing that Nines had been so actively involved with Connor while also giving him his full attention at home. He had so much processing power it was almost unsettling. It shouldn't surprise me. I've seen Connor holding two conversations at once. "There is little information available on Gary Palmer beyond his school records. He went to the same school as Matthew Jones, and has no criminal record. Thomas Parker has been apprehended numerous times for traffic offenses, including speeding and illegal parking. Andy Colt has been arrested for possession of drugs and an illegally obtained firearm in the past. He has suspected links with the Old Detroit Bangers, one of the smaller gangs based on the west side of the city." As he spoke, he brought up the three pictures and records he had available. Reed nodded as he reviewed the data.

"We should bring them in for questioning...Think you can handle it?" Reed asked as he sat back in his chair. He knew there was no way he could take an active role in the interrogation. He was on light duties until his shoulder healed, and showing weakness to a suspect was less than wise. Nines nodded his agreement. He hadn't actually run an interrogation by himself yet, but he was programmed with the ability.

"Hank and I will assist," Connor offered from his desk. Reed nodded his agreement. It was a good idea for moral support, and they always needed two teams during an interrogation anyway. One set for the actual interrogation, and one set to act as witnesses and control the electronics. "Would you like us to pick up your suspects?" Connor continued as he rose to his feet expectantly. Well, there's no way I can do it. Reed's brow pinched in frustration. He really felt useless.

"Thanks, and take this fucker with you...I'm sick of looking at him." He used a gruff but teasing tone as he kicked Nines' foot beneath the desk. Nines gave him an almost wounded look at his request. He hadn't left his side since the injury had first occurred. What if he needed his assistance? What if someone tried to hurt him? How could he protect him if he wasn't there? "Go on. You need a break, too," Reed insisted as he nodded towards Hank and Connor.

"But Detective-"

"Get the phck out of here! I'll write up some reports while you're gone," Reed cut in as he shuffled through a stack of papers. He held up his chosen file before flicking it open and bringing up the report template he had saved. Nines still hesitated. They wouldn't be gone too long, and he did say he was going to remain at his desk. He shifted his blue eyes to Connor, who motioned for him to follow as he tugged on his grey blazer. "Don't make me order you, Toaster," Reed warned as he started typing. There was a low creak as Nines got to his feet and tucked in his chair.

"I'll return shorty then, Detective." Reed grinned at his stiff tone. That was pretty much Nines' way of sulking. He nodded and gave a final wave of farewell. He couldn't help his sigh of relief as he heard the trio head off. He wasn't sick of Nines, not at all, but he'd been hovering constantly. He paused as he noticed the red light on his webcam turn on, huffing softly as he flicked the lens. Seriously? You haven't even left yet! He signed it in full view of the camera, chiding Nines with his amused eyes. He didn't expect a response as he continued to work. He tried not to think too much about the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest and forced down a smile as he typed.

After a while, he forgot about the camera. He was too busy focusing on the file as he put it into report form. It was one of their simpler cases, so that kept him busy for about thirty minutes. He attached it to an email and sent it to Nines, who had taken over checking his work from Connor. I should probably get my incident report over and done with, too...He opened a new file. He'd had a hospital visit and discharged his firearm, so he had to write up what had happened. It was simple enough. Hank had already taken his statement at the hospital, and he remembered most of what he'd said anyway.

He typed it up, trying to recall every detail of the incident. Unfortunately, things were a little fuzzy after the bullet pierced his shoulder. He remembered the blur of movement and the sickening crunch in his ear. The flop of a body on the dirt a few feet away. He'd heard multiple shots fired, huddling down while gripping his shoulder. He'd heard Nines' static growl as he'd charged the second guy. He remembered the fear and the creeping cold as Nines had settled before him, snarling like a wild animal, crouching protectively. His silvery eyes had been blank. Like a stranger. There had been no consciousness behind them, but somehow he'd still known that he was important. He was his partner. His human. No one would get within more than a foot of him. He just about remembered when Hank and Connor had arrived, but it was mostly a blur right before he'd passed out.

"How are you holding up Reed?" Fowler asked as he approached his desk. He looked up questioningly. It was rare for Fowler to come to his desk to ask such things. "You've received two serious injuries over just a few days...It must be a lot to take in," he added in a gently prying tone as he leaned on the edge of the desk. Reed shrugged evasively. He wasn't about to say he had trauma or anything like that. Number one, he definitely didn't. Shit happens sometimes. Number two, if he even hinted at something like that, he'd be out of the precinct and into therapy within ten seconds flat. Oh, hell no...

"I'm fine, Sir. Really!" He knew from the way Fowler raised an eyebrow that he didn't believe him for a second. "Was I scared when I got blinded? Absolutely. That shit was terrifying, but it cleared up in a day! Did I expect to get shot on my first day back? No, but I'm a detective! We both know that this shit happens sometimes." He left his mostly finished report for now to give Fowler his full attention, silently pleading with his eyes. Fowler stood and rested his hands on his hips, much as he had all those years ago when Reed had first been brought into the station. It was the day Fowler had called him out on his bullshit, making it clear he'd never be cut out for the gang life. He'd told him there was too much good in him for that, and he'd be better off joining the other side.

"I don't think you're having a mental break, Gavin, but I do think it would be a good idea for you to speak to someone in your downtime." Fowler's tone clearly told him that the suggestion was an order in disguise. Reed sighed and sank back in his chair, levelling a glare at him. "Just go along and see Dr Sanders. She's expecting you." Reed's brows shoot up. Now? He felt blindsided. It wasn't like he could do anything on their case until Nines got back, but he hadn't expected to be cornered like this. The sudden news made his stomach churn with dread.

"Yes, Sir." He sighed in defeat as he saved his document. There was no arguing with Fowler once he'd made a decision. If I find out you had something to do with this, I'll turn you into scrap! He leaned down to sign at the camera, levelling his best mad, but not really scowl at the lens. He generally managed to avoid psych evaluations. Either they were too busy and he managed to put it off until it was forgotten, or he managed to make the paperwork disappear.