#I'm mostly sick with a head cold and a sore throat so my energy is GONE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashes-writing-corner · 7 months

Text

Hey guys! I've been sick lately so I'm back with a short part for Ghosts that We Knew. Reader gets sick and attempts to make tea. Ghost encourages reader to do it right lol

No warnings, tried to make this one a little funnier, more light hearted.

Taglist: @stargatenovus

Ghosts that We Knew 7- tea...you're doing it wrong...

You loved your little girl. You lived for her, quite literally. She was your world, your reason to keep going. And when the poor girl was sick, you made it your whole life to make sure she got better.

Even at the cost of your own health.

Kids were kids, and someone was always gonna wind up going to school sick, spreading it to everyone. But sickness travels, and just as Ellie was getting much better after a bad cold, you were knocked on your ass. Coughing, sore throat, the whole thing, you got it. Thankfully it wasn't as life threatening as it was after you had your transplant. You were paranoid about illness and the like for a year after the surgery. Thankfully you had a strong immune system and took precautions as much as you could. Nowadays you were a lot less paranoid, with the possibility of organ rejection (mostly) eliminated.

Regardless, you felt like crap now. You had the whole package, and now couldn't safely work on orders, which royally sucked. Ghost was thankful those days were behind him, the one benefit to being dead. The one thing he didn't miss.

He watched as you entered the kitchen, blanket wrapped around your shoulders and in your most comfortable pajamas. He observed only a moment as you struggled to open a nearby cabinet to grab a mug and he knew exactly what you were about to do.

And you were about to do it wrong.

Again.

You grabbed out a box of fruity tea bags, clearing your throat a bit to try and ease the scratchy feeling in it. You grabbed out a peach bag and set it in the mug. Absent-minded, you filled the cup with water most of the way and, to Ghost's dismay, put it in the microwave.

Again.

No, no, no! He was NOT going to stand for this! He understood you were sick but there was no need to ruin tea like that. The microwave stopped suddenly and you looked around.

"Ghost…I swear to God if that's you" you tried to reset the microwave but a cold blast grabbed your hand, "Dude! Seriously?! Of all things, you're gonna have a stick up your ectoplasmic ass about this?!".

No response. Then you remembered that he had used a lot of energy to interact with you a short time ago. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

"Hold on, let me go grab my phone…" you peeled off into the bedroom to go get it so you two could properly communicate.

Ghost waited for you, keeping close to the accursed microwave. You were making your tea wrong and he needed to make you see the error of your ways. Sick or not, there was no excuse in his eyes.

"Alright…what's got you in a tizzy now?".

Tea. Wrong.

"What?"

Make.

"Seriously? There's no right or wrong way to make tea! Dude cmon my throat is killing me and the heat would help".

Kettle.

"Ghost…I'm not playing this game. Stop disabling my microwave and just let me do this-"

The lights began to flicker, electronics going a bit haywire. Frustrated, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Alright! I'll do it in the damn kettle…fucking Brits I swear…"

Soap.

Well that was random. It took you by surprise as you turned to your phone.

"Soap? Dude, it's clean, I promise. Or are you saying I need soap? Eh…not gonna lie a shower might actually do me some good. I'll think about that".

He still wondered about his old teammates. Did they still think of him? He hadn't seen Johnny in years, about three…maybe four at this point. He wondered how the sergeant had changed. Was he still the fun loving, carefree friend that he somewhat envied? Did he still have a heart for others? Ghost always thought that was a rare thing. He shook his head, no point in dwelling on the past or what could be. You and Ellie were his priority now. And it wasn't like anyone had made him one before everything went to hell…

"I am not about to put milk in this. It comes out clumpy if I do" your voice pulled him back like an alarm.

Cream.

"I can't add anything but sugar to this. It'll get clumpy and gross. Don't want that" you argued, "if it was a different tea then yeah definitely".

Kind?

"What kind am I making? Peach. Peach and raspberry are my favorites" you told him.

Lavender.

"Lavender tea? Are you kidding? That stuff tastes like soap…" you stuck your tongue out in disgust.

Smell.

"Eh…I guess the smell is okay. I like the smell of actual Lavender rather than the artificial crap they put out".

He couldn't argue that. In life he thought the smell of lavender was too strong. It was even worse now as a ghost, with his advanced smell and all.

You had gotten out a new cup and tea bag and waited with the blanket still wrapped around yourself as the kettle finally went off. You rolled your eyes.

"Another reason I hate doing that" you moved it to the other side of the stove, "hate loud high pitched noises".

Nonetheless, you put some sugar in the cup. Ghost counted at least five, a bit much in his opinion, but he wasn't about to judge. He had made your life difficult enough already.

"Did it your way. Are you happy now?" You asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Yes.

"Good, cause I'm never doing that again".

We'll see…

This totally means he intends to "train" you on making your tea right. This was based on a conversation I had with my sister the other day and she thought it was hysterical. Anyway, being sick sucks and I hope yall are okay.

If you like my stuff please consider following, liking, commenting, and most importantly reblogging. Thanks friends and followers ^.^

-Ash

#fanfiction #ghosts that we knew #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost!ghost #paranormal friendship #eventual paranormal romance #ghost cod x reader #cod fanfic

36 notes · View notes

connorssock · 5 years

Note

Hi, I'm that Comment person from ao3, and want to say hi, and ty again for your amazing writing, I always enjoy reading it :D I also have an idea for a prompt, but don't feel obligated to fill it if it's not something you'd have fun writing (*´罒`*) It's kinda long, so will send a 2nd message :0 2/2

Gavin is v depressed, and due to the amount of work he’s had recently, he’s been unable to, or forgot to pick up refills for his medicine, so one day he doesn’t come to work. Connor, Hank, and Nines notice, but don’t start to worry for a few days. Eventually Fowler asks them to go check up on Gavin, and they find him unable to even get out of bed or find the energy to pick up his phone to call anyone for help. They then stay w/ him until he’s ok, and maybe become closer? >

I am so sorry this took so long to fill, Comment! Partially it was because I needed a break between this and the chapter of Android Update 5.12 which was very very similar. And partially because it…sort of ran away a little. I hope it is what you were after though!

The Net To Catch Your Fall

It was the season for colds and flu. Gavin had been bracedfor it, a bug had been making its way round the precinct and the sore throat he’dbeen waking up with for the last few nights spelled a few not so great daysahead.

“Morning G-Man!” Tina chirped at him as he walked past herdesk.

“Morning,” he said. Or tried to, but it was more of a hoarsecroak.

“Well shit dude, sounds like you went to town on a hundreddicks last night.” It was reassuring to know that Tina was a sympathetic asever.

“I wish,” Gavin shot back with a grin.

“Want me to grab you some throat soothers?”

She was alright after all; her heart was in the right place.All the same, Gavin waved her off.

“I need to go to the pharmacy anyway; I’ll pick some upthen.”

Of course, he didn’t get a chance to go to the pharmacy.They were called to a crime scene half an hour before he finished work. By thetime they were done the pharmacy had long since shut. There was always the nextday.

Unfortunately, the next day was no different to the previousone. By the time Gavin could get to the pharmacy it was shut. He shrugged, hehad a few days leeway, he was organised and knew how to keep his shit together.It was going to be fine.

If it wasn’t going to interview potential witnesses, it wasa meeting that over ran or getting caught up in paperwork that needed to beurgently filed. Getting a warrant was no laughing matter and even a day’s delaycould mean the difference between a successful case and evidence beingdestroyed. A packet of throat sweets landed on Gavin’s desk.

“Since you still haven’t managed to cough up your lung, nomatter how hard you’re trying,” Tina said and walked away.

“Thanks,” Gavin tried to yell after her but his voice cameout more as a whine.

He popped a lemon flavoured sweet in his mouth and tried toignore the sluggishness that had been creeping through his body.

Things were getting worse though. He struggled to focus onhis work which he could blame on his cold but the blanket of indifferent dreadthat shrouded him wasn’t so easy to dispel. Finally, he had the time to go tothe pharmacy. It had been almost 2 weeks he’d been trying to go. Of course itwas the day he left his prescription at home.

The clock ticked over six and Gavin pushed away from hisdesk. There was no point in staying to finish the report he’d been staring atfor the last three hours. It wasn’t like anyone was ever going to read itanyway. He walked out of the precinct and didn’t look back.

His desk was empty the next day. A few people cast curiousglances at it but people assumed Gavin had finally succumbed to the bug goinground and had decided to take a day off to recover. When his seat stayed emptythe following day and the day after, Nines began to worry. He approachedCaptain Fowler with well-intentioned questions and didn’t expect the bluntanswers he got.

Fowler had no idea where Gavin was, he didn’t pick up hisphone, reply to e-mails. For the time being, he could be signed off as absentdue to sickness but if he didn’t get in touch soon, Fowler couldn’t cover forhim.

“Why don’t you pop round his? Check in with him. It’sunusual to take so long off without at least a message,” he’d suggested.

It got Nines thinking, he didn’t know what he’d say to Gavinupon encroaching on his home. He also didn’t want to do it alone. That’s how hefound himself with not just Connor, but also Hank behind him as they approachedGavin’s home.

There was no response to knocking. Not on the first attempt,or the second. After the third time, when Nines raised his hand to knock oncemore, Hank grabbed his hand.

“I don’t think he wants to answer the door,” he said.

Sullenly, Nines lowered his hand.

“What if he’s in there and he needs assistance though?”

They could hear Gavin’s phone ringing in the hallway of theapartment block. If the man wasn’t in, he’d left his phone behind. Just to makea point, Nines called it again and stared Hank down.

“Fine, if he gets pissed that we broke into his flat, you’retaking the blame,” Hank rolled his eyes and gestured to the door.

Nines lifted his hand and prepared to break through it

“Woah!” Hank grabbed his arm again. “Easy there.”

He reached for the door handled and twisted it. It openedwith a click and Hank shot Nines a look that spoke volumes.

“Always check the easiest route first,” he grumbled.

It was impossible to miss the way his fingers stillunclipped the top of his gun holster, ready to expect the worst. The apartmentthey walked into was stale for want of a better word. It hadn’t seen movementin days and Hank wrinkled his nose at the smell. Nines called Gavin’s phoneagain and they listened to it ring and vibrate from a room with the door ajar.Slowly, they moved towards it.

The room was darker than expected, the curtains haphazardlypulled shut and the phone lit up the room where it rang on the bedside table.The smell of days old sweat lingered and Nines was tempted to shut hisolfactory sensors down but something stopped him. On the side of the bedfurthest from the bedside table was an unmoving form.

Connor pulled the curtains away and they stared at Gavin whowas curled up in bed, bare shoulder poking out from under the cover. His eyesslid over the three intruders before turning back to the bedside table in anunfocussed stare. Out of shock, Nines rang the phone again and watched Gavin’seyes track to the noise before returning to his blank stare.

“Gavin?” Connor asked.

There wasn’t even a flinch of acknowledgement from the bed.Hank looked over the room, there was a half full bottle of water on the floorby Gavin’s side, his phone on the bedside table, plugged in and charging. Thosehe was happy to see. What was more troubling were the boxes of pills next tothe phone, indiscriminately piled up but thankfully none of them open alongwith pen and paper. It was obvious that someone had tried to write something,but sheets were scrunched up with scribbled out words. Whoever Gavin was tryingto write to, he had obviously failed.

“I don’t understand,” Nines started and Hank cut him offwith a sharp look.

“Connor, tidy up a bit in here please,” Hank nodded at theboxes of pills and the pile of clothes abandoned at the side of the bed. “You,come with me,” he pointed at Nines.

They walked into the kitchen where Hank began to rummage throughthe cupboards, looking for something easy on the stomach.

“My scans show that Gavin is fine,” Nines started again andHank slammed a cupboard door shut.

“Does that man look like the walking definition of fine?” hesnarled.

“No. I don’t understand. Even his lingering laryngitis isall but gone.”

“Just because your scans show that someone is fine doesn’tmean they are. There’s more to a human than just their body. Like there’s moreto you than your chassis and hardcoding.”

While Nines stood and contemplated the words, Hank continuedhis search. After a moment his eyes fell on the fridge which had a few piecesof paper held to it with magnets. Mostly they were scribbled reminders, shoppinglist, appointments and meeting dates. Amongst it all, he spotted a vaguely familiarlooking piece of paper. A prescription.

“Ah.”

That was all he said before he pulled it free and scannedover it. He frowned when he saw that date and looked at his watch as he workedout how overdue it was.

“Take this to the pharmacy, pick it up. Tell them it’surgent police business if they give you any trouble.”

Obediently, Nines took the proffered prescription and left. Itgave Hank a few minutes to find a pack of plain digestive biscuits in the backof a cupboard before Connor appeared in the kitchen doorway with an armful ofboxes.

“I’ve done what I can,” was all he said before he found theempty drawer and began to sort through the pills.

“I know, Con, I know,” Hank laid a reassuring hand on hisshoulder. “Baby steps, remember?”

Connor shot him a sad smile and wondered whether all humanswere so broken or whether it was a side effect of knowing him. He watched Hankdisappear into the bedroom and sighed. He hoped he was just unlucky in knowingso many humans cursed with depression.

Inside the bedroom, Hank put the plate of biscuits down onthe bedside table and took a good look at Gavin. His hair was falling in greasystrands, his usual stubble longer, almost worthy of being called a beard. Helooked hollow, eyes empty of all light and each breath a slight shudder like itwas the most difficult task in the world to keep breathing. It probably feltlike it.

“I can’t promise that eating something will make you feelbetter, but it might be a start,” Hank tried.

When he got no response, he shrugged. He hadn’t expected hisvoice and idea to work miracles after all. Without sighing, or even expressingany disappointment, Hank walked around the bed.

“I’m going to help you sit up, if you feel light headed atall then squeeze my shoulder and we’ll get you lying back down. But once you’reup, I’m going to but a biscuit in your hand and you’d going to eat it.”

There was no response but Gavin let his arms be positionedaround Hank’s neck and put up no resistance to being sat up. His face wassallow in the light and Hank gave him a moment, holding his shoulders to makesure he wasn’t about to keel over.

“Okay,” he muttered and let Gavin go.

It was almost like watching a haunted doll. Hank pushed abiscuit into Gavin’s lax fingers and after a moment they grasped hold of it.Mechanically, the biscuit was lifted to Gavin’s mouth and he took a bite, eyesstaring at the far wall. When he’d finished it off, there were crumbs on hisshirt but it was the least of Hank’s worries. Instead of brushing him down, heran a gentle hand through greasy hair.

“Well done,” he murmured and Gavin’s eyes fluttered shutbriefly. “Nines will be here with your prescription soon. Things will get backon track.”

He helped Gavin lie down again and wished they were at thestage they could at least change the covers on the bed.

True to his words, Nines was back with the prescription andhe helped Hank sit Gavin up again. They pressed two pills into his palm and watchedhis throat bob as he swallowed them dry. The water he swallowed after it was anautomatic gesture, not one borne out of need.

“Try to get some sleep,” Hank rumbled softly. “Nines willstay with you while Connor and I will sort a few things out.”

They left the door half open and Connor’s LED flashed yellowfor a moment as he listened to Nines start to talk. It was all inconsequentialthings, stories from the precinct, the cases they worked on, where they made adifference. Not once did Gavin even huffout a note of acknowledgement and Connor reached out to Nines in silence.

His lack of responseis not a reflection of you. Do not lose heart.

It seemed to dissipate a little of the disappointment thatNines found himself sinking into and he continued talking to Gavin, even if hischoice of stories veered towards the more outrageous.

A quick phone call to Fowler and suddenly the three of themdidn’t have a day off together for two weeks. Each day Hank, Connor or Nineswas off and they could spend the time with Gavin until he got back on his feet.

“I read somewhere that animals could bring positive healthbenefits to humans,” Nines mulled over dinner one evening. It was Connor whowas sat with Gavin that night.

“I’ll take Sumo with me tomorrow then,” Hank nodded and eyedhis dog. “I’m sure Gavin used to have a cat.”

The next day was Hank’s first alone with Gavin. He got thereearly enough for Connor to be able to get to work comfortably and he ignoredthe puzzled look of seeing Sumo on a tight leash by Hank’s side.

For the most part, the day was quiet. Sumo had made himselfat home in Gavin’s flat, snuggled up next to him and occasionally turned tolick the man’s hand that was buried in his fur. It was the first time Hank hadseen Gavin move voluntarily, even if only to thread fingers in thick fur andgrip like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

The next day it was Nines with Gavin. He mostly sat on thebed, on top of the covers and talked. When he saw Gavin’s eyes droop, sleepthreatening to pull him under, his voice softened until he was certain Gavinwas drawing deep even breaths, eyelid fluttering as he dreamt. The fact he wokewith a panting gasp shouldn’t have surprised Nines, nightmares were on par forthe course really. But he hadn’t anticipated a hand shooting out to grab at hisin a vice like grip. Nines pulled the hand into his lap, the fingers of hisfree hand stroked over the knuckles until they relaxed a little.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin whispered, voice hoarse with disuse.

“You’re doing just fine,” Nines replied and pretended not tosee the tears that trickled across Gavin’s face, tracing the path of the scaron his nose.

With Connor there, it was a little less personal. He didn’tsit with Gavin all the time, gave him space as he worked at his kitchen table.There was the sound of a door closing which made Connor jerk upright, followedby the sound of a shower turning on. With a small smile, he hopped off thestool and walked into the bedroom. It only took him a few minutes to change thesheets, fluff up the pillows and quickly air the room. By the time Gavinstumbled out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of boxers, Connor was backon the stool as though he’d never moved in the first place.

“Didn’t you used to have a cat?” Connor asked that evening.

Gavin had sat up by himself and accepted the small bowl ofthick soup with a brief moment of eye contact. Obviously it was the wrongquestion to ask because Gavin froze up at the words and his head dipped, hairfalling into his face like a shield.

“She’s the neighbour’s now,” he rasped after a minute ofsilence.

“I see,” Connor didn’t, but he wasn’t sure what he could sayto remedy the situation.

“When I last had an episode,” Gavin broke off for a momentfor a breath. “When I last got like this, I couldn’t look after her. It wasn’tfair. Couldn’t neglect her like that. So I found her a better home.”

He sniffed and Connor furiously tried to backpedal withplatitudes of Gavin doing the best for her, of her being happy in her new home.Nothing seemed to help, if anything it just made things worse and he had totake the bowl from Gavin’s lax grip before it spilled everywhere.

“Because anywhere was better for her than with me,” Gavingasped and pulled his knees up to his chest.

His tears stopped as quickly as they started but he didn’ttake the bowl back from Connor that evening. Even from the living room Connorcould head his stomach rumbling with hunger. Humans punished themselves in thestrangest of ways for the oddest of things.

Handover to Hank in the morning was a mixed affair. Sumo hadbeen allowed to charge ahead into the apartment and had already taken up hisfavourite spot on the bed next to Gavin. It left Connor with a chance to giveHank a rundown of all the good things (shower, clean bedsheets and sometalking) as well as the not so good (crying over his cat, perhaps it was bestto avoid the topic for a bit). All through it, Hank nodded and when he was doneand getting ready to leave, Connor was surprised to be pulled in for a hug.

“You did good,” Hank murmured against his hair, “sometimes agood cry is what’s needed.”

Puzzled, Connor left for work, mind racing through thereasons why inadvertently making Gavin cry was a good thing. He drew a blank.

Back at the apartment, Hank knocked on the bedroom door.

“Rise and shine,” he called, “the pill club is moving to thekitchen table today.”

There was no response from the bedroom but he didn’t expectmuch either. After a minute of puttering around and setting out breakfast, hereturned to the bedroom.

“Ready to face the world yet? I won’t even make you dress upif you’re not up to that yet. Just come out and keep an old man company whilewe take our happy pills.”

That at least got Gavin staring at him, the hand buried inSumo’s fur stopping. It was enough of a reaction for Hank to retreat, confidentthat Gavin was going to follow. Sure enough, a few minutes later thefloorboards creaked and Gavin appeared in the kitchen doorway. He had even puta t-shirt on.

“Sit, sit,” Hank urged him towards one of the stools as heperched on the other one.

Each place was set up identical, a bowl of porridge, a glassof fresh orange juice and a box of pills next to each glass. Gavin eyed it allsceptically, carefully tacking Hank’s movements as he took his own pills andpopped one out. He took it with a gulp of orange juice and smiled at Gavin.

“You too?” Gavin asked. He’d recognised the brand of pillsHank was taking, it was one he’d tried himself but the side effects were toomuch to cope with.

“Me and probably half the precinct,” Hank nodded.

“Huh,” Gavin huffed out and reached for his own pills. Twosat in his palm as he regarded them before lifting them to his mouth andswallowing them dry.

“There’s no shame about it, you know that, right?” Hankasked softly. He didn’t look at Gavin, kept his eyes carefully on the spoonfulof sugar he was sprinkling over his porridge.

“Yeah, I know,” Gavin finally admitted.

It was progress, Hank didn’t want to push for too much toosoon but at the same time there was something they needed to talk about.

“That night we first came over,” he began delicately.

Gavin stiffened in his seat, ready to bolt.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Hank heldup his hands to placate, “but the door was open, you made it easy for whoevercame to find you. No need to call the police, break your door in, cause ascene. Trust me, I know, I’ve been through the same process. The pills on theside, you were going to take them, once you wrote your notes. But you neverfinished a note. What held you back?”

The silence between them stretched to an uncomfortable levelas Gavin pushed his porridge around in the bowl. Finally, he pushed it awayuntouched and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

“I didn’t have anyone to write a note to,” he bit out atlong last.

Hank nodded, no judgement showed in his face.

“I realised I was such an unwanted fuck-up that I didn’teven have anyone to say goodbye to. Nobody would miss me if I lay down and diedso that’s what I did. Wasn’t even worth taking the pills because they wouldhave been wasted on me.”

The outburst left Gavin’s chest heaving and Hank looked overat him calmly.

“Do you still think that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Gavin ran a hand through his hair thescratched at his beard with a disgusted frown.

“I don’t mean to pry and I know it’s none of my business,but,” Hank took a steadying breath and held Gavin’s gaze, “I thought you andNines might have a bit of a thing going.”

Gavin looked away at that and he scoffed.

“The poor bastard doesn’t know any better. He’ll find someonemore deserving soon enough.”

“Funny,” Hank mused, “that’s exactly what I used to thinkabout Connor. Don’t you think it’s a little unfair to be making that decisionfor Nines? Rather than asking him?”

“Can’t we talk about pills that make us less miserableinstead?” There was a whine to Gavin’s voice that made Hank smile.

“For what it’s worth, I’d have been gutted,” Hank finishedhis porridge and left the table to do the washing up.

The rest of the day passed quietly, Gavin burrowed back intohis bed but at least he was sitting up, back against the headboard and flickingthrough his phone. That evening he suggested that Hank go home but he was wavedoff.

“One more night on your couch won’t kill me,” he’d said.

In the morning Nines was at Gavin’s door, knocking politely.Hank opened it with a loose smile.

“He’s in the shower, had enough of beard itching,” he saidand stepped round Nines’ and patted him on the shoulder.

By the time Gavin emerged from the shower, freshly shaved tohis more usual look and hair towelled dry, Nines had breakfast set up.

“Hey,” a sudden bout of shyness took over Gavin and hestruggled to look at Nines.

“Hello Gavin,” Nines replied and held out a bowl of fruits. “Igot you some breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Gavin took the bowl and scooped up the box ofpills from the side. He popped two out and swallowed, chasing them down with astrawberry.

They stood in the kitchen awkwardly, Gavin munching on hisfruit for lack of anything better to do while Nines leaned against a counterand watched him. Eventually, the bowl was empty and Gavin ran out of excusesnot to talk.

“So,” he began and rubbed the back of his neck, “thanks. Foreverything. And sorry.”

“Are you apologising for your mental health?”

Gavin knew Nines well enough to find a hint of incredulityin in his voice. It made him dip his head and mumble his response.

“You are the way you are,” the words seemed so easy, comingfrom Nines, “you cannot help your chemical imbalance any more than I can helpmy core coding. We can both try to work around it with pills and layers ofsubroutines but neither of us asked to be the way we are.”

“I know that,” Gavin kicked at the ground in discomfort, histoes rhythmically stubbing against the floor.

“So you have nothing to apologise for unless you think Ishould be apologising for being built to be a killing machine.”

“I should have told you sooner, you should have known whatyou were signing up for right from the start.”

“You do realise I’m a state of the art detective androidwith real time lab analysis capabilities, right?” Nines let out a small smileas Gavin’s head snapped up in disbelief.

“You knew all along?”

“I happen to enjoy analysing everything about the one Ilove.”

The bowl went clattering from Gavin’s hand and he steppedaway with wide eyes.

“You can’t say that,” he gasped, a hand clawing at his chestas though trying to keep his heart in place. “You’ve not lived enough to knowthat.”

The unimpressed look Nines shot him was usually enough toinstil fear in anyone but Gavin had become immune to it over time.

“If you’re quite done.”

That at least shut Gavin up. Patiently, Nines offered up anarm in invitation for a hug and he tried his best not to roll his eyes whenGavin looked hesitant.

“I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”

“Prick,” Gavin huffed out a laugh and stepped over the bowlthat had cleaved in two as it fell.

“Are you quite done having an existential crisis?” Ninesasked even as he wrapped Gavin in his arms and rested his chin on top of hishead.

He could feel the brush of a smile against his collarboneand Gavin burrowed in a little closer.

“I’m not sure yet. Might have to stand here a little longerto make sure.”

Nines let him cling on, ignored the little shiver thatpassed through Gavin every now and then as he fought whatever inner demon itwas that had reared its ugly head again.

“Tomorrow,” Gavin mumbled into his chest,” “we’re going towork. And I’m buying you, Hank and Connor the biggest gift baskets I can find.”

“Or you could ask us to help next time you find yourself inneed. Preferably before things hit rock bottom,” Nines tried to compromise.

“Can’t promise that,” Gavin shook his head and looked up atNines with wide eyes. “But I can promise to try my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Nines replied and leaned down to press akiss to his lips.

The next morning when Connor knocked on the door, both Ninesand Gavin were ready to head to work. They bundled into the taxi alongside Hankwho smiled warmly at them all before pulling Connor’s hand into his and linkingtheir fingers. Shyly, Gavin reached out for Nines and grinned when they did thesame.

#reed900 #hankcon #dbh: gavin #dbh: rk900 #dbh: connor #dbh: hank #cw: suicidal thoughts #cw: suicidal plan #depression

104 notes · View notes