The whole drive to the locker, Nick was speeding. Ever since he had gotten home, Hank had let him borrow his car. He won't say it, especially since the two aren't close still, but he wants to be there for Nick. He knows Nick doesn't have his parents anymore, especially since he chose Christen and I over them.
I remember when Nick flipped the photo of them on his table. He still won't tell me what happened, but I know it has to deal with us and the revolution.
Nick's nervous. Shaky. Barely stopping because he seems to forget to brake. He's clearly being driven by his nerves, and I don't blame him. This is him on the line. I momentarily forget that the media chose to attack him and not me...and how lucky that makes me. Among all of the chaos in my life, I was somehow spared the attacks, and Nick was taken hostage instead.
We pulled up to the evidence locker, only to see the area surrounded by police. Nick pulled up to the very front of the line and pulled himself out of his window.
"What the hell is going on?" He called.
"Who the hell are you?" A uniformed officer asked, walking up to the car. We are dressed like civilians after all.
Nick reaches into his pocket, and pulled out his badge. He stuck himself back out the window.
"Officer Nick Lance," he said. "And Charlotte Anderson."
"Yeah. Closed crime scene bud. Especially to people like you."
"People like me?" Nick questioned. He sat down, and turned off the car.
"Nick, don't..." I began, but he had already jumped out before I could finish.
"Listen here, bub," Nick started.
"Bub? Who you calling bub?" The officer answered, standing his ground.
"Oh sorry, darling. Listen here, sweets. I've arrested more sick fucks than you ever have. So really, they shouldn't be letting people like you in."
"Closed crime scene means 39th precinct only."
I started to get out of the car, because I could see it on Nick's face. He wasn't giving up this easily.
"I'm in all the fucking precincts."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" The officer answered throwing up his hands.
"It means fuck you, let me in," Nick answered.
Not his most clever moment.
"Alright, alright," I said, finally stepping in. "My partner and I are just interested in getting into the evidence locker."
"Yeah, well no one is entering that fucking building until this crime scene is cleared. And it certainly won't be any Android cops," the officer answered.
"Excuse me? She has a name," Nick sneered. He's out of control.
"Oh what is it? Mark 39? Fucking prototype?"
"Nick, don't!" I called, but before I could, Nick had reeled back his arm and landed a sucker punch right on the cops jaw.
"Assaulting an officer!" The uniformed cop called. Suddenly, more officers from the crime scene began to surround Nick.
"Oh, shut up, motherfucker! I am a cop!"
"I didn't see a fucking badge!" The cop yelled.
"Yes, you fucking did!" Nick shouted. One of the cops began to grab Nick's shoulder, and I knew he was getting arrested. As more cops surrounded Nick, I stepped back behind the chaos.
I don't think Nick meant for this to happen quite like this, but I stole the opportunity to sneak into the side door of the building.
I found my way into the elevator before anyone even turned their backs. Sorry, Nick. I'll get you out from the 39th later.