#phckinglife

   He warned Gavin, he told him that if he died he would Elijah would snap. And he did. His dream came true, he got desperate, he created that thing and now that thing kept--showing up. It had Gavin's key, his apartment, his pets, his everything and Elijah--it confused him. It hurt him. It was driving him insane because while he knew it wasn't his brother it carried his face, his likeness, his voice, as many of his memories as Elijah could program into it. By a scientific standpoint it was a technology breakthrough, the best goddamn thing Elijah ever made. Barely anyone could tell the difference between real Gavin and Android Gavin. So many people were coming to him or sending mail asking for one. 

   He hated it. He hated it. He hated it. 

    Elijah felt like he was slowly breaking, losing his sanity. He ate far less than he normally did, stayed down in the lab because so far it couldn’t get in there. He hadn’t taken his pills in nearly six months the prescriptions up there were expired and bad. He dank water only when it became to dangerous for him not to. He had his coffee maker and coffee down in the lab. The amount of times he snapped and had a beak down were so many that at some point Elijah just stopped working and curled up in a corner with his books and blankets and stopped existing in the world. It was just to much. 

   Gavin didn’t wear the vest he made and because of that he got shot in the artery and he died. Elijah had warned him. He fucking warned him and now look where it all was? He was dead and Elijah was alone with that thing. He never thought he’d grow to resent CyberLife and his invention but now--he did. He became bitter toward them, toward himself, toward his own desperation and the fact that thing was now out exiting as Gavin Reed. If only the world had taken him before it had taken his brother from him. 

   It was supposed to. That was the entire reason he had told Gavin that when he died Gavin would get CyberLife and everything he owned. But it didn’t happen. And he was so angry at Gavin for that, for dying, but the horrible feeling of loneliness and despair was more than the anger. He had no one left. No one to care and love him. He lost his brother, his protector, his family, his entire reason for pushing on. 

For the first time since the revolution, Connor was hunting relentlessly.

Gavin was somewhere in the building, incapacitated. Possibly unconscious, but Connor had no way of knowing for sure. They’d been AMBUSHED while tracking down a drug cartel; the address they found was a red herring, and like fools they fell for it. Gavin had been kidnapped, and the criminals sent Connor a motive. Once again, he had to decide what was more important. 

The mission? Or his partner?

[ TIME UNTIL DETONATION: 10:09 ]

Ten minutes. Ten minutes to find the evidence--if there was any evidence. Ten minutes to find Gavin and escape before the bomb went off. He rounded a corner and vaulted over a fallen desk, calling out Gavin’s name as loud as he could, his vocal modulator straining. 

        RK900 looked to Detective Reed, RAISING a brow. “I do not feel ‘hurt’, Detective. The experience is inconveniencing but not painful.” When he’d preconstructed the altercation, this had been the most FAVORABLE outcome. It involved apprehending the suspect but not killing him, and no harm coming to Detective Reed. The only unfortunate thing was that the bullet had hit the circuitry of his appendage, rendering it momentarily useless. 

       He’s considered detaching it to RELIEVE himself of the dead weight, but figured that Detective Reed might not take the show lightly. 

       They were waiting for backup to come haul the suspect off, so that RK900 could seek out repairs. His jacket stained with Thirium. The errors repeatedly appeared on his HUD, warning of Thirium loss and damage to his biocomponents. He ignored them as they appeared. Nines glanced to his coworker. His LED flashed YELLOW momentarily. 

“Good morning, Detective,” Rex chirps as she pops up from behind a tower of Jenga that she has built on the break-room table. 

According to her internal time, which she has tuned to the precinct clock in lieu of any wireless connection, Rex has been playing Jenga for three hours, and she’s on her tenth game. The record to beat is twenty stories, without using her reconstruction software. She likes to keep busy and learn new things, in the hope that one day she’ll learn enough to catch up with other androids. But this will be her last game before everyone arrives.