Reed's breaths came in gasps as he flipped Miller over his shoulder. He was surprised he still had it in him as the younger man's back hit the mat with a loud thud that echoed in the large hall. He bent over apologetically as he pulled Miller to his feet. Miller bent over, holding his ribs with a wince as sweat glistened on his dark skin. This was why people didn't spar with Gavin Reed, and when they did, they soon remembered why they'd stopped. Miller was experiencing that regret right now. Reed just didn't know how to limit his strength.

"You really don't hold back, do you?" he groaned as he straightened up and accepted Reed's fist bump. He could hold out a little longer. Reed gave him a smirk that answered his question immediately. It was a cocky look that let him know that he had been holding back. Miller swallowed nervously as he crouched and circled again. They both looked for weaknesses, eyes darting this way and that to mislead one another. The unexpected sound of a flipping coin acted like a trigger that launched them together in a tangle of grasping hands and flailing limbs. It wasn't exactly graceful, and it didn't follow any rules, but it was top tier street fighting.

These were old skills. Skills Reed had picked up in his youth while running the streets. You had to know more than knives and guns if you wanted to survive in a gang. You needed to know even more if you wanted to be a beat cop. Miller grunted as Reed's fist sank into his solar plexus, doubling him over and allowing him to bring his elbow down between his shoulder blades. He dropped like a rock, feebly tapping the mat in a weak show of surrender and staying down for a while as he caught his breath.

"Now I remember why I stopped doing this." Miller rolled onto his back with a small wheeze, watching Reed's lips quirk as he bent over to catch his breath. It was a fair point. Miller was one of the softer ones, willing to give him multiple chances no matter what shit he pulled. So long as he was never cruel or malicious towards people, he was pretty much okay with it. He'd pouted for a few days over the whole almost shooting Hank's android thing, but he got over it. Hating androids was pretty common these days. It was something many officers still shared.

"Think you can walk?" Reed teased as he helped him to his feet. Miller nodded as he held his tender ribs. It was a good workout, but he was going to be sore for a few days at least. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd entered the gym. He'd just been looking to heft a few weights, maybe spar with the punching bags for a bit. Unfortunately, Reed had come in wound up and spoiling for a fight.

"Detective Reed," Connor piped up politely. Reed rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, levelling a displeased look at the unassuming android. He hated that. They'd made him so plain. So feeble looking. So unassuming. He was like a flytrap. Built to lure people in with that sweet voice and those puppy dog eyes, and right when you least expected it...Wham! He packed more of a punch than the whole damned SWAT team!

"What do you want, plastic?" Reed asked gruffly, not bothering to hide his disdain as he headed over to the small bench and grabbed his towel. He wiped off his damp face and shoulders before uncapping his water bottle and chugging a few gulps. Miller eased himself down on the bench, still holding his sore ribs as he drank his own water and looked between the pair.

"Captain Fowler sent me to remind you about your session with Dr Marr. It is due to start within the next half hour." Reed hushed him sharply, eyes darting around the mostly empty gym. The last thing he needed was for his co-workers to catch on to the fact he was seeing a shrink! He scowled at Connor resentfully, watching him tilt his clueless head. Phcking androids!

"Are you a detective or a secretary?" he quipped with a scoff, taking a seat beside Miller, who decided he was just going to ignore whatever happened in the next few minutes, provided no one was seriously hurt. That was the good thing about Miller. He wouldn't judge and he wouldn't gossip. Connor didn't rise to the jibe, though the yellow LED and slight furrow of his brow told him he was thinking about it. "What are you going to do, Tin Can? Carry me to my appointment?" Reed sighed as he cracked his shoulders. Connor didn't think the loud crunch was a healthy sign.

"If you'd like me to," he replied with an almost quizzical tilt of his head. Reed huffed as Miller chuckled. The android had him there. Sarcasm was something he was clearly still learning. Connor didn't understand, but he did know that the humans were likely laughing at him. His LED span yellow before changing back to its usual blue. "Captain Fowler did ask me to remind you that these sessions are mandatory, and that you may be relieved of active duty if you-" Connor cut off as Reed waved a dismissive hand.

"Yeah-yeah-yeah, I got it...One more round?" he asked hopefully as he turned to Miller, who raised an incredulous eyebrow. Not only had they been going at it for the past hour, but he was bruised and aching all over!

"Not a chance! You kicked my ass," Miller huffed tiredly, watching Reed sigh in disappointment.

"Yeah, you and every other guy in this place. I just need a good fight, you know?" Miller could understand that. Most cops got antsy at some time or other, especially during tough cases. It wasn't unusual for officers to come in here to blow off some steam and hone their skills. Even SWAT turned up when they were in town. Miller himself had been feeling it lately, which was why he'd come in to have a punch around.

"Not everyone..." Miller said meaningfully as he nodded at Connor, watching Reed's emerald eyes calculate the worth. It was true. Connor had thoroughly kicked his ass. He was clearly programmed with some fighting skills. Skills that may be worth picking up. If he could learn to give Connor a beat-down, then it would probably help in taking out other android suspects. Reed took another long look at Connor, who regarded him with his usual placid expression.

"How about it, Tin Can? If you win, I'll even try to be on time for that session," Reed compromised, watching Connor's hazel eyes fix on him steadily. He was being scanned. He knew that much. It was hard not to wonder what Connor saw. Did he know how much energy he had left to burn? Was he weighing up how much more of a beating his body could take? Was he working out his own chances of victory? Probably not that last one. He was already well aware that he could win. Phck, after last time, I'm pretty sure he could snap me in half...

"I suppose I can spare you ten minutes," Connor relented in a nonchalant tone. Miller chuckled at Connor's somewhat innocent attitude. He'd maintained that rigid politeness even though his words sounded more like fighting words. Reed smirked, too. Surprising attitude there, prick. He got to his feet and dropped his towel on the bench while Miller pulled up one leg and leaned on his knee, leisurely sipping his water as he watched. This was going to be good. He was pretty sure Reed would go down within the first ten seconds.

"You ready? I mean...dressed like that?" Reed asked as he looked Connor up and down. He was still in his old Cyberlife uniform. He had no idea why. It wasn't like the company still owned androids, and they no longer had to wear them. The grey jacket sat perfectly on his shoulders and wrists. His tie was neatly tied and his shirt was tucked into his grey jeans. The look was finished with standard black shoes. To a human, it would be uncomfortable and restrictive to fight in.

"This attire was made with durability and flexibility in mind, Detective. It will not be easily damaged," Connor assured as he reached up to adjust his tie. He did that a lot. Probably one of those pre-programmed human quirks that some androids had. It was like the way he fiddled with coins or had a few dozen different idling poses. Coming from anyone else, he would have thought it cocky, but from Connor, he knew it was simple honesty.

"Alright then..." Reed got up on his toes and started circling him while Connor simply remained where he was, hazel eyes following idly. Reed pounced without warning, feinting to the right before coming in with a left hook to the sternum. Apparently, Connor remembered that move. He stepped back, knocking his hand aside before spinning into a kick. Reed stumbled forward, wincing at the impact of Connor's heel on his side. "Not bad, Tin Can..." he praised stiffly as he circled more carefully.

Miller watched, quietly impressed as Reed flung himself right at the lithe android. It seemed he'd gone for a surprise attack, and to an extent, he was successful. He could tell Connor was surprised by the bold move, though, on reflection, he probably shouldn't have been. It took mere seconds for him to get over his surprise, catching Reed bodily against his chest and turning him into a toss that looked a lot like a suplex. The wind was clearly knocked out of him as his shoulders hit the mat, but he did manage to keep his head up.

Both men were on their feet again in an instant. Reed's firm kick caught Connor's knee and knocked him down a little. Connor sprang like a cat and pounced, almost flinging him clean off the edge of the mats. Reed rolled to his feet, exchanging a few quick punches and a block with Connor until he was finally twisted into a painful hold, with his arm twisted up behind his back. He couldn't help grunting in discomfort as he was bent over, with Connor pressing right behind him in an almost compromising position.

"Ten minutes have passed, Detective. Do you yield?" Connor asked almost playfully as he rested his hips against Reed's ass. Reed reached back with his free hand and tapped Connor's thigh three times in agreement, too breathless to respond with words. "You have seventeen minutes to shower and dress before your session." Connor watched him stumble forwards a little before catching his balance. If Miller didn't know better, he'd say that Connor was smug as he eyed Reed's bent over form. His neat uniform was barely out of place. A tug of his tie, a pull at his collar, and he was immaculate once more.

"I got it...Hey, Tin Can!" Reed called at Connor's retreating back. Connor turned with innocent hazel eyes, a curious expression on his face. "I could do with learning a few of those techniques...You up for round two sometime?" Reed was still getting his breath back as he cracked his water bottle and drained what was left with a hopeful expression. Miller raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like him to get cosy with an android.

"I would be happy to assist you, Detective," Connor agreed with a curt nod before leaving.

"Thought you hated androids," Miller said as he joined Reed in heading for the showers. They paused by their lockers to grab their shower bags and towels before walking into the stalls. Reed was already stripping off his shirt as he went. It wasn't like there were any girls in there.

"I do, but where sparring's concerned, I'll take what I can get," he replied with a shrug. He pulled the curtain around his showerhead and started the water, stepping back as he waited for it to heat. Miller said no more about it as they both showered and returned to work. Reed could already feel the agitation in his chest like a knot as he locked his locker and shrugged on his leather jacket. After that, he grabbed a coffee for fortitude and headed to Dr Marr's office. He knocked on the door and waited for her to call him in with a relaxed tone that he couldn't stand.

"Detective Reed. Take a seat, please," she said invitingly as she motioned to the long sofa. Reed walked over stiffly and sat, nursing the hot mug in his hands until it burned. He looked at the black liquid, unwilling to raise his eyes to the middle-aged woman's face. She'd been at this a long time and could recognise a few things about him from the get-go. The biggest thing she could sense was his shame. It was all too common with police officers. Men in particular. They hated seeming weak or thinking something was wrong with their heads. "I'm Dr Marr, but you can call me Diana if you like," she offered in the same gentle voice. Reed hated it. It was like he was some skittish alley cat and she was trying to coax him out.

"Sure, Doc...You can call me Gavin." His restless eyes shifted to look around the modest room. It was small, but designed to feel quite roomy despite that. Everything was white or brown. Nothing too overstimulating or distracting. There was light coming in through the window, warming the small space. It felt enclosed and intimate. A safe space within the hustle of the precinct. It even had a special door to stop the noise outside from overpowering the space. It helped that it was also a floor up from the bustling bullpen.

"Alright, Gavin...Where shall we start?" Marr asked as she looked over her rectangular frames at him with dark, searching eyes. His hand was shaking as he sipped his coffee. Not a bright idea considering his caffeine problem, but it seemed to bring him comfort. He looked at the dark-skinned woman almost timidly. She looked kind. Homely. The matronly type. She had gentle chocolate eyes, but he knew they could be piercing. They could pick him apart piece by piece. Screw him up. Move things around. He dropped his gaze.

"Look, I know I pushed myself...I worked too much, and I fainted, but I'm fine. Really!" She wasn't sure which of them he was trying to convince. He couldn't meet her gaze because he was fully aware that he was lying. She gave him a sympathetic look. It was never easy to be confronted with your own flaws. The first sessions were always hard, especially for people like him. She lowered her pad to her knee and crossed her plump legs.

"That's not all it is, Gavin...I've seen your file, and I've spoken to your fellow officers...Many of them are worried about you." She was as open with him as possible. The sooner he got used to the idea that these sessions were a long-term commitment, the better. He scoffed at the idea as he put his cup on the small table between them and crossed his legs. He was making himself smaller. Folding his arms. Creating a barrier to protect himself.

"Worried my ass! There's maybe two people in this whole place that give a damn, and I don't need them to. I come in, I work my ass off, and I go home. That's it!" he objected in a firm tone, shifting his eyes to the window. He could see a few high-rises across the street. Offices like theirs. People working away at their normal lives. He blinked as a grey bird zipped by the window. Probably a pigeon. There were a lot of those. Fat fuckers that sat out in the streets waiting for a handout. He was surprised some of them could even take off.

"Many people respect you. You're a fine officer...I'm curious, Gavin. You drink a lot of coffee, spend as much time working as you can, and you sleep as little as possible...Why is that?" She already knew the answer, of course. According to his records, he'd been exemplary until just over two years ago. Two years ago, when Jack Dawson had died on the job. She watched his jaw tighten, dirty green eyes glancing at her like a scared animal.

"I've got work to do, that's all." Marr looked at him sternly over the top of her glasses. "I'm not the only one that does this shit! We're all workaholics here. It's part of the job," he added as he met her steady gaze. She nodded her agreement. Of course, it was a common trend with police officers. Other high-stress jobs, too. These careers were almost designed for ambitious workaholics to fall into, encouraging them to climb the ladder.

"I'm not interested in others, Gavin...Why don't you sleep?"

"Look, we see a lot of shit on the job...Overdoses, abused kids, domestic violence, shooting victims. Hell, in homicide we get some of the most fucked up cases you can imagine...Why wouldn't it keep me up at night?" Again, Dr Marr agreed. She knew from working within the precinct for so long that they saw many things. Horrible things. Some of her past patients had even been victims of those things.

"That's true, but I noticed something...Your condition only started to significantly deteriorate around two years ago." She knew she was pushing hard. Gavin stood at her words, but he didn't leave. He crossed to the window, pacing with his hands on his hips. He was trapped. A caged animal. He knew he couldn't leave without being placed on leave, effectively losing his job until he cooperated and sought help. The problem was, he desperately didn't want to talk about it. "You knew Jack Dawson for a long time...Tell me about him." She watched the smallest of smiles appear before he squashed it.

"Jack was...he was my best friend." Gavin ran a hand through his thick hair, unsure what else to say. How did you put a man so big and so warm into simple words? Nothing seemed enough. The thought of it opened up a chasm in his chest. A space no one could ever fill. "We were about the same age...We were at the academy together and started here around the same time. He-uh...he was someone who didn't judge me for certain...preferences." He wasn't sure how much Marr knew about his personal life. He didn't exactly include his sexuality in his personnel file, though he knew it was in his medical records from all the times he'd been tested.

"I understand...Go on. What was it like when you first met? I've seen his picture...He was very handsome," she added gently, watching Gavin's expression warm a little as he returned to the sofa. He was clearly thinking about those good times in their early years. It was a look she'd seen many times.

"He was. Had a whole fan club at one point, but he only ever had eyes for Sandy...She was his wife. They met in college before the academy. He always insisted on stopping at this little roadside flower vendor each night to buy a single flower on the way home. She made him these cutesy homemade lunches with animal ham and crimped carrots...He was a real health nerd. He hated it when I smoked, and it pissed him off that I could always beat him in a fight." Dr Marr nodded along quietly. This was good. He had a lot of fond memories of Jack Dawson, and he still cherished them dearly. Some people would try to lessen their grief by picking out faults or putting them in a box and trying to forget, but not Gavin. Gavin had kept his partner close to his heart in a special place. A warm place.

"He sounds wonderful."

"He always had my back, and I...I should have had his..." Gavin trailed off, jaw tightening again. She was aware of the incident and the details of the case. He clearly felt guilty and blamed himself for what had happened. It was perfectly natural, considering the circumstances. That was something they were going to have to change.

"You're not responsible for what happened." Gavin fired himself up to argue. How could she say that? He was the one who'd kicked the door open! The one who hadn't figured out the last verse and arrived too early! He'd done the killer's job for him, just as he'd planned! He'd had to go to his best friend's funeral and look his wife and daughter in the eye knowing what he'd done! Knowing they probably knew! "Gavin...The Hickory Killer was the one who set that trap. He planned for you to feel this way."

"It doesn't change the fact that I'm the one who did it! And I couldn't even track the bastard down afterwards! Over two years, and he's disappeared off the face of the phcking Earth, just like he said he would! Phck!" Gavin threw himself back in his seat as the hurt and anger coiled in his chest like a raging fire. There hadn't even been a whisper. No local cases had even come close to matching his MO. He'd told him that the twelfth victim would be his last before retirement, and that it would be something special. It should have been me in that damned chair! Jack had so much more to live for. A wife. A daughter. Fuck, he'd had everything, right down to the white picket fence! What did Gavin have? A cheap apartment and a robot cat. He hadn't even had the cat back then. Pipsqueak was a later addition. A present from Tina because she thought he'd go crazy on his own.

"Not all murderers are brought to justice, Gavin. I'm here to help you move past that," Marr said as she levelled her steady gaze at him. Gavin just scoffed, heat still burning his chest. He didn't need to get past it. What he needed was to find that bastard and take him down. All this time, the killer had been quietly mocking him with his silence, leaving him constantly plagued by the feeling of never being good enough. Not good enough to figure out a simple clue. Not good enough to save his partner. "Let's go over what happened that day." Gavin sighed and fell sideways on the sofa, knowing he couldn't get out of it.