#I have a lot of feelings about Gavin dipshit Reed and I'm making that everyone else's problem

[wardenmages]

Okay so after that "didn't die when they should have died" post earlier I just rambled for several paragraphs into a semi-coherent fic about Gavin's PTSD in Detroit Reawakening and Detroit Evolution, with some mention of Detroit Absolution/D3. This is a fair amount of headcanon as well as my interpretation of certain scenes.

So here is some musing on Gavin's presentation of PTSD and how healing isn't linear and doesn't end but sometimes the people we love make it a little bit easier to live with it, and that sometimes healing means leaving situations we didn't realize were hurting us because it was better than where we started.

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Gavin startles easily and violently. One time a rookie who didn't know any better tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around and decked them in the middle of the bullpen before his brain kicked in to follow his fist. He wears a heavy jacket because it muffles the world around him into a dull ache rather than a constant prickling on his skin down to his bones.

It's easy to tell when he's pulled an all-nighter from the pile of disposable coffee cups on his desk - he didn't have time to clean out a mug every time he went back for more. He's even less patient and understanding than usual. On particularly bad days, people watch him roll his shoulders and touch the back of his head to chase away bruises that healed on the surface years ago.

He's made a name for himself handling drug cases, but he can see Fowler wishes he'd take anything else. It makes him bristle and dive even further into his cases, because fuck Fowler if he doesn't trust Gavin, Gavin earned this. As the faces become less and less familiar, Fowler stops giving him that look whenever he goes in for supervision, and Gavin doesn't know if that means he finally proved himself or if Fowler was just waiting for Gavin to run out of options to run.

He keeps just about everyone at arm's length, except Chen and Miller. He's known Tina for years, since he was still an intern and she was working three jobs to pay for college. It's easy to like Chris, who is one of the most genuine guys Gavin's ever met. He jokes to himself that he doesn't know why Chris became a cop of all things, but he doesn't know why he's a cop either, so he lets it sit. Neither of them complain when he smokes, they don't push beers or shots into his hands at the bar, and push back when he's being a shit. For about a week he has a crush on Chris and his big cheesy smile that lights up the room and holy fucking shit he's got it bad, but he pushes it back because he only has two friends at thirty years old and he knows he's not exactly fun to be around.

Sometimes kids come through the station in his cases and it fucks him up for days. He stares at their records, a mess of foster homes, charges written in and then crossed off if they didn't stick, and notes from the overloaded caseworkers who can't even spell the kids' names. He thinks about his apartment and how it feels so big but so small at the same time, there's a spare bedroom he just uses for storage that he could clean out, he has enough savings to get furniture and shit. He keeps a tab open with the sign-up to get certified to foster. He thinks about making the system better from the inside.

He knows that's not how it works, not in the real world. The kids move on to the next house or their parents, and Gavin closes the tab and tries not to look at his badge. The next time he sees their names he pretends he never thought about them and that arresting them actually means something.

He doesn't sleep much, maybe three to four hours a night. It's impossible to fall asleep when you know it's not going to last long before your own brain betrays you. He wakes up from another nightmare, body stiff and covered in sweat, and just curls in on himself until he can force his body back into submission. It's a battle of wills more than something he needs to stay alive.

Nines helps. God, Nines makes everything feel lighter, and he stops sinking from the weight around his neck. It's still heavy and he can't help but bite whatever hand is held out to him, but it's more than bearable, he's alive.

His second near-death experience, lying on the floor of the precinct clinging onto consciousness through the numbing mess of pain and nerves at their breaking point, he nearly fades out just to make it finally stop. He wakes up in the hospital hours later terrified at how easy it was to just slip away.

He won't let it happen again. He's nearly died twice - really, truly close to death, not just in danger - and it didn't take. He's too stubborn to go out, not when he finally gives a shit about his own life and the people around him do more than just tolerate him and his friends are all moving forward and... he wants to move forward too.

So he quits his job alongside his partner. He doesn't push down how he feels about it, how as grateful as he'll always be he feels used by the system that kicked him down in the first place. He works with the kids at the shelter and talks them off the ledge. He doesn't foster, he's still adjusting to living with Nines and both of them love their privacy too much, but sometimes the kids stay the night with permission if they're struggling at the shelter. A few stop by their apartment first before even approaching the shelter.

He doesn't always know what to do or say, how to help, but he tries. He tries, and he tells them he better not read their name in the news unless it's for some kind of award. Newspaper clippings aren't a thing anymore, but he prints them out whenever he sees them, kids taking time to hang out at one of the senior centers or work in one of the urban gardens or a mentoring program with some androids, anything good. He tacks them up on the wall of his small, shitty office that never gets warm enough or cold enough but Nines brought in a couple of his plants and there's some art on the walls from Tayla and a bunch of framed photos around the place so it feels more like home.

He wakes up from a nightmare, body stiff and covered in sweat, to Nines pressed against his back holding his hand and massaging gentle circles into the tender skin where his prosthetic meets his hand. He clenches his jaw and tries to focus on the way Nines' fingers feel, the gentle glow from the edge of his skin overlay, his simulated heartbeat and breathing that Gavin knows he's amping up so Gavin can feel it.

After a few minutes, he closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep to the sound of the cat scratching at the door frame, and breathes.

[luvleekaotix-imagines]

this is my first time requesting, ever, and I just wanted to ask if it was okay to request a Connor x Human! reader? the reader working alongside with Hank and Connor, and reed is always messing with them and Connor decided to take matters into his own hands? I would have written it myself, but I'm not very good at writing for Connor quite yet.

Anonymous said to luvleekaotix-imagines:

[screams] I LOVE U FOR WRITING CONNNOR AAaaAA. Can I request connor x reader where reader is human and is depressed, so he’s trying to understand it and doing his best to help her? TYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

A/N: a little more sassy!reader. some things you can’t pass off with sass tho.

✤✤✤✤✤✤

It was meant to be a regular day at work. You were actually feeling pretty good. The local bakery you passed were selling sweet buns with ube filling and it had been awhile since you had the treat so you bought a few. You wandered into the office with a half-eaten bun in hand and a little spring in your step.

“What the fuck is that?” Ugh. Gavin was waiting by the breakroom with a coffee in his hand which you hoped was shitty. “Why the are you always eating weird ass food?”

You hoped he was still pissed off about the little food ordering incident. “It’s a bun with ube filling.” You took a pointed bite. “It’s delicious. Not everyone is an uncultured swine like you and eats only boring white boy shit.” You were never in the mood to deal with Gavin Reed and his awful attitude. Like always you sneered at him without stopping on your way to your desk, but this time he did something unexpected. Gavin stepped in your way and you stopped, narrowing your eyes. “Move.”

“Nah.” He advanced with a threatening aura, but you held your ground. He wouldn’t physically do anything to you while people were in the office. You could already see some onlookers peering curiously. “I’ve had enough of your attitude. You need to shut the fuck up.”

You laughed, you couldn’t help it. “My attitude? My attitude, Reed? I’m only like this to you because I treat people the way they treat others and guess what, genius? You treat everyone around you like fucking shit.” You spat your words with as much venom as you could muster. There was no point in playing nice. Everyone knew you were over Gavin’s bullshit and you had been for a long time.

You had expected Gavin to give you that frustrated glare before storming off, but he simply smirked and you hated how it threw you off. “See that right there?” He pointed a finger in your face and you wanted to tear it off his hand. “That’s the reason you’re stuck where you are in your career.” Gavin laughed, “You’re never going to get a case of your own. You’re never gonna make primary and you’re always going to be fucking slave to the department because that attitude isn’t something we want here.”

It was like a slap in the face. You swallowed, your usual smart sass disintegrating beneath the possible bitter truth being thrown in your direction. You had hoped to one day have cases of your own instead of supporting others, but every single time there was an opportunity, you were denied the chance to take the lead. You hid the fact that you thought something was wrong with you really well—you hid it behind your smile and sarcasm and quietly buried your ambition.

“Just admit that you’re a shit wannabe detective. Make yourself useful for once and quit.” Gavin spoke lowly and you stared at him, for once not knowing what to do or say. You stood frozen, trying to grasp for something, but feeling it all slip. Still, you weren’t willing to give into this piece of shit human being. He didn’t deserve any kind of victory.

A hand gently touched your shoulder and you turned to see Connor standing beside you with his usual polite smile. How long had he been there? Oh god, what did he think of you after what Gavin said? Did he think you were useless too? “If I might interject—”

“This doesn’t concern you, dipshit, fuck off.” Reed snarled immediately.

You could see the LED indicator at Connor’s temple change from blue, to yellow and flash red for a moment before changing back to blue. He turned to you and you thought maybe you saw something a little different in his dark gaze. “Of course.” Instead of leaving, the android turned to face you fully and ignored Gavin. “I thought you’d like to know that Detective Reed’s statements about you may be untrue. In fact, I have data that contradicts his accusations. Would you like to hear them?”

What was going on? You were slightly confused but nodded slowly. “Sure, go ahead, wonder boy.”

“I’ve analysed the data on previous cases that you’ve worked on and they have an overall higher success rate than all of Detective Reed’s work which he mostly tries to do alone.” Connor relayed smoothly and you were sure if you were drinking anything you’d have choked on it. A smile grew on your face and the android smiled in turn. “On top of that, most of the cases that Detective Reed has solved were reliant on information that was gained by your efforts.”

You turned to Gavin who looked positively murderous.

“There is much more statistical data I can tell you about,” Connor tilted his head slightly, “but in summary, there is absolutely no proof in the statement that you are a—‘wannabe detective’—or that your attitude is detrimental to the department’s overall cohesiveness. There is proof, however, of the opposite.”

The android finished, still completely ignoring Gavin which only aggravated the detective more. “You fuckin—” He made a move towards Connor and you shoved the android back, fully intending to take whatever he was about to throw at your companion.

“Reed. My office, now.” Fowler roared from the stairs just outside his office. He sent you a look. “Don’t you go anywhere, after I’m finished with Reed, you’re next.”

Shit. You gave a half-hearted salute in response and watched as Gavin stalked off in a huff, flipping you and Connor the bird—it was a lot better than a punch though. Relief flooded your body and you slumped your shoulders. “You good, buddy?” You turned to Connor. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Connor was silent as he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even really know why he had come to your defence. It wouldn’t have been very helpful for you to start a fight in the middle of the office, maybe it was that? Or maybe it was that he didn’t want you to get hurt and that he didn’t like the expression that you wore on your face when Gavin had said awful things to you. Something quietly became unstable in Connor’s processor. There were always lots of little instabilities whenever he came in contact with you.

“Ahhhhh, but I have to meet with Fowler later.” You whined, though with a smile on your face. “I find him such a cliche. Whaddya think, Connor?’

Connor thought he was happy to see you smiling again, but he kept it to himself for now.