Chapter 16: Fever Dream

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"F-fuck winter," Gavin zipped up his heavy woolen coat. "Fuck Detroit," he nuzzled his lower face into his scarf as he scooted closer to his terminal. "I fucking hate this," he coughed into his elbow.

"I told you you'd get sick if you didn't wear your winter jacket yesterday," Richard sighed as he leaned against the detective's desk.

"Yeah, yeah," Gavin waved, "I'm an idiot and you're the smart one," he glanced at the android, "Happy?"

"I'll be happy once you've recovered from your illness," the machine grazed his partner's cheek with a finger.

The brunette's eyes snapped open as he quickly grabbed Richard's hand. "Hey," he whispered, "We're at the station," he stared at the machine with pink cheeks, "Knock that shit off."

RK900 froze for a moment before lowering his lids. "I was only checking if you had a fever," he smirked.

Gavin dragged the corners of his mouth into a defeated frown and let out disgruntled mumbles as he let go of his colleague's hand. He slumped into his seat with a sigh before shaking his head and looking to the ground.

The android pressed a hand against his partner's forehead while scanning the detective's vitals. "What's on your mind?" the machine's eyes drifted from his hand to his colleague's perturbed features.

"I hate the idea of that fucker being loose out there," Gavin pointed to a window that showed a snowy street. "It's been over a month since his last murder," he grit his teeth, "And now Fowler's forcin' us to move on."

Richard let out an elongated sigh, "You're running a high fever, Gavin." He inched closer to the brunette who was deep in his thoughts. "You have the flu. You need to go home and rest," the machine advised in a worried cadence.

The detective turned to face his colleague. "Doesn't it bother you that that stupid son of a bitch is still roaming the streets?" he drew his brows together. "Fuck," he cursed as he placed a hand on his forehead, "I wanted to catch that-"

The detective interrupted himself with a series of wet coughs. He brought both hands to his mouth, his brows arching as his chest ached in pain. "Ugh," the brunette titled back into his chair, "My head," he sniffled.

"Please, let me take you home," RK900 placed a hand on Gavin's shoulder.

"I can't," the detective slowly shook his head, "I promised John I'd see him in an hour," he looked to Richard while rubbing at his eye.

"Have you taken any medicine to ease your symptoms?" the android crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't have any," the shorter of the two murmured.

Richard brought a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched the skin between his brows. "You're telling me you don't have cough syrup at home?" he glanced at his light-headed partner.

Gavin shook his head before heaving forward and almost hacking up a lung.

"You need to cancel with John. I'm taking you home and buying you a year's supply of medication," the android straightened up, adjusting his uniform.

"I'm fine," the brunette placed a hand on his knee as he took a minute to compose himself. "I can't postpone this. It'll be the third time I'm blowin' him off," he rubbed at his chest.

Just then, the detective's phone buzzed. "See?" he glanced at the android, "This's probably him right now reminding me of our meet up," he reached into his pant pocket. The brunette pulled out his phone and tapped on the lockscreen. His eyes rounded as he was greeted by several texts from Travis. "Damn it," Gavin muted his phone and shoved it back in his pocket.

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