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whump-tr0pes · 1 month

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Honor Bound 6 - 26

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: PTSD, past captivity, references to being unsure of reality, thoughts of murder, self-harm themes, bad reaction to discovering self-harm, harm reduction, recovery

Isaac felt better already, knowing there was a locked door between him and the rest of the world. He had locked it behind Vera and Tori as they came in with tonight’s dinner: a hearty shepherd’s pie with rich bites of tender chicken, carrots, and potatoes all in a mouthwatering gravy. Once he had locked the front door, he had walked to the back door and made sure – for the second or third time since he’d gotten home – that it was still locked. It was, but it didn’t hurt to be so sure.

Edrissa had gotten into the house through the unlocked back door and then held a knife to Gavin’s throat. Isaac would have to be stupid to not check, and recheck, and check again.

Isaac sat on one side of Gavin on the couch, and Gray sat on the other. Vera, Sam, and Tori sat sandwiched on the other couch. Now that everyone was finished with dinner, Gavin leaned against Isaac’s side, and Isaac’s arm was slung over his shoulders. Gavin wasn’t shivering for the first time since they’d left the house that morning. Isaac was sated on two large slices of shepherd’s pie.

And yet, he ached to be holding his gun. The concerned glances Vera was throwing him weren’t helping.

“Thank you so much for bringing dinner,” Gray said, finally breaking the silence. “Did you make the pie, or buy it in town?”

“Bought it,” Vera said with a chuckle. “I appreciate your faith in us, but after everything… um. Recently.” She gave a stiff shrug. “Neither of us have felt like cooking.” She smiled tiredly at Tori over Sam’s head.

Gray let out a huff. “Same here,” they said gently. “But we’ve all been… through a lot. I don’t think anyone’s expecting anyone else to be out there crafting gourmet meals.”

“Except Edrissa,” Vera said tightly. “Apparently she’s been, uh… helping Meredith out. With the pies at the general store. Spending most of her time there, actually.”

“Really,” Gray said. Their tone was perfectly even.

Isaac’s hand tightened into a fist as the image of her flashed through his mind – cowering behind Gavin in that bathroom, eyes wild and streaming, clutching herself, looking terrified, as if she was the fucking victim and not the one pressing a knife to a man’s throat hard enough to draw blood just seconds before.

To Gavin’s throat.

His jaw ached and he swallowed hard. He forced himself to release his fist and brushed his lips to Gavin’s temple instead. He felt Vera’s eyes on him the whole time. He cleared his throat.

Sam wet their lips and leaned forward, seeming to sense the tension. “We’ve been keeping things as calm as possible here,” they said with a glance at Isaac. “Mostly just… sleeping.” They laughed. “All of us. Mostly Gray.”

“I don’t appreciate the accusation,” Gray said good-naturedly. “Although, god, I’ve never slept so much in my life.”

“What about you, Gavin?” Tori said softly. She reached over the back of the couch and rested a hand on Vera’s shoulder. “How are you sleeping?”

Gavin relaxed further against Isaac’s side and drew in a deep breath, thinking. “Well,” he murmured. “Better than in… than with Schiester. That’s definitely for sure. But…” Isaac bit his lip and waited for the second shoe to drop. “…it’s… sometimes hard to tell where I am. When I wake up.”

Isaac’s heart twisted. He knew all too well the things Gavin said, and fucking believed, when he wasn’t sure if he was staring at Isaac himself or merely a figment of his own imagination.

“D-don’t you want to… to punish me? …you want to, right? It’s… Isaac, it’s… it’s okay. It’s not… real, I know that. You can do… whatever you want. I can give that to you… if you want. I know it doesn’t really help you… But it’s what I have. P-please don’t stop touching me. Please… Isaac… please, this… this feels better than… a-anything he does to me.”

Shame clogged Isaac’s throat. His fingers itched for his knife. Fuck.

“Yeah,” Vera was saying. “Yeah, that’s… that’s the hardest part, I think. After. The waking up and not knowing, for a while.”

Isaac’s head snapped up. Vera held Gavin’s gaze, and he stared at her with an understanding that Isaac had never shared. Even though everyone except for Gray had been held captive, tortured, collared – what Gavin and Vera shared now was different. They had both been taken, punished by a sadist, had their minds broken down by pain and time – and drugs, in Gavin’s case. They had been kept in a basement, shackled for use because it brought a madman pleasure.

And they had both been alone.

Isaac’s hand shook as he slid it into Gavin’s and squeezed.

“Does that ever go away?” Gavin murmured, as if he had forgotten anyone else was there. Tears shone in his eyes.

“Yes,” Vera answered immediately. Then, she said, “Mostly. Months or years go by, and then you’ll have a shitty day or a bad nightmare and you’ll wake up not knowing where you are again. But the thing that matters is, it passes. And you’re always, always out once it passes.”

“Unless I get taken again,” Gavin whispered as the tears spilled over. “Like you did. Twice.” He shuddered and muffled a sob against Isaac’s shoulder.

Isaac’s arms wound around him in a trembling embrace, pulling Gavin into his lap. Vera stared at the floor, chewing on her lip.

She was taken again three times, if you count the time she went in to save Tori and killed Joseph Stormbeck to escape.

Isaac bit his tongue and shook his head to clear the thought.

“Alright, scootch over,” Tori mumbled as she crossed the living room to drop into the spot where Gavin had been sitting, gently laying a hand on Gavin where he now sat shivering on Isaac’s lap. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across Gavin’s shoulders. “There, better?”

Gavin nodded with his face pressed to Isaac’s neck. His tears streamed into the neckline of Isaac’s shirt. He wrapped Gavin up again, carefully tucking him in, and glanced at Tori inquisitively.

Tori nodded at Vera. “She’s a lot more sensitive to cold when she’s in the thick of it,” she said gently. “And he’s got goosebumps.”

“No shit?” Vera said. “Is that why you always get a blanket when I’m having a bad day?”

The corner of Tori’s mouth curved up. “Yes, dear, that’s why I always get a blanket when you’re having a bad day.”

Vera raised her eyebrows. “No shit,” she mumbled.

“Schiester k-kept the basement cold,” Gavin muttered into Isaac’s neck. “If I wanted blankets I had to… t-tell him things.”

All the blood drained from Isaac’s face. “What… kinds of things?” he croaked.

“Confessions,” Gavin whimpered. “I… I don’t think most of them were true. I don’t remember. I didn’t care. I was cold. Ziegler told me most of the things I admitted to weren’t true.”

“Who the fuck is Ziegler and are we killing them?” Vera said, sitting up straight and staring at Isaac. “Someone who knew you were down there?”

“Y-yes,” Gavin managed through a particularly violent shudder. “He… he didn’t… hurt me as much. And he… let me go.”

Vera’s eyes went wide. “Like—”

“Not like Ryan,” Isaac said sternly. Tears glittered on Vera’s eyelashes. “Just a guard who decided not to kill me when I was pulling Gavin out.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” Gavin said in a small voice. “He… he could have but he… didn’t.”

“But—”

“Fair enough, Gavin,” Vera interrupted. She shot Isaac a glare. “I get it. That can be enough to keep you sane. Just one person who doesn’t want to hurt you as much as the others.”

Gavin nodded weakly against Isaac’s neck. Isaac tried to meet Vera’s glare, but she shot daggers at him and he faltered. Tori’s hand moved in small, gentle circles on Gavin’s back.

“No one’s taking you again,” Isaac whispered against Gavin’s hair. His arms shook with how hard he squeezed Gavin. “No one. You’re safe, alright? You’re… you’re safe.”

As soon as Edrissa is dealt with—

I wonder if I could get to her before anyone realizes what I’ve done—

“You’re okay, Gavin,” Tori said gently, her hair mingling with his as she leaned in close. “We’ve got you.”

“Y-yeah,” Gavin heaved, and shuddered violently. His hand wrapped around Isaac’s wrist. “Yeah. I’m out.”

Edrissa’s the one who last made him question where he was. I’m going to fucking—

“What the fuck is that?” Vera snapped from her place on the couch.

Isaac’s head shot up and he glanced around the room, ready to neutralize the threat. He met Vera’s eyes and realized she was looking at him – no, not at him.

At his arm.

The sleeve was pulled up slightly on his forearm, exposing a scar left by Gavin’s knife – and the cut he himself had made over it, not five days ago. The angry line flared red in the dim light, and it was devastatingly obvious what it was.

Isaac dragged the sleeve down over the cut, obscuring his entire hand. “Nothing,” he growled.

“Isaac, fuck,” Vera breathed. She rose from the couch and stood over Isaac, staring down at him, looking stricken. “That…” Her hand shot out and she grabbed his wrist, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the line of cuts up and down Isaac’s arm.

Isaac yanked his arm out of Vera’s grasp, cringing back into the couch. Gavin slid off his lap and partially onto Tori. Isaac couldn’t even look at Tori; he could barely bring himself to look at Vera, who stared down at him in horror.

“It’s nothing,” Isaac pleaded with a broken voice.

“Vera, let’s respect Isaac’s desire for privacy,” Gray said, a little weakly.

Isaac could feel Gavin’s gaze drilling holes into the side of his head. He blinked back tears and swallowed hard against the shame strangling him. Slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.

Vera beat him to it. “I… told you not to punish yourself,” she said. She held her hands lamely out to her sides. “You said you wouldn’t—”

“No, I didn’t,” Isaac said through his teeth. “I never said that.”

Vera shook her head. “But—”

“I wouldn’t have said that,” Isaac said. His voice was fading, cracking under the pressure of Vera’s gaze. Having Gavin so close to him, feeling all eyes in the room on him, on his arms, safely hidden again under his long sleeves, was too much to bear. He swallowed again, hoping his dinner would stay down. “I never lied to you.”

“I n-never said you did,” Vera croaked. Her hands were in fists at her sides now. “I… how long?”

Isaac shook his head. He glanced at Sam, who stared right back at him. A quiet sort of pain pinched their mouth. “I… would really rather not have this conversation,” he said thickly.

“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t,” Vera breathed. She sniffed and lifted her chin against the tears that glittered in her eyes. “Isaac… why didn’t you tell me?”

“What, and have you react like this?” He meant to snarl the words, but they came out weak and pathetic sounding.

She nodded slowly. “You’re right,” she murmured. “That’s… that’s fair. I’m sorry, I… This isn’t… how I should be reacting.”

“Let’s everyone take a breath,” Gray said softly. “Vera, do you want to sit down?”

Vera returned to her couch on stiff legs and fell to her seat beside Sam. Isaac could breathe a little easier, without her standing over him. Gavin crawled back onto his lap and wrapped his arms around Isaac’s neck.

“Sorry,” Vera said flatly. She drew in a deep inhale and let it out in a gusty breath. “Sorry. That’s… probably the last fucking thing you needed.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said. He shrank as Gavin laid his head on his shoulder.

“Isaac, can I touch you?” Tori said. Isaac jumped, but relaxed a little when he met her eyes. Her gaze was soft, sad, but not filled with horror. Not like Vera’s. He nodded, and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’m really sorry,” Vera whispered. “That was… I wish I could take that back.” She wiped her eyes and sat up, taking another deep breath. “That was shitty of me.”

“No,” Isaac grumbled. His arms stung as if all the cuts were brand new. He longed to scratch at the ones that itched, but he couldn’t bear to draw any more attention to them. He swallowed tightly. “I should never have…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No.” Vera held up a shaking hand. “Don’t… don’t do that.” She raked her fingers through her hair and stared at the floor. “Um…”

Isaac couldn’t bring himself to say any of the things that were echoing through his head:

I know this hurts you. I know I did it because I’m weak. I know I would never have had to do it if I had just kept my family safe in the first place. I know…

He knew right where his knife was, too. Gray had taken the one he usually used, but he had another in his pack. All he would have to do is—

“Boy I wish someone else would say something,” Vera said with a broken laugh.

Gray leaned forward with a warm glance toward Isaac. “Did you hear Sam is going to be staying with us?” they said, without missing a beat. Isaac could have cried with gratitude at no longer being the subject of discussion.

Tori beamed and glanced at Sam. “I didn’t hear that! That’s so great.” Her voice was tighter than Gray’s, but it was still light. Isaac felt a wash of gratitude for her, too.

“Yeah,” Sam said. They sounded so tired. But happy, too. “Yeah, I talked to Zachariah about it and… I’m going to be staying here for a while.” They grinned at Isaac. “The foreseeable future.”

“That’s awesome,” Vera said, with only a little flatness to her voice.

“We’re definitely happy about it,” Gray said with a smile.

“It’ll be really nice to… to have you here, Sam,” Isaac croaked. He rearranged his face into what was probably a smile and willed the darkness in his chest to dissipate. “It’ll be nice to be together.” His arms tightened around Gavin as he said it.

Sam nodded, their expression brightening further. “We were worried about where I was going to sleep, but…” They patted the couch cushion next to them. “Turns out this couch is extremely comfortable. After how long we spent on the road, just about anything feels good.”

“You slept on my floor on an air mattress for months,” Tori said with a laugh. “Anything is better than that.”

“Even sleeping on the ground during winter?” Sam said with a mischievous smile. All at once, the exhaustion around their eyes faded away, and they looked like themself again. They looked like the Sam Isaac had always known.

“Depends on the winter,” Tori said. “In the south it wasn’t bad.”

“I’ll take the air mattress,” Vera interjected, raising her hand. “If I get a say.”

“Yeah, because it was on my floor,” Tori shot back with a conspiratory grin.

Everyone laughed at that, even Isaac. He felt the cold fist around his heart loosen a bit, then fall away entirely. As he looked around at the people he loved, feeling Gavin’s warm weight in his lap and Gray’s shoulder brushing his, he could breathe a little easier. He could survive another few minutes without his knife.

Perhaps he could go without it entirely, tonight. It would still be there in the morning if he needed it, and he figured he would. But… maybe then he could just hold some ice instead, if he didn’t need it too badly. What he knew for sure, though, was that he didn’t need the knife tonight.

With his family around him, alive, safe… he could go without the knife for a little longer.

Continued here

@womping-grounds , @free-2bmee , @quirkykayleetam , @walkingchemicalfire , @inpainandsuffering , @redwingedwhump , @burtlederp , @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments , @whumpywhumper , @stxck-fxck , @whumps-the-word , @justplainwhump , @finder-of-rings , @inky-whump , @orchidscript , @inkyinsanity , @this-mightaswell-happen , @newandfiguringitout , @whumpkitty , @pretty-face-breaker , @pebbledriscoll , @im-just-here-for-the-whump , @endless-whump , @grizzlie70 , @oops-its-whump , @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite , @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

#honor bound 6 #hurt/comfort #angst #whump #Isaac/Gavin #HMS ToriVera #PTSD #past captivity #unsure of reality #thoughts of murder #self-harm #harm reduction #recovery

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eleccy · 5 months

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Kristoph Gets Fawkin Murdered While Apollo Is Still Working For Him AU WIP

I have no idea if I'm going to write more of this but I'd like to gauge what the interest is in this scenario. Several people seemed interested in my post from a bit ago about an AU where Kristoph is killed while Apollo is working for him similarly to Mia and Phoenix's situation. BUT, there's a twist. Somehow it turned into.... this.

Let me know what you think. Full WIP is below the cut...

(CW for semigraphic details of violence/injury and use of weapons)

---

At first, Apollo thinks that Kristoph must be out of the office. "Hello? Sir? I brought the documents you requested…"

But the lights are on, even though there's nobody at Kristoph's desk. Kristoph wouldn't leave the office without turning the lights off.

Apollo steps further into the room, almost mindlessly. There doesn't seem to be anyone in here, after all-

And then-

Apollo takes a step back when he sees what he's certain must be Mr. Gavin's corpse.

Apollo has seen what images of dead people look like - he knows. Mr. Gavin is lying supine on the floor, red blood trickling down his temple and forming a small puddle on the floor. His shiny glasses are some feet away, smashed to smithereens - it looks like someone has stepped on them with force. His eyes are closed; he's completely still. His hair's undone, tangled blond sticky with blood. He's been beaten badly - dark bruising blooming over one eye, and his cheekbone, but the head wound appears to be the worst of it.

Apollo doesn't move, can't move. This is the worst of his worst nightmares. He knew that Phoenix Wright had found his mentor, Mia Fey, in a similar state, just like this. And she didn't make it.

Next thing he knows, Apollo is surging forward with a cry, adrenalin driving him on. He drops to his knees near Kristoph's body. Getting a better look doesn't help matters. He's really dead. Somebody… somebody killed him. Tears spring to his eyes. Mr. Gavin had taught him everything he knew about law. Mr. Gavin… cared about him. And that was one more person that Apollo just had to lose, from his biological father, to his adoptive father, to…

No use crying now. Have to start investigating. Now! Apollo had to find the culprit. Whoever did this had to deal with Justice.

Just then, Apollo heard a quiet sound in the otherwise silent room. He stared at Mr. Gavin's corpse. The sound came once again.

…Was it… a soft moan?

Apollo's first thought was that he didn't want to put his fingerprints onto a corpse, especially if it could ruin other evidence for forensics. But now…

Apollo's hand dropped delicately to Kristoph's pulse point. "M… Mr. Gavin, can you hear me? It's Justice!"

After a very long moment, Apollo watched as Mr. Gavin's eye twitched, definitely a twitch, one time, two times, then slowly opened, pained and hazy. Apollo almost fell over with relief.

But he wasn't out of the woods yet. And there was a chance he might not make it.

Fumbling his phone, Apollo dialed for an ambulance as fast as he was able, blurting out the first thing he could think to ask as he did so. "Sir, tell me, who did this to you? Who did this?"

Another soft moan, barely even audible. It was clear Kristoph couldn't move, could barely talk. He's probably in a lot of pain… But his lips were moving, and Apollo had to drop to the floor to hear the barely-there whisper. "E… Enigma…"

"Enigma? Enigma?" Apollo didn't know any Enigma, but it was better than nothing. The other end of the line picked up and Apollo screamed down it as loud as he could. "Hello?? We need an ambulance, please, at Gavin Law Offices, Mr. Gavin is-"

"Slow down, if you please - what's the address of the emergency, sir?" The woman on the other end of the line sounded tired, but she did stay on the line with Apollo while they waited for an ambulance to arrive.

"Does he have a pulse?"

"Y-yes, but it's very weak, there's blood everywhere, and-"

"Is he breathing?"

"Yes, but just barely, please send somebody soon-"

"They're on their way to you, kid. Just tell me if anything changes."

"It'll be okay." Apollo promises. Apollo isn't good at being soothing in an emergency. That's usually Mr. Gavin's job. All Apollo can try to do is think of how he would handle this situation. He'd tell me to calm down, breathe. Assess my options. Stay alert, but relax.

Mr. Gavin's hand seems okay where it's lying limply at his side. Not knowing what else to do, Apollo picks it up, holds it, and tries to be comforting - but realistically, this is a time where he'd want to hold his mentor's hand anyway, if it were somebody else bleeding out on the ground, so it's as much for Apollo's comfort as Kristoph's. They breathe, they wait, they watch, and Kristoph watches Apollo dimly out of the one eye that he can open.

"S'all gonna be okay." Apollo forces a smile out. Then he has to get up to let the paramedics in with the stretcher. Apollo thinks about asking to ride along in the ambulance, but Kristoph is so out of it that Apollo is pretty sure it won't matter if he just jumps on his bike and books it to the hospital ahead of the triage team.

Apollo sits in the waiting area of the triage center for a long time. Every hour he gets up to speak with reception and begs them for an update, and every time he is denied, until hour six.

A nurse takes him aside, and tells him.

Apollo is empty inside. Kristoph didn't make it.

The only person at the funeral who really cried was Kristoph's little brother, and Apollo could understand that.

Klavier hugs him, thanks him very deeply and sincerely for staying.

"You know," Klavier says, wiping away the tears that just seem to keep on coming, "I know that you being there really comforted him. It brings me so much comfort to know that he wasn't all alone. Thank you. Thank you."

"It… it was the least I could do." I should've done so much more. I should've been there. I should've saved him. If we had both fought, we would have been able to take whoever did this. We could've beaten Enigma… Apollo's whole body aches.

An Enigma. A puzzle.

Apollo checks the guestbook several times for anybody's signature that even looks something like "Enigma". But nothing jumps out.

"Mr. Wright."

"Sorry. I shouldn't be hanging around here."

"Weren't you Mr. Gavin's friend?"

"Yeah, I was. But he wouldn't want me showing up to this. Hey, listen. I want you to go to Central Hospital later today. Go to the tenth floor and ask to see David Krisler."

"Wh-what?"

"Four PM. No later. I'll see you there."

Apollo shows up as requested.

He feels funny, asking to visit somebody that he doesn't even know. What will he say if the nurse asks what his relation to the man is?

But nobody asks. The nurse brings him past a set of double doors and all the way to the end of the corridor. "He's in there. They're expecting you." is all she says before shuffling away.

More confused than ever, Apollo steps into the room. Is this some sort of a setup? What the hell did Mr. Wright lead me into?

The room is dim and warm, with all the window blinds down, and just one light on. Behind a sterile drape on the other side of the room, Apollo catches snippets of a conversation.

"-and not for nothing, but I'll know it when I see it-"

"Kris, the chances of anyone figuring anything out are about a million to one-"

The two people talking are Mr. Wright, and a very familiar voice. Apollo's heart surges as he takes a few quick steps forward, behind the curtain.

Both people go quiet and look up at him straightaway, Mr. Wright and none other than Mr. Gavin himself. Mr. Wright sits in a plastic chair at the side of a hospital bed. Mr. Gavin is in said hospital bed, which has been reclined to a level at which he can sit up most of the way. He still doesn't have his glasses, and his hair is a mess and he looks worse for wear, with big purple bruises covering one side of his face and his left eye swollen almost completely shut. The side of his head is bandaged and he looks awfully exhausted besides all that. Apollo isn't used to seeing him like this - weak, supine, vulnerable. It makes him look like a stranger. But he gives Apollo a tired smile.

"Close the door, Apollo. We've got a lot to talk about." Mr. Wright says evenly.

Apollo does. When he walks back to the bed, he realizes that there are no more seats. "Go ahead and sit at the foot of the bed if you're comfortable, Apollo. This is going to take awhile."

"Okay. I… I have so many questions I don't even know how to start, but… your funeral was today, sir."

"I heard."

"But… but you're not dead."

"Correct. Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated." Kristoph takes a slow, labored breath.

Apollo sniffs hard and wipes tears out of his eyes. He can't help this. Every time his adrenalin runs down and he's relieved, this happens. He can't help but become a crying mess.

"Can I… do you mind if I… h-hug you?"

Kristoph and Phoenix both laugh lightly. Apollo doesn't see what's funny about any of this. "I don't think you'd better, Apollo, not right now. Your boss is a bit fragile right now, so maybe no touch is the way to go." Phoenix says. Even though Phoenix says it, Apollo looks to Kristoph, who doesn't say anything in response to that, doesn't nod, but neither does he object, indicating that he agrees with Phoenix's assessment.

Apollo knows that Mr. Gavin doesn't like hugs very much, regardless of what's going on, but Apollo wanted the comfort and confirmation so badly that he'd thought there'd be no harm in asking. Now he bites his tongue. He won't ask any more silly questions.

"We… we have to go tell Klavier that you're alive. He'll be so happy, he-"

"Apollo, we can't tell anyone."

"…What? Why not?"

"If the one who attacked me knew I was still alive and kicking… he'd no doubt return to finish the job."

"Y-you mean Enigma?"

"Yes, Enigma. His full name is Shadi Enigmar. He is my assailant. Of that, I am certain." Kristoph nods with the utmost seriousness. "You must find him, corner him in court, and bring him to Justice. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Once this matter is dealt with, I may be able to reveal my ruse. But until then, here I will stay. Until that time, Phoenix will be in charge of this case, and of you."

"Of… of me?"

"I can think of no one better to keep an eye on you, Justice. I want you to follow his words as if they were my own."

Kristoph sighed deeply. "There is another reason why. Shadi Enigmar is a very dangerous and deceitful man. He shows no mercy in his choice of victim - young or old, it's all the same to him. The last thing I want is for you to come to harm because of your connection to me. Unfortunately, you are likely his next target, but Wright will protect you with his life if need be. He's my good friend, and I trust him in this regard."

"This is a very dangerous assignment. I don't want you taking any unnecessary risks." Kristoph hands Apollo a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"The combination code to my gun safe."

Apollo shudders. "Wh-what?"

"Yes. Even when you aren't investigating, you need to be carrying all the time, no matter where you are."

"I barely know anything about guns!" Who does he think I am?? James Bond?

"Wright will show you the proper methods. Obviously, it's for self defense purposes only. You need to be able to protect yourself. Had I been able to reach a weapon in time, all of this may have gone differently, no?"

"I don't want to shoot anybody."

"Well, when the time comes, you'll know what to do. I should hope you will protect yourself in due course."

Kristoph takes his hand in his. "Be smart and be safe."

---

That's all I have for now... :P (don't ask me what happens next because I don't know... you tell me lol)

#kristoph gavin #apollo justice #ace attorney #ace attorney apollo justice #aa4 #this has so much potential tbh #i needed some more of that krisnix being married and also apollos parents #and just not telling apollo anything. that energy from 4-1. i need more of that #and kristoph whump. yes. we need so much more kristoph whump in this fandom #hes pretty when hes suffering......

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miles-wrightworth · 4 months

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Phoenix Wright whump :3

Phoenix confronts Kristoph with his suspicions about his disbarment. Phoenix pushes too hard and Kristoph snaps.

A few hours later, Miles gets a call in the middle of the night from a concerned bartender and he rushes to the aid of his dear friend.

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this is the prequel to my fic The Defeat of The Devil (and the aftermath) but you absolutely do not have to read it to understand the plot. rated T for violence, blood, and excessive drinking.

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #narumitsu #wrightworth #writing #writers on tumblr #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #kristoph gavin #whump #whump writing

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quilthegreat · 2 months

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I have a prompt if ur interested! Connor & Gavin are out chasing a perp, but when Gavin goes to shoot the baddie, he accidentally shoots Connor instead👀 (cue Gavin Reed redemption)

... omigosh i love this somuch YESSS

ALSO cue the Enraged Hank Hours(tm)

esp. since i tend to headcanon Gavin as a crack shot, which makes it even worse bcos. he should have been better than that

so then Hank has even more leeway to get angerie =DDD

thx. for the excellent idea my good Certified Cute Human(tm) <3

#writing #fanfic #whump writing #writing community #fanfiction #dbh connor #dbh fanfic #dbh gavin

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runby2 · 7 days

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#vent #whump #whumplr #ace attorney #apollo justice #klapollo #klavier gavin #kristoph gavin

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whumpypepsigal · 1 year

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Wedding Season (Hulu) s01e06: “Stefan! Stefan! No, Stefan! Stefan, breathe!”

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the-bar-sinister · 3 hours

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What the hell is wrong with Kristoph Gavin?? (headcanons)

cptsd and potential bpd due to neglect, abuse and parentification by his parents

tyrannical, angry famous defense attorney father, dismissive, neglectful socialite mother

neglected as a young child and raised himself as an early reader. Straight As and "a joy to have in class. always polite"

Polite due to terror of setting off his father's temper, well spoken due to voracious reading as escapism.

learned to manipulate people without asking directly for what he wants in order to get any kind of positive attention from his father or mother

parentified and put in charge of raising Klavier as soon as Klavier arrived.

golden child/scapegoat dynamic enforced by their parents which Kristoph hates. Tried unsuccessfully to protect Klavier from their parents' anger– by always pushing Klavier to do better to measure up to their expectations.

Constant attention seeking due to neglect as a child.

Obsessed with keeping up appearances due to the fear as soon as people have a negative perception of you they'll leave or destroy you.

"the law is absolute" in that if you don't get caught, you haven't broken the law. Constantly had to evade and manipulate and loophole his father's tyrannical rules in order to avoid being punished for minor and abusive reasons.

#kristoph gavin #klavier gavin #gavin brothers #ace attorney #ace attorney headcanon #headcanon #cw child abuse #character analysis #mental illness headcanon #ace attorney whump #💻🔪

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alicetallulaafterdark · 4 years

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DEArtfest - July 2020 - Day 27 : #WHUMP - 27.07.2020

It was a pleasure to participate to the the DEArtfest organized by @octopunkmedia, based on their movie, Detroit Evolution in the universe of DBH

Day 1 : REVERSE AU / Day 2 : #SHARINGABED / Day 3 : COLLEGE AU / Day 4 : #PROPOSAL / Day 5 : WESTERN AU / Day 6 : #AMNESIA / Day 7 : TIME TRAVEL/LOOP – Reed900 / Day 7 : TIME TRAVEL/LOOP – Valerina / Day 8 : #DANCING / Day 9 : MERMAID AU / Day 10 : #SICKFIC / Day 11 : ALL HUMAN AU + GENDERBEND / Day 12 : #5+1 / Day 13 : COFFEESHOP AU / Day 14 : #ENEMIESTOLOVERS / Day 15 : SOULMATES AU / Day 16 : NOIR/MAFIA AU / Day 17 : #VACATION / Day 18 : CROSSOVER / Day 19 : #BODYSWAP / Day 20 : VAMPIRE AU / Day 21 : #MUTUAL PINING / Day 22 : PACIFIC RIM AU / Day 23 : #FAKEDATING / Day 24 : ALTERNATE ENDING / Day 25 : #ROOMMATES / Day 26 : ROYALTY AU / Day 28 : MONSTER AU / Day 29 : #STUCKINACLOSET / Day 30 : JANE AUSTEN AU / Day 31 : #TOUCHSTARVED

Day 27 : #WHUMP - Page 1 / 2 - 27.07.2020

I went with Gavin being kidnapped and tortured by a crazy stalker ex. Nines comes and saves the day. (And yeah, it's implicit but he killed the dude because nobody hurts Gavin without consequences !)

Done using ink pens, graphite pencils, a white colored pencil and an acrylic paint pen

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

Day 27 : #WHUMP - Page 2 / 2 - 27.07.2020

Done using ink pens, graphite pencils, a white colored pencil and an acrylic paint pen

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

#deartfest #detroit evolution #reed900 #gavin reed #nines rk900 #whump #cw : blood #cw : torture implied #fanart #tallula03's art

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whump-tr0pes · 5 days

Text

Honor Bound 6 - 27

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: themes of self-harm, harm reduction, imperfect recovery, PTSD, tattooing, piercings, themes on nonconsensual tattoos and branding, angst

“Come into town with me,” Sam said, looking right at Isaac over the breakfast table.

Isaac��s hand tightened in a fist around his cereal spoon. “Um…” He glanced at Gavin, who sat next to him. Gray had already eaten breakfast hours ago and was out on a walk.

Isaac’s scars stung. He was going to… not use his knife, he wasn’t going to do that after breakfast, he told himself he wasn’t. But his skin itched and he needed to do something. He had been planning on holding an ice cube after breakfast until it disappeared into water, dripping off his fingers.

He cleared his throat and tried again. “What’s in town?”

A faint flush warmed Sam’s cheeks, and a smile tugged at their lips. “Zachariah did some asking around, and it turns out one of the guys who lives in town used to be a tattoo artist, back down south. Zachariah is going in today to, uh… get his tattoo covered up.”

“Oh,” Isaac said softly. He chewed his lip and kept his gaze from flicking to Gavin with sheer will alone. “His…” He motioned at his own shoulder with the spoon in his hand.

Sam nodded solemnly. “His Stormbeck crest, yeah.”

Isaac’s brow furrowed. “How would they cover that up? It’s… huge. And dark black.”

“I don’t know,” Sam said with a shrug. “But apparently the guy said he could do it. And I wanted to go, to support Zachariah. I figured you might come with me.” Their gaze shifted to Gavin’s. “Both of you?”

“That sounds nice, Isaac,” Gavin said gently, sliding his hand into Isaac’s free one. “But if you, um… need a break after last night—”

“No,” Isaac snapped. The embarrassment of Vera’s gaze and words hadn’t faded, but he was fucking sick of being the one having to be babied. Not after what Gavin had been through. Not after what Gavin had survived – after what he nearly hadn’t survived. Isaac wasn’t going to be the reason Gavin stayed inside, away from the sun and air and grass, because he was fucking embarrassed.

He shuddered and carefully put his spoon down. When he looked up at Gavin and Sam in turn, they were looking up at him in concern – or perhaps something deeper than concern. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he ground his teeth against the shame that prickled where their gazes touched him. His throat worked and he made his shoulders relax.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I hate being this on edge.”

“We know,” Sam responded without hesitation – but without judgement, too.

Isaac offered them a tentative smile. He squeezed Gavin’s fingers and glanced between him and Sam. “I appreciate you being concerned. Both of you. But… I’ll be okay. I think it would be better, actually, if… if you both believe I’ll be okay. And…” He returned his gaze to Gavin’s, and his smile grew warmer. “And we should get you outside as much as possible. Get some color in those cheeks before winter comes.”

Gavin laughed and drew his hand through his short-cropped hair. “Vera did say I look so white now I may as well be a ghost.”

“Damn, Vera,” Isaac muttered.

“She meant it as a joke,” Gavin said, still smiling. “I wasn’t hurt by it.”

“I know,” Isaac replied. But maybe she could wait until I stop seeing you dead in my nightmares before she starts joking about it? He pulled Gavin’s thin hand to his lips and kissed the bony knuckles.

“So… yes?” Sam said, giving them both a thumbs up. “Tattoo guy? Zachariah? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Isaac said with a nod. “Gavin?”

“You know I’m always interested in going into town,” Gavin said with a grin, and in that moment, Isaac’s heart swelled to bursting. There was Gavin, his old self – perhaps not his old self, but his true self, the way Isaac had seen him in the few months they had had together before Gavin had been taken – radiant and mischievous and sweet. In that wide, contented grin, the pain and fear had fallen away from Gavin’s face, the circles under his eyes faded, and the scars stretched until they were pale again. Isaac’s throat tightened and he drank in the sight of the thing he hadn’t truly believed he would ever see again: Gavin safe, home, and happy.

The intensity of Isaac’s attention made Gavin blush. “What?” he said, his smile growing wider.

“Just… looking at you,” Isaac murmured. His own face flushed and he looked away. “Sorry.” He glanced at Sam. They stared at him, grinning too. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sam said with a chuckle. “It’s really nice to see you two back together, is all.”

Isaac flushed deeper and snatched his spoon up off the table. “Yeah,” he said, and scooped up a bite of cereal. “Let’s finish up breakfast so we can head into town.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said. “I can’t wait to see what Zachariah is gonna get.”

∴

Isaac didn’t know what he found more intriguing: the man’s tattoos, or his piercings. Isaac had seen all kinds of piercings before on the team’s missions – rings all over the ears, in nostrils, in lips, in eyebrows, in nipples – but he had never seen, or at least noticed, anyone who had pieces of metal seemingly embedded in their skin like the tattoo artist did. And he had them all over his face – on his dimples, cheekbones, and above his eyebrows. Isaac couldn’t stop staring.

The man seemed to notice. He gave Isaac a long glance, which had him shifting his gaze down sheepishly. When the man turned his attention to Zachariah, Isaac used the distraction to look at his tattoos.

They covered his skin – or at least, his left forearm and hand, with some stretching up his neck to wind across his jaws as well. His right forearm was almost completely bare, and the half-rolled sleeves of his shirt and pants obscured the rest of him from view. But across his left arm twisted the impossibly complicated shapes of skulls, birds, and geometric shapes, all in a gritty swirl of black and gray and red. The designs shifted with his muscles as slid his hands into his pockets. He stood only a little taller than Sam, and was even more slight in stature.

The shop itself was actually just a glorified shed attached to the feed store, but it looked like it had been completely made over to accommodate an array of tattoo supplies – plus a chair in the center of the large shed that looked like it could be unfolded to be like a bed. A few stools lined the walls as well.

“So,” the man said with a thin shrug. His dark, baggy clothes seemed to hang off him. “You said shoulder, right?”

“Um… that’s, that’s right,” Zachariah said softly. He rolled up his short sleeve and stared at the floor as he revealed his Stormbeck tattoo. Sam reached out and put a hand on his arm.

Isaac’s throat tightened. It’s bigger than I remember.

Still, the man nodded, seemingly unbothered, his eyes moving over the tattoo. He tilted his head. “Any ideas for what you wanted instead?”

“Oh… no,” Zachariah mumbled. “Just whatever works. I know it’s… it’s bad.”

The man snorted. “Definitely not the worst I’ve seen. You ever try to cover one of these up on the face?”

Gavin gasped. “Who the fuck tattoos on the face?” he breathed.

“The Torrs,” the man said with a dry chuckle. “When they’re feeling particularly shitty. A bull in the most god-awful blocky style, right here on the cheek.” He motioned to his own cheek, bare except for a dot of metal. “Or on the neck. Still, I think I’d prefer that over the Stormbecks.”

Gavin went rigid beside Isaac. Isaac could hear his throat click as he swallowed, watched his lips tremble as he opened his mouth and asked, “Why… would you prefer a face tattoo over the Stormbecks?”

With an easy shrug, the tattoo artist pulled up the sleeve on his right arm and exposed the brand over his bicep: the head of a raven, surrounded by vines. By the look of the scar, it was a decade old at least.

“R-right,” Gavin whispered. “Stormbecks brand.”

“Hurts like a bitch, too,” the man said with a chuckle.

“So you were owned by my— by Benjamin Stormbeck?” Gavin croaked. His eyes swam with tears.

“Yup,” the man said. When he didn’t continue, Isaac’s gaze shifted from Gavin and pinned the artist where he stood.

“You know who he is.” Isaac’s mouth was dry. His hand inched toward his gun.

“I suspected,” the man said gently. He shrugged again. “No hard feelings, though. I mean. I heard some of the story, so I know that’s not even your real name anymore. And I heard you were in town. So it wasn’t hard to guess. But like I said. No hard feelings. You think I haven’t done shit? I wasn’t branded for no fuckin’ reason. It was because I got caught selling Stormbeck playthings to a higher bidder. So.”

Gavin went pale. “You sold—”

Isaac fell back a step, pulling Gavin and Sam with him. “Let’s—”

The man raised his hands. “Holy shit, here’s a good first impression. I did it so I could feed my little sister and her kid. And I didn’t exactly enjoy it. And once I escaped, I didn’t start again. Fuck, I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to Zachariah. “Well, I might have entirely fucked this up. Sorry. But I would like to help you out, still.”

Zachariah stood frozen, his eyes darting between the man and Sam. “I… um…”

“Start over, maybe? My name’s Brandon.” Brandon held out a hand and shook Zachariah’s. “Good to meet you, man.”

Zachariah’s hand swallowed Brandon’s, but his was shaking. He squeezed Brandon’s hand in a quick handshake. “You too, Brandon,” he said, shuffling his feet.

“And you guys, too,” Brandon said, his relaxed demeanor slightly giving way. He held out his hand for Gavin to shake.

“Gavin Uriah,” Gavin said, his eyes still downcast.

“Yup,” Brandon said with a nod. He held out his hand to Sam.

“Sam,” they said, their mouth turning down at the corners. They kept their arms folded awkwardly across their chest.

“Sweet.” Brandon didn’t skip a beat. He reached out to shake Isaac’s hand.

“Isaac Moore,” Isaac said flatly. He only barely held himself back from grinding Brandon’s knuckles together in his grip. Instead, he released his hand quickly, so he would be able to reach for his gun if it turned out he needed it.

“Okay, cool,” Brandon said, rubbing his hands together and glancing at the four of them. “It really is my bad for bringing up the plaything… thing. Not exactly something I’m proud of and it’s honestly not something I bring up a lot. If you don’t feel good about moving forward, totally cool. But…” He peered at Zachariah’s tattoo again, taking a step to the side as if to look at it from a different angle. “I think this is totally doable, depending on what you go with.”

Anger and distrust churned in Isaac’s gut. The door called to him, but more than that; this entire town felt absolutely crawling with people he couldn’t – or shouldn’t – trust. Just being in the same room with someone who had sold stolen playthings made him sick to his stomach, and to know that this same man had also brought up the Stormbecks knowing who it was that stood in front of him…

After everything Gavin has been through, after having that history carved into his fucking arm…

“What do you think, Zachariah? It’s up to you,” came Sam’s voice, winding through his distrust – and below the distrust, as there always was, was fear.

Zachariah wrung his hands and looked to each of them in turn. “Um… I would… really like to have it covered,” he said weakly.

“Then let’s stay and have it covered,” Sam said with a nod. They glanced at Isaac, and he felt their gaze like an admonishment.

He forced himself to nod back, forced his shoulders to relax.

“Okay,” Brandon said with a gusty exhale. “Sounds good. Um. I do a lot of my designs freehand as long as they’re simple, but I have the stuff to do a stencil too. So. If you don’t have any ideas, um…” He pulled up a stool and sat down. Everyone else remained standing. Brandon didn’t seem to notice. “What kind of things do you do? What do you enjoy?”

“Um…” Zachariah spread his hands. “I don’t… really know. I uh… I played soccer with my siblings, but that was more for them.”

“Hm. Okay. What else?”

Zachariah glanced at Sam and blushed a furious red. “I like… Sam,” he said, almost too quietly to be heard.

“No go. I don’t do couple’s tattoos.” Brandon waved the idea away. “Used to be bad luck in case you broke up. Now I don’t do it in case one of you dies.”

Isaac let out a sound like he’d been punched.

“Way less likely up here, but a superstition is a superstition,” Brandon said with a shrug. “Let’s think of something else.”

“Um…” Zachariah twisted his hands together. “Finn and Ellis have… a cat that’s really friendly, and I like him…?”

“Mm, could be promising,” Brandon said. “What are the main colors?”

“Oh, he’s all black,” Sam said with a grin.

Brandon leapt up from the stool. “Bingo,” he said, and went to his table of supplies. He paused and glanced back at Zachariah and lifted his eyebrows. “Does that work? Black cat tattoo?”

“You… can really make this work?” Zachariah murmured, glancing to the others hopefully and back to Brandon.

“Sure thing,” Brandon said. He pulled on some gloves and began preparing the tattoo gun. “Only thing to settle is payment.”

Isaac’s stomach dropped. “We don’t have any—”

“Yeah, I know, nobody does,” Brandon said with a good-natured wave of his hand. “But I have a small tree that’s been about to fall over in my yard for a few months. I don’t have a car to pull it over and I don’t have the strength or… frankly, the fuckin’ time to chop it into firewood when it does go. Help me pull it over, then give me like four hours of chopping? Whatever amount of wood that makes?”

“Th-that’s it?” Zachariah said softly. “That’s… all you want?”

“Yeah, dude,” Brandon said with a snort. “Believe me, it’s worth it to me.”

“I can start tomorrow,” Zachariah breathed.

“You’ll start once this is healed,” Brandon laughed. “You don’t want a tattoo this big getting infected. Especially not up here where I don’t have a lot of the stuff I would need to treat it.”

“Thank…” Zachariah swallowed hard and sank into the tattoo chair. “Thank you.”

Brandon turned around and rolled his tray of supplies closer to the tray. “Oh yup, just make yourself comfortable. I already wiped the chair down before you got here.” He gestured to the stools along the wall. “The rest of you want to have a seat?”

“Thanks,” Sam said, and gave Zachariah a reassuring squeeze on his arm. They and Gavin each went to a stool and sat down.

“I’ll stand,” Isaac said coldly.

Brandon shrugged. “Suit yourself. Sit down if you feel woozy.” He poured disinfectant over a cloth and smoothed it over Zachariah’s exposed shoulder. “Did the old tattoo heal okay?”

“Um, yeah,” Zachariah mumbled. “Just a little itching. The Storm— um. They gave me a good tattoo cream for the healing process.”

“At least there’s that,” Brandon said with a one-shoulder shrug, peering at the tattoo again. “Let me just…” He uncapped a black marker and drew a few swooping lines across Zachariah’s shoulder. “There. That’ll be the general idea. Like I said, I can add more detail if you want, but…” He stripped off his gloves and passed Zachariah a mirror. “Take a look. Do you—”

“How did you do that?” Zachariah whispered, eyes wide, staring in awe at the mirror in his hand.

Sam jumped up off their stool. “They me see,” they said, grinning. They stared at the drawing on Zachariah’s shoulder. “I… wow. I didn’t… so you’ll fill in that part and that part?” They held out their left hand to point.

“Okay, now I have to see,” Gavin said as he slid off his stool, too. His eyes widened as he looked at Zachariah’s shoulder. “It’ll be…” He wet his lips. “It’ll be like it was never there.”

Isaac ground his teeth and stepped around Zachariah, unable to contain his curiosity. The drawing was simple, but the lines were clear; once they were filled in, the image of Nata curled on Zachariah’s shoulder would fully cover the black Stormbeck crest that marred it now. Peeks of Zachariah’s skin would even show through to show the cat’s eyes, nose, and whiskers, and his tail curled around Zachariah’s bicep.

“I love it,” Zachariah rasped. “Seriously, I… I love it. Let’s do it.”

Brandon clapped his hands together. “Awesome. Let’s do it.” He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and switched on the tattoo gun, dipping the tip of it into the small pot of jet-black ink beside him. “We’ll take this at your pace, okay? Shouldn’t take too too long, but if you need me to slow down or if you need to just tap out, no problem. We can always go again another time.”

Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together. Tap out?

Zachariah nodded vigorously and pushed out a slow breath. Sam pulled their stool forward and reached out, taking his other hand. Isaac watched in confusion. They’re acting like he’s about to give birth, what—

The needle touched Zachariah’s skin and he let out a hiss.

Isaac fell a step forward, his eyes fixed on the needle in Brandon’s hand. “Does that hurt?” he said, before he could stop himself.

“It’s…” Zachariah’s eyes went wide and he stared up at Isaac. “N-no,” he stammered. “No. It doesn’t. I… it’s not that bad, I promise it’s—”

“But it hurts,” Isaac said weakly. “Right? Like, does it always hurt?” He could feel Sam’s gaze on his face, but he ignored it.

Brandon wiped his mouth on his shoulder. “Depends on the person, and on the body part getting tattooed. And on what’s being done. But yeah, tattooing hurts, man. It’s needles going into your skin at like 10,000 times a second.” He chuckled and glanced up at Isaac. He immediately sobered when he saw the expression on Isaac’s face.

“Do you…” Isaac swallowed dryly. “Do you tattoo over scars?”

“Hell yeah, man,” Brandon said, and turned back to his work. “I work in the North. If I didn’t work with scars, I wouldn’t have a job.”

“I mean… do you…” Isaac’s hand shook as he fumbled for his sleeve. He wordlessly pulled his sleeve up to reveal the scars at his wrist and forearm.

Brandon paused his tattooing and looked at Isaac’s arm. He looked for a long time, so long that Isaac flushed with embarrassment and yanked his sleeve back down. Then, Brandon drew in a deep breath and said, “Of course I do work over those kinds of scars, man. But I can’t tattoo over broken skin. You’re gonna have to stop doing that if you want any work done by me.” Without another word, he turned back to Zachariah. He switched on the machine again and deftly moved it over Zachariah’s skin, wiping, tattooing, wiping, tattooing.

Isaac fell a step back and sank onto the stool next to Gavin. His scars prickled where the air had touched them. Still, as he watched Brandon work, he imagined how it might feel to have a needle slide into his skin 10,000 times per minute leaving ink in its wake, making designs instead of scars. He shivered as Gavin slid his fingertips against his palm and laced their fingers together.

“You doing okay?” Sam said gently.

“Yeah,” Zachariah said with a tight smile. “Really, it’s not bad at all.”

“Damn,” Brandon murmured, as if to himself. “This is gonna be a really cool piece.”

#honor bound 6 #hurt/comfort #whump #angst #self-harm #harm reduction #Isaac/Gavin #Sam/Zachariah #imperfect recovery #PTSD #branding

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sillie82 · 2 years

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Midsomer Murders, Ring Out Your Dead

I must admit that this moment with Troy getting hurt by the bell rope really gave me a craving for whump Troy fic, but there isn’t much out there, sadly... *sadface*

#midsomer murders #gavin troy #daniel casey #ring out your dead #troy whump #my gifs #gavin my precious

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androidfate · 1 year

Text

If you asked him, Detective Gavin Reed would say he’d well earned the next twenty-four hours of blissful peace-and-quiet he planned to spend sequestered in his apartment until his next shift. It was pushing 11pm, he’d spent the last three hours staring at a terminal screen, and he had a backlog of about ten shows he wanted to catch up on at home. He was going to eat, shower, and fall asleep in front of his TV if it was the last thing he did.

He’d just pulled up in front of a 24-hour convenience store on his way home when the call came in on the scanner. Noise complaint. Originating from the park a block over from his place. He knew it. Had been invited to a few late-night get togethers there, himself. Knew the kind of people who were likely involved.

There was no reason to get himself involved. This was something for the bottom-of-the-totem-pole late-shift rookies to handle. God knows he’d done his fair share of obnoxious milk runs in his time. Except.

Except that he knew his neighbors. Blue collar, dispossessed, and who only held cops about two steps above androids in esteem. If alcohol was flowing, and it would be, they’d be loud and rowdy and these days, itching for a fight.

It wasn’t Gavin’s business. He’d earned this night off. He barely liked his neighbors.

Huffing through his nose, he reached for his police scanner and told the dispatcher he’d check it out.

——-**________________________

Based on the complaint (a noise complaint, remember?), Gavin had rolled up expecting thumping music and a giant crowd of bodies. Instead what he could see from his car were about ten individuals, all chatting and laughing loudly enough that their noise echoed from the tall buildings that corralled them on all sides.

When he slammed his car door shut behind him, it echoed just the same.

There were three people crowding a bench at the edge of the park, and one recognized Gavin just as Gavin recognized him.

“Detective Reed!” his neighbor—Terrence, Gavin thought he was called. Or Terry maybe—called to him. “What brings you here?”

“You know damn fucking well what brings me,” Gavin answered, strolling up casually. He’d come to avoid conflict, but he wanted to get this shit done as fast as he could. “DPD has had noise complaints for this little party you’re having,” he informed Terry. “Time to wrap it up.”

Terry tilted his head back in a laugh. “Fuck ‘em!” he declared boldly. “C’mon man, it’s Saturday night!”

Gavin turned his attention to the larger group of partiers, farther away from the street. They were gathered in a knot of activity, bustling around each other, cheering as if they were watching a football game. Something niggled at Gavin’s awareness.

“What’s that?” Gavin asked, stepping towards them.

Terry and his group groaned and made various noises of protest. “Let them have their fun while they can,” one of Terry’s friends suggested, sucking on a cigarette. “Might be their last chance to let loose.”

As Gavin approached, he realized what he was seeing. Six or seven people, surrounding a figure lying prone in the grass of the park. Gavin could make out a slim male figure before the group began kicking at it again.

“Hey! Hey!” Gavin yelled, cutting through the group like an arrow. He grasped at the figure they were laying into, managing to grab a handful of silky fabric and heavily heaved the man to his feet. He saw two well-dressed feet, though one was twisted backwards in horrifying injury. The crowd around him booed as he pushed their victim up against a nearby tree trunk to keep him upright.

It was then that Gavin realized. He wasn’t man-handling some poor victim of an assault, but a being of plastic and programming. The spinning red LED belied the bedraggled figure. It was an android, heavy in Gavin’s hold.

Not just any android, Gavin realized, as he got a better look at the thing. It was Connor. Anderson’s plastic pet.

Gavin blinked at it in disbelief. He had seen this thing in action by now, and he knew there was no reason that a drunken group of humans would have been able to overpower it. There was no reason for it to be hanging heavily between Gavin and the bare bark of a tree, its head dangling weakly like some mere mortal. It must have allowed itself to be brought here, though Gavin couldn’t imagine why.

“Jesus,” Gavin mumbled at the android, supporting it back against the bare tree of the park. Terrence, or Terry, or whoever was still chattering in his ear, a bunch of insensate nonsense.

Gavin sized the android up critically. One of its legs was twisted around, its foot faced the wrong direction. Its clothes were a mess, which was unlike it—Gavin had noticed it preferred to look put together—and several fingers on each hand were bent out of shape. Its face was bleeding plastic white through the illusion of skin, underneath the blue stain of Thirium. One of its eyes had formed an electric blue cataract, and hell if Gavin knew what the fuck that meant. This highly specialized android prototype was meant to be cutting edge in both investigation and combat, and for some reason it had allowed a group of drunken humans to beat it within an inch of its life. Had made Gavin responsible for keeping it alive now.

“You stupid fuck,” Gavin growled absently as he looked at it, still holding the android up with one hand. And the android, mindless of its mangled fingers, reached one hand up to clasp weakly at Gavin’s wrist. It looked up at Gavin, warm brown eyes from beneath a fall of limp brown hair.

Gavin had never cared for androids. Give ‘em all a bullet in the head, as far as he was concerned. But he’d never understood the people that liked torturing them. That liked pulling them apart the way psychopaths did with their sister’s Barbies, before finally turning their torture to puppies and kittens and other things that couldn’t fight back. Maybe that was the feeling he had in his chest as he looked at Connor now.

“Alright,” Gavin said loudly, feeling a million miles away. “Clear everyone out, before I have to call this in.”

Terry guffawed in his ear, as if this was the funniest thing he’d heard in his life. Fucking drunks.

Gavin turned to him, eyes narrowed. “Did you hear me? I said get these motherfuckers out of here! Do you want to spend the night in handcuffs?”

Terry gaped, but one of his companions picked up the slack. “For what?” she asked. “We didn’t do nothin’. They’re just…things! We didn’t do nothing they didn’t deserve!”

Gavin narrowed his glare on her. “This thing is property of the Detroit Police, dipshit. So do as I say, and get everyone out of here.”

For a moment they stared at each other. Then, wide-eyed, but with a curt, terrified nod, the woman turned away from him and started rounding up her friends. This included Terry, luckily enough.

Gavin turned his attention back to Connor. “Fuck,” he grumbled. So much for a quiet night, it wasn’t like he could leave the thing like this. “Can you walk?” Gavin asked it urgently. It was still leaning against him with an enormous amount of weight. He glanced back at his car, before maneuvering himself under the android's arm and taking most of its weight on his shoulders. “Fuck,” he repeated under the strain, “come on, you waste of space.” He elbowed Connor into motion, and together, the two of them began a shambling stagger in the direction of Gavin’s car.

#drunk writing #seriously what is this #detroit become human #convin #maybe?#no idea where i'm going with this don't know gavin as a character at all #clearly i want connor whump and i guess gavin gets to be here too #have i mentioned i'm drunk

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