Hickory

The Press Release

It was around four-thirty when Nines' stasis cycle was interrupted. An alert told him that Reed had stumbled out of his bedroom, Pipsqueak winding through his feet as he walked. Nines' LED stuttered yellow at the interruption before settling to its usual calm blue, life returning to his silvery eyes as he blinked. The kitchen light clicked on as Reed tiredly grasped a cupboard handle and pulled it open. He was thirsty, filling a tall glass with water before pretty much downing it. He wiped his lips on the back of his hand before refilling the glass and leaning on the counter, still heavy with fatigue.

"You should get some more sleep." Reed almost jumped out of his skin at the light chiding, apparently forgetting that he'd stayed over. It was a little surprising. Nines had been staying over for weeks at this point. His mind was working slowly, but he did finally catch up and register both what he'd said and that he was allowed to be there. Rather than heading to his room, he crossed to the sofa and flopped into the empty seat beside Nines.

"I don't know if I'm tired enough to sleep again." He certainly sounded sleepy enough as he put down the glass and leaned his head against the thick backrest. Nines examined his vitals closely, judging that he was absolutely tired enough to fall asleep again, and his body appeared to be in the process of doing just that. He looked down as Pipsqueak hopped lightly onto his lap and started a short interface requesting affection. Nines allowed it, stroking the silken fur slowly as Pipsqueak curled up and settled in place. He said nothing, knowing the silence would help Reed fall asleep. A few minutes later, Reed shuffled in his sleep, subconsciously getting more comfortable, which resulted in him slipping sideways against Nines' firm shoulder. Nines gently eased him upright again. He didn't want him to get a stiff neck or knotted spine.

At around five forty-five, Nines headed into the kitchen. Pipsqueak followed curiously, winding through his long legs as he stood at the counter. He poured a glass of orange juice that he'd stored in the fridge and began mixing pancake batter. Previously recorded data noted Reed's mood always improved when he ate these thick fluffy discs with syrup and bacon. He tried to keep the noise down as he whisked by hand, which was difficult as metal scraped on metal. Reed remained still as Nines prepared breakfast, alternating between cooking bacon and flipping pancakes.

"Detective Reed...Gavin, wake up. It's time for breakfast." Part of him felt slightly bad as he shook him awake. Reed always had trouble sleeping, and it seemed last night had been one of those rare nights that he'd slept peacefully without nightmares. Reed groaned in protest as he hunched over and rubbed his face, slowly noticing the smell of pancakes and dragging himself over to the breakfast bar. The slim wooden surface was as close to a dining table as he got in the small apartment. Nines tidied as he ate and showered, reappearing sometime later wearing some of his neater clothes. His dark jeans looked new, and the dark top had a slightly higher neckline than usual. He'd tossed a black suit jacket over his arm, knowing he wouldn't need it out in the early August heat.

They stopped at a little café so he could grab a proper coffee that morning. He felt the need for a richer blend to wake him up and prepare for the press conference. Once they reached the precinct, he headed straight for his chair and started writing on a notepad. His vitals spiked as he wrote and read over his notes and it took a while for Nines to realise that he was nervous. He'd never really thought of him as nervous before, perhaps because he was so confident in his day-to-day duties. Detective work was one thing, but standing in front of the cameras talking about it and being judged was quite another.

Connor and Hank had actually arrived before they did. Hank was also a little more dressed up than usual. He'd settled on his darker, streaky shirt with a jacket much like Reed's, something subtle and less bright than usual. Connor, like Nines, had stuck to his old Cyberlife suit. Neither of them had to wear them anymore. In fact, many people would likely prefer it if they didn't. In Nines' case, he simply didn't own anything else. He could probably get something different if he asked, but what? And why? The Cyberlife uniform was convenient. It was durable, waterproof, and dirt resistant. It had also become a part of his identity, which was likely how Connor felt. Nines had actually found it strange meeting Colin. He was an RK800, identical to his brother in every way but for the clothing he wore.