Nines was a fucking saint. Reed had no idea how he knew, he just did. It was fucking unsettling. After leaving the clock tower, Nines led him to a quiet diner, where he decided what he would eat and drink. He picked a sandwich and some fries with a mixed fruit juice, balancing the healthy with the unhealthy. They sat at a quiet table in a dim corner where they wouldn't be noticed or disturbed, letting him calm down and regain some of his self-control. It was calm and quiet. As Reed recovered, Nines internally reported the incident to both Fowler and Dr Marr, which he resented, but understood.

After Reed had numbly eaten as instructed, Nines told him they would return to the precinct on foot. He hadn't argued, walking obediently at his side. There was probably something funny about a non-deviant android giving a human orders, but Reed wasn't together enough to feel it. He wasn't in a fit state to feel anything. Letting Nines lead was just easier. Everything was so fucking raw. He wanted to drag Connor to the gym and fight until he was fucking done. Too done to think. Too done to care. Instead, he walked with Nines.

Nines chose a slow route, one that cut through a large open park. Kids were running around, playing games. There was a basketball court crowded with teens. People cycling, sitting on picnic blankets and benches, eating a late lunch, sharing ice cream. It was peaceful. The air was still sweet with that humid summer scent. Reed stopped about halfway through just to watch some teens shooting hoops. Nines was content to stand beside him. His vitals had finally evened out to something approaching normal. Back at the precinct, Reed had a short check-in with Fowler and insisted that he was fine to work his shift. They were only going on a stakeout. It was hardly difficult, and Nines could take the lead if need be.

Nines interfaced with Connor when he returned, quietly letting him know what had happened without drawing attention to it. Connor's LED flashed yellow as he gave him a sympathetic nod and settled down with Hank to file their report of the day before leaving. Reed let Nines drive the car, having promised he'd take it easy. Nines had gone soft on him. He let him have an extra cigarette break and ignored the two extra coffees he'd snuck in. He also stopped at a drive through on the way to the house to order him a large meal and insisted that he eat.

"Thanks...for today." The words were quiet, grumbled under his breath while he pointedly looked out of the window to avoid Nines' piercing eyes. Instead of answering verbally, Nines rested a hand on his thigh for a moment as a sign that he'd heard and accepted. They sat on the street corner, far enough down from the darkened house that the occupant wouldn't see them. The pickup was in the driveway and the curtains were drawn, with soft light glowing around the edges. There was an eerie stillness in the street, not another soul to be seen. The problem with it being so quiet was that it left them free to talk, and Reed wasn't in the talking mood.

"What do people usually do on missions like this?" Nines asked after a while, noting a need to fill the void with something innocuous. Reed had finished his meal, the packaging left screwed up on the backseat besides the soda cup sitting in the cupholder. Reed knew what he was doing. He could easily look that up in his directory or message Connor about it, but he was grateful for the distraction.

"Just wait and watch...It's pretty dull and draining work. There's no guarantee that anything will happen tonight, and that can be frustrating as hell. It could take days for this guy to trip up...If he's our guy." They were all pretty fucking certain this was one of the sickos they were looking for. Nothing else really made sense. It was too much of a coincidence, both the missing days and seeing him with a YK600 matching Richard's description. "This is where people usually gossip...You know, talk about work and bitch about coworkers." Nines' head tilted curiously. Of course, he's never gossiped before...

"Connor has been attempting to teach Sumo to play fetch," Nines shared uncertainly, watching Reed's expression soften in surprise. Cute. It wasn't exactly gossip, but it was innocent and mundane news. He could imagine it, too. Connor patiently cooing as the large Saint Bernard loped cluelessly around him. Sumo was pretty old and Reed was a little surprised he didn't know how to play already. Then again, Hank hasn't exactly been the playful type for the past three years...He felt a little sorry for Sumo having to deal with that.

"I bet he hasn't gone for the ball once." Reed gave an almost knowing smirk as he sat back in his chair and watched the house.

"Correct. Connor is confused, as he clearly recognises the ball as such. He will watch and chase, but has yet to return it successfully." He could imagine that, too. The large furry beast lolloping across the grass to stare and bark excitedly at the old tennis ball, proud that he could show his master that he'd found the missing toy. Connor would coo and encourage him, but Sumo would simply snuffle and bark proudly until he gave in and walked over to get the ball himself. Connor would then praise him for trying so hard and try again, showing him the ball before throwing it. "Lieutenant Anderson believes Sumo is too old to learn such things at this stage, but Connor remains hopeful," Nines added softly as he, too, watched the house.

"And what does your advanced software predict?" He knew he would have run the numbers.

"There is a forty-eight percent probability that Sumo will learn to play effectively before Connor rescinds his efforts." Reed's lips curled in amusement. Those were pretty good odds. Connor liked a challenge. He hadn't given up on talking to him, even after all the shit he'd pulled. At the first sign that he was receptive to his niceties, he'd redoubled his efforts. If he could hold out long enough to break through his thick skin, there was no question he'd hold out long enough for Sumo to learn to play fetch. He loves that damned dog...

They continued their trivial conversation. They spoke about the progress Markus was making on new android rights laws. New thirium based food and drink products were slowly entering the market, and multiple new software upgrades were in development. They also covered what little Nines knew about the office, only trailing off into silence a few times. Reed's eyes fluttered gradually the more time dragged on. He knew he couldn't fall asleep. He was on the clock. Rubbing a hand over his face, he glanced at his watch and realised they still had three hours left. Nines assured him it would be alright for him to rest, but that wasn't procedure. He was an officer on the job. It would be unprofessional for him to do that, so he ordered Nines to make sure he didn't fall asleep, which led to more than one rough shake of his shoulder.

"Light's off...You think that's it for tonight?" Nines hummed in agreement, confident that was the case. Just because they desperately wanted something to happen that night didn't mean that it would. It was the same with all stakeouts. Desperate longing, impatient waiting, often without results for days or even weeks at a time. At around twelve forty-five, Nines messaged Miller to give him an update on their location and the level of activity in the area. He pulled away just as the unmarked car came into view, but didn't turn on their headlights until they'd pulled away and passed the house.

Back at the precinct, Reed slumped in his chair. He was tired. Bone tired. Everything that had happened that day, along with the eight hours of monotony he'd just subjected himself to, had left him feeling completely and utterly fucked. Not in a good way, either. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. He knew what would happen if he went home. There was no way he was sleeping peacefully that night. Not after going to the tower. Not after the things Perkins had said. He leaned forward with a groan, reaching out to turn on his terminal and start his report of the evening.

"Your shift has ended. You should go home." Nines' firm hand on his arm stopped him from turning on his terminal. He almost glared at him, but fuck, he knew it was coming from a good place. Still, good intentions didn't exactly mean anything. Sending him home wouldn't grant him the rest he needed. Staying at his desk wouldn't solve anything either. I should check on Pipsqueak though...Pipsqueak would be waiting for him. He'd left plenty of thirium out just in case, but it was still a little cruel to leave him sitting alone for so long, even if he was just an android cat.

"Alright...Guess I'll see you tomorrow," he murmured in defeat, slowly pushing to his feet. Nines stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. He was being extra pushy that day, and it wasn't lost on him that Reed was allowing it. His body was obedient. Rather than jerking away, he paused at the light touch. His fatigue and weariness were obvious, etched into his pale skin and the dark rings beneath his tired eyes. It was hardly surprising after the day he'd had. Nines felt something. A tightness in his own chest...pity? — Empathy? Sympathy? —

"I will drive you home," Nines said softly as he held out his hand. Reed didn't put up a fight. He was too tired to drive anyway. It's likely he would have fallen asleep before even starting the car. Nines followed him out and guided him into the passenger's seat, where he leaned against the window as Nines took the wheel. Reed's address was listed in his file, so he already had directions up in his peripheral as he drove. He monitored Reed's vitals, noting the way he jerked in and out of consciousness, deliberately keeping himself awake, afraid of what he'd see if he closed his eyes.

At his apartment, Nines climbed out and opened the passenger door. Reed was half asleep as he followed the gentle hands on his arms, stumbling his way up to the door and fumbling his way inside. He didn't question it as Nines followed him in. Piercing green eyes met his as he shut the door. The silver feline was sitting on the back of the small sofa, regarding his human and his strange new companion with an air of curiosity. He hopped down on light paws, cautious as he slinked his way across the floor. Nines had never seen a cat up close. He crouched for a closer look, holding out his hand the way Connor had shown him with Sumo. The cat edged forward, fur crawling back to interface as they touched. Nines was surprised. He hadn't expected an android pet, though it was certainly more humane considering Reed's busy working schedule. The interface suggested curiosity, hunger, and a desire for physical contact. The pet model wasn't advanced enough for more detailed communication. Nines obliged, lifting the furry creature into his arms and running his fingers through the soft fur.

Reed stumbled his way into the modest bedroom, blindly shrugging out of his clothes and leaving a trail across the floor before collapsing face down on the scruffed up duvet in just his tight boxers. While Reed went to his room, Nines looked around the kitchen and ensured the android cat had food. Small mewls of appreciation reached his ears as the feline wove between his legs and flicked its tail. He found some thirium sachets tucked away in a high cupboard, a specially made formula for the android pet series. Small paws touched his knee, claws kneading as he opened a sachet and squeezed out the gel.

With that mission complete, Nines returned his attention to his partner. A small knot tightened in the pit of his stomach as he noted his state of undress, examining the plains of bare human flesh. Scars littered the surface, old cuts and bullet wounds. Thirty-six years of life. Around fifteen years on the force. He vaguely wondered if all humans in law enforcement would look so battered after such time, but on reflection he decided it was more likely that Reed's rash nature had gotten him in trouble. He approached the bed quietly, slowly laying his hands on his bare skin and rolling him into a more comfortable sleeping position. His skin was soft and supple, the flesh moulding in his grasp as his muscles relaxed. There was a fine layer of hair on his forearms and legs, not too dark or heavy. His pecs were free of hair, though it was unclear whether that was natural or his own choice. Reed's head was soon resting on a pillow, the thick duvet tucked over his body.

Nines continued to make himself useful by tidying his clothes. There were quite a few dirty items strewn across the floor, so he gathered them up and headed to the washing machine. It was too late to turn it on, but he got it ready and set a reminder. The next order of business was exploring the cupboards. He wasn't surprised to find them bare besides a few packets of instant noodles and pasta. There was a small twenty-four-hour supermarket a ten-minute drive away, so he took Reed's car and ventured out.

The store was almost empty at this hour, so he was undisturbed as he made his way around grabbing various food items. He bought a lot of fresh meat, herbs, spices, and vegetables, and gathered a few storage containers before heading back to the small apartment. With so many hours to fill, it was easy to busy himself with preparing various dishes. He cooked three separate meals and separated them into the storage containers in singular portions. Once they were cool, he would fit the lids and split them between the fridge and freezer.

He did a small amount of quiet cleaning, mostly dusting down objects and surfaces. Reed didn't keep many trinkets scattered around, but there were a few old pictures. Reed and his old partner, a very young Reed and a woman he assumed was his mother, and another of an even younger Reed with an elderly couple, likely his grandparents. There was also one of him and Tina at some form of party, likely an office event. He had a cat ornament that looked a lot like his android feline hidden between the photos to stop the cat from playing with it.

Once he was done and the kitchen was clean, he looked around and considered what else he could do. He was about to mop the kitchen floor when his audio processors picked up small sounds of distress coming from the bedroom. Entering the room, he sat on the edge of the double bed as Reed hummed and squirmed restlessly in his sleep. Reed's brow furrowed, lips parting in a whimper as Nines gripped his arms and shook him out of it. Green eyes snapped wide with a scared yelp, body jerking in shock as he sat up, breathing heavily. He looked around and then at Nines, running a hand over his tired face.

"What the phck are you doing here?" he grumbled with some genuine confusion as he caught his breath. He remembered leaving the office, vaguely. It didn't take much longer to recall that Nines had driven him home. I didn't expect him to stay though...He shuffled up to lean against the cold metal rails of the headboard, shoving a pillow behind his back to ease the discomfort. "What have you been doing?" he added as he noticed the smell of cooking.

"You fell asleep, so I decided to make myself useful in the meantime," Nines replied simply, watching Reed's eyes rove over his bedroom with a frown. He knew for a fact he'd left clothes all over the floor. He hadn't really been there much over the past few weeks, and when he had been home, he'd just stripped off and fallen on the bed. The long hours hadn't given him a chance to do a proper wash. When his shift ended late, he couldn't do it because the noise would disturb his neighbours. "You should rest a little longer."

"I'm good." He frowned, glaring as a firm hand on his chest pushed him back when he tried to get up. The hand remained immovable. It was also surprisingly warm, almost like a real human hand. The fingers slid down his naked pecs slowly until they reached the duvet and tugged it up to cover his body, effectively tucking him in. Reed sighed. As if that was going to make him go to sleep again. After what he'd just seen, he didn't think he'd close his eyes again for a year!

He'd dreamed about the first case again, back when they hadn't realised it was going to be serial. He remembered everything vividly. The young man strung up in the bell tower, barely swaying back and forth. It wasn't a businessman this time, but the victims had never really mattered to the Hickory Killer. Most of them had been chosen at random. Jack was special. The most personal. A special gift, just for him. He shuddered.

In his dream, everything had gone exactly as it had that day, only right as he stepped outside, he saw him. A dark figure. He hadn't seen his face, but he'd chased him into an alley. Suddenly, it had been a mess of hands and fists and lips and teeth and he felt sick just thinking about it. He could still feel the teeth on his lobe and hot breath sighing tick-tock, Detective in his ear. He'd never experienced that before. His dreams had never spiralled into sexual territory. Not with the fucking killer, anyway. Not until Perkins brought him up like that and made me-He pinched his eye shut and rested an arm over his face as he slipped back down. He really didn't want to see Dr Marr that day.

Following Nines' advice, he stayed in bed. He wasn't sure for how long, but at some point Nines left his side and turned on the washing machine. The next thing he knew, the howl of the vacuum had started. He supposed it was alright for him to get up at that stage, so he showered and dressed within twenty minutes. Although his main focus was on getting to the precinct, it seemed Nines had other ideas. He insisted that he eat something before they left and ended up making him scrambled eggs on toast. Reed wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that those eggs rivalled his grandmother's. They were light and fluffy, not gooey at all.

At the precinct, he kept his jacket on as a comforting shroud and Nines made him a coffee before his session, saving the cigarette for afterwards. He stepped into Dr Marr's office, mug held tightly in his hand and jacket drawn snug around his neck. She noticed his defensive mood straight away. Of course she did. He could barely look at her as he sat down and sipped his coffee. It was strong and hot, just the way Nines always made it. He waited for Marr to start this time. He couldn't bring it up himself. Not a chance. His throat seized at the very thought.

"I hear you met with Agent Perkins yesterday...Why don't you tell me about that?" She waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts. He knew this was coming, though it wasn't the hardest part. That would come later when they talked about his feelings. Marr looked down at her notebook and flipped through the pages, reading old notes of his progress. He was pretty sure that progress was about to go out the window within the next hour.

"He-uh...he's leading the Hickory Killer case now. They think he's back, they think he-" Gavin's brain stalled, drowning in possibilities. They think he moved on? That he came back and swept him under the rug? He squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't want to voice those thoughts. They made him feel dirty. Unnatural. If the Hickory Killer had come back, then he should be relieved that someone else was handling it. He should be happy that he was off the hook. It made him sick that he didn't feel that way, that he felt jilted. Slighted.

"They found a new victim. A copy of his first murder, correct?" Marr prompted, watching Gavin nod his agreement. That was bugging him, too. It was a copy of the first murder, not an evolution or a new work. It was a replica. He hated to say it, but it was almost boring. That was a pretty sick thing to say about a murder. Someone had just been killed. It should never be described as boring, and yet it was. It was almost soulless. "You don't think it's him," Marr observed, watching Gavin turn over various thoughts with a somewhat pensive expression.

"No...It just feels wrong. It's not like the others, and it doesn't make sense! Why come back now? And why start over again with exactly the same pattern? It just doesn't make sense!" he repeated as he got up to pace. He often did that when agitated. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. He just knew it was a copycat. It had to be. But am I just thinking that because that's what I want it to be? I want it to stay over. I want him to stay gone. I don't want him to fuck with anyone else. I don't want him to come back for me...

"Is that really how you feel? Or are you having trouble admitting that he might really be back?" He knew she had to ask. He'd been expecting her to ask. His lips felt dry, tongue darting out to wet them. It felt more like a confessional than a therapy session. He wasn't sure if she already knew how he felt or if he'd actually have to walk her through it. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, scratching the back of his neck with a sigh.

"It might be a bit of both..." She seemed pleased by the admission. "I mean...I know it doesn't feel right. I'm relatively certain it's a copycat, but at the same time...If he came back, I don't think he'd repeat himself...And he wouldn't just ignore me. There would have been a message or something there. There was always something there, from case four onwards." He did his best to hold back, knowing he was starting to sound a little aggressive. Dr Marr regarded him calmly, dark eyes piercing. It was almost like she knew. He looked away quickly, shrugging his jacket higher on his shoulders as he turned and looked out the window.

"You sound troubled. Is there something you'd like to tell me, Gavin?" she added softly, watching him visibly stiffen. There was definitely something he knew he should say. Green eyes closed in dread. He didn't want to say it out loud. How could he put a name to it? He didn't even want to think about it! "You know...some victims form a strange bond with their aggressors. If you have certain feelings, you shouldn't be ashamed to explore and understand them." Gavin looked over his shoulder with dread in his eyes and she motioned to the sofa in encouragement. This was his safe space. He could say anything here and she wouldn't judge him for it.

"I...I do have some feelings..." That was a good start. She encouraged him to get comfortable, waiting patiently as he kicked off his shoes and hunched in a ball, resting his chin behind his knees. "Can I...can I tell you about a dream?" he asked finally, thinking it might be easier to describe that and let her work out his feelings from there. She nodded and let him explain. He told her about it. About exploring the first scene and tangling in a haze of passion and lust with the unknown man. He hadn't ever seen his face, but he knew it was him. He'd had the same voice. It had teased him. Mocked him. Claimed him. He dropped his head, worried about finding judgement in Dr Marr's eyes as he finished with waking up to Nines' hands on his shoulders.

"Dreams like that can happen occasionally, and you can't control what happens when you're asleep...In a way, your feelings are expected. The Hickory Killer was part of your life for quite a while." That was true. The case had dragged on for months, maybe even over a year, and even after that, he was still haunted by it. He'd half expected another gift, letter, or body for weeks after Jack's death. "He was quite intimate with you...He sent you gifts, called you by name, wrote you letters...In many ways, he was courting you." Gavin's whole body shuddered at the suggestion. He didn't want to hear that! It was sick. It was disgusting.

"I never asked for that! I never encouraged it!"

"Of course not. He pushed his obsession on you...He even targeted your partner, seeing him as the chief competition for your attention and affection." Gavin's jaw tightened at that. She already knew that he'd been in love with Jack, pathetic as it was. He'd always tried to keep that separate from work though. Jack had been his best friend and partner, and he'd been fine with that. He'd never expected or encouraged anything more. Jack was straight. He'd always known that. I thought I kept it hidden well enough, so how the phck did he figure it out? It wasn't like they'd hung all over each other, and he hadn't mooned over him all the time, either. "After all this attention, it's natural that you'd notice when it disappeared. It's alright to feel confused by that loss." Gavin felt a little better after that. They spoke more about his feelings and worries. Working through them. Patching him up piece by piece. He was exhausted, but at least a little better, by the time he came out of the session and took his hard earned cigarette from Nines.