Natural Selection (Elijah Kamski x Reader)

Man of the Century

Over the years, you'd seen rookies come and go. You'd seen the worst of Detroit, and the best of humanity, sometimes in reverse. The situation in the city calmed down immensely, and even though you'd only been there for 5 years, the craziness back then gave you your own war stories to tell. Banks weren't being robbed anymore. Cars weren't being set on fire just to spite said banks for threatening to repo them. Disgruntled workers who were laid off put down their weapons, but only after taking a few coworkers down with them, unfortunately. Out of all the madness that ensued in the early days of your employment, that was the one you always struggled with the most.

"You heard from Hank lately?" Anthony asked, taking a right turn down a street.

You were on a typical patrol during a rather boring part of the night, which really meant before bars close.

"I've been sworn to secrecy, so don't repeat this..." You warned, "But yeah, I've heard from him. We met up last night at the bar."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"What did I just say?" You snapped, "He made me promise not to tell anyone, not even you. And I just told you anyway!"

"Alright, fine. Which bar though?"

"Some no name place on fourth. Not Jimmy's, he's not stupid. He knows he'd get swarmed there."

It'd been 3 months since Cole died. Lieutenant Anderson hadn't been to work very often, and the times he did bother to show up, he'd pick a fight with the nearest android and get sent home for damaging state property. Since the android workforce had tripled during his leave of absence, every time he came back was an unwelcomed reminder that his son died at the plastic hands of one. Many of his associates at the DPD tried to ease that pain. Tried to remind him that it wasn't the android's fault, that the blame belonged to the human doctor who was too high to operate that night, and delayed Cole's surgery by the seconds it would've taken to save his life.

All you did was listen.

You let him rant and rave, and cry, and only stepped in when he started blaming it on himself. He swore at himself for not getting a self-driving car like his wife begged him to. Accused himself of driving too fast for the road conditions, and not paying attention. As much as he blamed that android for Cole's untimely passing, Hank placed half of that on his own person. It was a dangerous thought process to go down.

"How's he doing?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence.

"Not great. Pretty sure him and his wife are getting a divorce. That's kind of compacting the issue."

"Kind of? Yeah, I'd say. The loss of a child, though...I don't know how you get past that in a marriage."

You froze up, and he immediately started blabbering about "that's not what I meant," "I'm so sorry, that came out wrong," and other default phrases used in damage control.

"I know!" You shouted, "I know. Jesus." You scoffed, "And you don't. You don't get past it. Obviously."

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't pretend like the only reason Elijah is finally signing the divorce papers is because of what happened with...you know. That one incident."

"My miscarriage?" Your brows furrowed, "You can say it, you know. I'm not a delicate fucking flower."

"Yeah, I know, fuck...I'm just trying to be nice. What's your problem today?"

You sighed, "I don't know..."

You leaned your cheek into your fist, your elbow planted on the windowsill. You watched the city scroll by out of the glass pane as the cabin rocked, the cruiser's wheels going over speed bumps and through divots in the street.