Another week brought another smattering of simple cases. A second week brought a new set of vivid nightmares. More draining therapy sessions. More talking about his feelings. Dealing with his past. Dealing with his present. He'd avoided calling Elijah since sneaking out of his place at six in the morning two weeks ago. His brother had respected him enough to send only two messages and one email, leaving it in his hands to get in touch again. Gavin was at least functioning on a normal schedule, mainly because of Hank and Connor's meddling. They were still swiping the majority of his cases and shooing him out of the bullpen the minute his shift ended.

He'd spent so much time lounging around in his apartment that it was almost becoming more of a home to him than the precinct. At least he had Pipsqueak. Pipsqueak seemed pleased to have him around more. As pleased as a plastic cat can be, anyway. He couldn't count the times he'd fallen asleep on the sofa with the fluffy silver bundle curled up and purring on his stomach. He'd also been playing basketball a lot more, making up for lost time with the kids. Some of them were finishing up high school this year, always willing to listen to advice about where to go next. Reed was generally happy with whatever they chose, so long as it was off the streets.

It was a Wednesday morning after a day off, and Reed was tiredly dragging himself through the bullpen with a coffee from the break room. He was just passing Miller, vaguely wondering what case he'd get that day, when he stopped dead. The cup almost slipped when he saw it. Sitting there. Sitting where no one had sat in over two years. The phck? He was already scowling as he stormed across the room, heat coiling in his chest. Coffee sloshed over his hand and splashed the desk as he slammed the cup down. He didn't notice the burn on his skin, too intent on the thing sitting in Jack's chair.

"Get up! Get the phck up and get away from there! What the phck do you think you're doing?" he demanded in a blind rage as he gripped the android's black shirt at the throat and yanked him up. The face that was so much like Connor's looked mildly surprised as he allowed himself to be dragged from the chair. Reed continued pushing until his back hit the wall a few feet away, glaring up with molten rage in his emerald eyes, lips curled in a snarl. The android tilted his head as he scanned Reed's vitals, unsure what he'd done to deserve such treatment.

"I was directed to use that terminal in order to-"

"You don't phcking sit there! Don't touch that terminal! Don't phcking touch anything! You got that?" Reed growled, roughly shoving the RK900 against the wall again for good measure. It was a threatening gesture, one that likely would have intimidated a good many officers. The RK900 was not one of them, but he remained silent. Reed's stress levels were rising, his heart beating rapidly, hands trembling with adrenaline. The RK900 swept his silvery eyes around the large office space, noting that the majority of officers were keeping their heads down. No one wanted to tangle with Reed when he was in this sort of mood. The only ones who would intervene hadn't returned from the archives yet.

"Reed! My office," Fowler called from a glass door to their left, making no comment about the position he'd found them in. He didn't wait for him to respond, having already retreated inside the glass office. Reed looked after him bitterly, shoving the RK900 into the wall one last time with a frustrated huff. The RK900 allowed it, LED spinning yellow as his back hit the plastered wall. Looking up, he could see Hank and Connor returning, the latter speeding up a little as he noticed them by the wall.

"Don't you phcking move!" Reed prodded the android's shoulder for good measure before stalking up to the office, ignoring Hank as he asked what the fuck had crawled up his ass. The door slammed louder than it probably should. Reed tried taking a few breaths, stalking backwards and forwards before the cluttered desk. He didn't know what to say or how to calm down. He was so angry. That was Jack's desk! It had been his desk since they'd started working together. No one else had ever sat across from him. Coming in and seeing that android sitting there had been a nasty shock.

"Reed, sit down." Fowler's voice was firm but gentle as he watched Reed briefly consider arguing before throwing himself down with a huff. He leaned his head on one hand, elbow resting stiffly on the arm of the chair. Fowler regarded him steadily, wondering how to put it delicately. "I didn't mean for you to find out like that...I thought I'd catch you as you came in." Reed almost scoffed at the apologetic tone. "Connor put in a recommendation, and after looking at his resume, I had no reason not to take on the RK900." That was fine! He didn't object to that. Fowler was their captain, and hiring new recruits was his job. It made sense he'd be taking on more androids, what with the diversity rules slowly creeping in.

"Sure, but what the phck is it doing at Jack's desk? That's where my partner sits, and last I checked, I didn't agree to any of this shit!" Reed's waspish response was about what he'd expected. He'd actually asked Dr Marr about how he could broach the subject, but she'd said a simple response was best. Reed would accept it because his superior ordered it. He'd be resistant at first, but after weeks of sessions and talking to his co-workers, Dr Marr agreed. Reed needed someone. He'd gotten too used to the idea of working alone. Dealing with things by himself. Working on his own schedule. Constantly watching his own back without relying on anyone else. It wasn't healthy, especially with some of the more dangerous cases he worked.

"Gavin...Jack's been gone for a long time now, and I've been patient...I've let you have your space. You've done brilliantly working by yourself and taking on the extra workload, but it's time...You know I wouldn't partner you with just anybody. I've been looking for someone who'll match well with you, and I think the RK900 has those qualities." Fowler talked over him as he scoffed and gruffed his objections. He was angry and upset, and never good at keeping his temper in check. He was probably going to be in the gym for a good hour to blow this one off. That was fine. Fowler had expected as much. He hadn't quite expected him to manhandle the RK900 the way he had, but hopefully, Connor could help smooth things over and avoid an HR incident.

"What? And you couldn't find anything better for me to work with than a...a Connor with a phcking palette change? You know I phcking hate androids! The amount of complaints you get from forensics, and you want to partner me with that phcking thing?" They both knew it was less about the RK900 and more about what he was going to lose. Jack's empty desk. That feeling of permanence. The irrational hope that maybe it was all a mistake and Jack would just walk in one day and give him shit about letting his desk get so dusty. Fowler remembered that feeling himself, and he knew it wouldn't get any easier until someone else claimed that space. If anything, he'd allowed it to go on for far too long.

"Detective Reed, I've made the decision as your superior. The RK900 is a new detective, so see that you train him properly." Fowler watched Reed's jaw clench as he got to his feet and stormed from the room without another word. The RK900 was hovering awkwardly near Hank and Connor's desks, hesitant to return to his own seat since his outburst. Reed ignored him as he marched over and grabbed the lapels of Connor's jacket. Connor's LED flashed yellow as he scanned him, holding up a hand to signal Hank to lower himself back into his chair.

"Right now?" Connor asked softly as he reached up to touch his hands. Gavin bit his lip in silent admission, green eyes darting to the floor and away. "Alright...Go and get ready for me. Five minutes." Connor was extraordinarily gentle as he eased his grip on his grey jacket. Gavin nodded silently before stalking off, leaving him to finish up whatever he was doing and seat the RK900 in his own chair to wait. Hank gave the RK900 an almost fatherly look as he grumbled out an assurance that everything would be alright. Not that the RK900 needed to be told that. He was more than capable of handling himself.

Gavin stalked down the hall and threw the changing room door open. The few officers around shuffled away as he tore his locker open and started to change, pulling on a black top that clung to his arms and torso and some equally tight leggings. Once his trainers were laced, he headed into the gym to stretch out, though what he wanted more than anything was to lay into the nearest surface. He would have done just that if Connor hadn't joined him. It had been a while since they'd sparred, but they had a little agreement. If he ever needed a beat down, Connor would provide it. It was safer and more controlled that way.

"Are you ready?" Connor asked as he stepped into the gymnasium, black shoes clicking on the wooden flooring. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his suit. He adjusted his tie in a way that would seem cocky coming from anyone else. Gavin knew it was just another one of his weird programmed quirks. With a curt nod, they began. Gavin threw the first punch, feeling Connor's arm raise expertly to deflect his fist. He managed to lift his knee on the way by, sinking it into Connor's side and watching him double over with a small grunt.

"Don't you phcking do that! Don't adjust your settings to go easy on me!" Gavin huffed in frustration as Connor straightened up with a hand on his waist. Gavin watched the flickering yellow of his LED before launching a second attack, grunting as he was tossed aside like a sack of potatoes. He was up again in moments, running at Connor in an attempt to grapple him. Connor easily slipped out of his hold, once again forcing him down to the mat. Connor refused to fight any other way. Safety conscious asshole! Gavin aimed an angry kick at his knee. Connor easily caught his ankle, lifting until he fell on his back breathing heavily.

Gavin rolled to his feet again and spent the next hour getting knocked around by Connor, who barely ruffled his jacket. He was content to let Gavin do all the work, wearing himself out as he ended up on the floor again and again. He finally stayed down, lying on his back and staring up at the towering ceiling. Connor knelt beside him. Judging by Gavin's vitals, he was done. His stress had levelled out, leaving behind a lingering fatigue. Despite feeling tired and emotional, he did an impressive job of hiding his inner turmoil.

"Needed that...Thanks," he gasped as he caught his breath, pushing himself up on his elbows. He was sweating a little, something Connor would never have to worry about. Connor looked like he wanted to say something, maybe offer some sort of reassurance. Gavin flopped down again, feeling it as his muscles slowly started to cool and tighten. He knew he should be stretching down, but he really didn't feel like moving just yet. His chest was tight, his pelvis was sore, and his legs and arms were trembling from overuse.

"I'm confident that the RK900 will be an excellent partner, Detective, if you give him a chance." Reed scoffed resentfully as he glared at the ceiling. What the fuck were they thinking, putting him with an android? Did they forget his recent history? How could they think he'd make a good role model for that thing? And what about him? The last thing he wanted was to have cookie-cutter Connor following him around with a constant stream of pleasantries, nagging and babying him all the time.

"Connor...he's basically you with a palette change! Do you really think you and me would last five minutes as partners?" Reed scoffed as he sat up, noting Connor's slightly irritated pout. He wasn't sure why though. Sure, they'd sort of worked together before, and maybe it hadn't gone too badly. Technically, that case hadn't closed yet. They still hadn't tracked down the sickos that tore up that kid-bot. Maybe he was more offended at being compared to his creepy twin...

"The RK900 is...very different. He is stronger, faster, and more advanced than I am...His social programming is also developing differently from my own. He and I are not the same." Reed sighed almost dismissively and rolled onto his knees, accepting the hand up as Connor stood and pulled him to his feet, registering the increased skin temperature from the workout. "Captain Fowler and Lieutenant Anderson both agree that this will be a mutually beneficial arrangement." Reed bent over tiredly, unconvinced that it would be anything less than a disaster.

"I'm going to take a shower...Do me a favour and keep that thing away from Jack's desk until I...until it's ready," Reed amended stiffly as he dropped his gaze. Connor took on a softer, more sympathetic air as he agreed. Reed tapped his shoulder with a grateful sigh and watched him walk smartly from the room before dragging himself to the showers. He really envied Connor for that. Androids didn't get tired or dirty, and they didn't get stiff muscles, so Connor was just back at his desk and ready to go. Meanwhile, he had to drag his sorry ass to the showers and lick his wounds while washing off the sweat before it dried. He felt almost bitter that he'd fought so hard for so long and come out of it with barely a scratch or bruise on him.

He took a little more time than usual, though perhaps he should have been quicker. He didn't know how long Connor was planning on keeping the RK900 occupied. After fifteen minutes, he was dressed and on his way back to the bullpen. It seemed Connor had waited for his return. He got to his feet as soon as he caught sight of him and smoothly suggested that the RK900 join him for a walk around the precinct to get a feel for the place. The RK900 didn't argue as he followed his predecessor, sharp eyes fixing almost searchingly on Reed on the way by.

Gavin shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as he approached Jack's desk and took a last long look at it. This was the last time it would be Jack's desk. The dark and disused terminal, the framed picture of Jack with his wife and daughter, the cluttered notice board full of old notes. Faded, curling papers that hadn't been relevant in years. An old lanyard was still hooked over his notice board. It was from a concert they'd gone to over ten years ago now. There were other pictures pinned to the board. Jack, Gavin, and Tina in the break room. Hank locking Gavin in a headlock. A picture of Gavin and Jack on Gavin's promotion from Officer to Detective. A picture from Jack's wedding. Tina playing with Kitty. Sandy and Gavin sitting in deckchairs while Kitty climbed onto his lap. There was a cup of pens, one of those Number One Dad mugs. A small brown bear sat nestled between the cup and the terminal monitor, another Father's Day present. At the back was a large framed picture, an old one. One they all had. It was a department photo taken just after Hank's promotion to Lieutenant, back when they'd worn uniforms all the time. Hank and Gavin had given up on that a few years later with their promotions.

"Here, I found a box for you." Hank's gravelled tone was laced with sympathy as he appeared at his elbow. Gavin gave a stiff nod of thanks as Hank put the cardboard box on the table. Those boxes were usually used for evidence storage in the older archive rooms. It was a good size. Likely too big for the remnants of Jack's life that had been left on and inside his desk. Gavin started by picking up the framed photo. He almost felt self-conscious as he pushed it around to his own side of the paired desks. A light squeeze of his shoulder was Hank's only acknowledgement as he stayed close, ridding the board of the old messages after reading each one to make sure they were done with. Of course they were done with. Those cases were over two years old, reminders and plans long laid to rest.

The pictures, mug, and bear were all safely nestled in the box, along with Jack's golden nameplate. Gavin delved into the drawers as Hank brought a duster to clean off the glass surface, remaining a close and supportive presence as Gavin crouched by the drawers. Damn, I'd forgotten this shit...Nostalgia swelled in his chest as he grabbed the faded grey stress ball and unfinished Rubik's Cube. There were old batteries that Gavin tossed straight into the trash. Old case notebooks, like a diary of Jack's thoughts, made their way into the box. Gavin's throat tightened as he opened the bottom drawer and found a familiar black sweater. It was a light wool sweater that he'd bought for him because he'd always complained about being cold in the office. Jack had kept it in his bottom drawer just in case. That went in the box, along with a spare tie and tie pin.

Part of him knew he should go over to Sandy's and take the items back, but it had been over two years now. It would be awkward seeing her after so long, and how could he look her in the eye anyway? The funeral had been bad enough. He'd managed to grind his way through a speech about how he'd been the best partner and friend, and how dedicated he'd been to both the force and his family. It was all he could do not to break down and let it out right there. He didn't know if Sandy had been filled in on the details. That he was the one who'd tripped the door and killed her husband. He'd been too ashamed to contact her since. She could have moved away for all he knew.

"Come on, son, sit down...I'll bring you a coffee," Hank encouraged finally as he noticed Gavin staring at the box and fingering the soft sweater. Gavin didn't argue as Hank lifted him up and led him around to his chair. He set the box out of the way underneath the desk before taking Gavin's mug and disappearing. When he came back, he brought paper towels to clean the splashes of cold coffee from the desk before setting the fresh cup down. "You'll be alright," Hank groused as he tapped Gavin's shoulder and leaned against the desk.

"I've managed so far..." Gavin sat forward and picked up his mug, not missing the silence Hank gave in response. It was debatable whether he'd been managing or just barely coping, to be honest. That fainting episode with Connor had taken them all by surprise. He'd been steadily working himself into an early grave, and his superior had been too damned drunk to notice and too confrontational to give a damn. Maybe he still wouldn't give a damn if he didn't have Connor there to keep him on track.

"I have a feeling this'll be good for you...It's about time you got your own rookie," Hank teased, trying to lighten the mood and soften the unexpected blow. On reflection, it was probably better that it had happened this way. He didn't have time to stew over it or build any extra resentment towards the RK900. Reed huffed in response. He hardly thought that androids designed for detective work counted as rookies. Connor had certainly adapted to the work quickly enough.

"Sure, my very own personal nanny-bot. Christ," Reed cursed as he took a sip of coffee, scowling into the cup as he savoured the watery bitterness. He didn't need a partner. Especially not some android. Though, given the choice, maybe an android's better...Easier to replace when I phck up and get it destroyed. It gave him little comfort to think like that. Hank sighed fondly as he drank his own coffee, the far off look in his eyes suggesting he was thinking about something nice.

"You remind me of when I first got partnered with Connor. Fucking androids, I said. I'll never want to work with one, I said...As partners go, Connor's the best I've ever had. I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back out there." Reed couldn't argue with that. He'd watched their bond form. From the day Hank had pointed his gun at him in the interrogation room to the day he'd punched out Perkins so that Connor could go snooping in the evidence locker, Reed had known they had something special. Since then, their relationship had only gotten stronger. He treated Connor like a son. There was nothing he wouldn't do for that kid. That included cleaning up his act and getting sober. Hank hadn't been late once in the past month.

"That your plan, old man? Stick me with an android and have it straighten me out?" Reed scoffed as he leaned back in his chair, the heat of the cup soothing his temper as it burned his hands. God, he'd missed this. He hadn't noticed before, so used to going without it, but having Hank there, talking to him like he gave a damn, brought an unexpected warmth to the pit of his stomach. It was comforting. Reassuring. This was the old Hank. The Hank who'd always checked in on how his cases were doing, made sure he had everything he needed, and gave him any advice he thought might be useful.

"Well, nothing else has worked!" Hank accepted the light kick to his shin with a low chuckle, watching as Reed moved the photo of Jack and his family to the far corner of his desk. Somewhere he could see it when he was at his terminal, but where it wouldn't be easily knocked off or noticed by other people passing by. He idly checked his inbox for any case updates, finding confirmation that the body found at the creepy manor was definitely Zlakto. It was pretty open-and-shut. The androids had admitted it. It had been done during the revolution in self-defence. They couldn't be charged for it.

Hank stuck around for a few more minutes. He couldn't go out on a case without his partner, so all he had to do was type up reports. Typing reports was often slow, boring work, so it didn't surprise Reed that he was slacking off for a while. Once his cup was empty, Hank dragged himself back around to his own desk and continued his reports, leaving Reed to write his own. Not that he had many. Hank and Connor had been taking all the big cases recently. Maybe that will change now they've stuck me with Connor's creepy twin.