DETROIT: Become Human [one-shots]

#61 | ... Here. P.2 ✿ Gavin Reed x Fem!Reader

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Title: "... Here."

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Female Reader

Warnings: mention of missing limbs, sad Gavin :(

Note: I have ideas for a Hank one-shot and a Connor one. Please, please, please, comment which one you wish to see first! 💙

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White.

Everything was white. The walls. The ceiling. The floor. The bed sheets. The curtains to the sides, caging the bed in between. The lonely chair to the left of the bed. The bandages neatly wrapped around her arm... or what was left of it.

Gavin felt sick to his stomach, and yet it wouldn't be the monotonous white hues that made him cringe internally. It'd be the sight of his best friend, his partner—seeing her lying on that bed with all sorts of medical appendages stuck to her; with an active heart monitor setting a torturous rhythm of a beep per second; with bandages wrapped around her limbs, the one he could see and not in its totality had almost sent him into an anger fit. He'd felt ready to start smashing everything on sight, the moment he'd walked in, guided by an android nurse. Instead, he took a deep, and shaky breath, then sat down on the lonely white chair.

His eyes hadn't left her left arm ever since. The bandages did a magnificent job at accentuating the missing part of it; right below the elbow, an empty space remained. His grey eyes stared at the concealed stump, unwavering. After a minute, he darted his attention to her legs—he had to swallow thickly the moment he realized, the white sheet covering them remained completely flat on one side, around half way down the shin.

Gavin shook his head violently. [N] had taught him not to get lost in his thoughts, especially if those thoughts were bad, and that was exactly what he did. He scooted the chair closer to the bed, just so he could slump over the edge of it, almost on top of her sleeping form whilst grasping tightly her one hand—he closed his eyes tightly before burying his face into the white sheets, wetting them slightly with silent tears.

Not a sound left him.

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The first week without her at the station had gone quiet.

Everyone seemed to share the same melancholic feeling after knowing what had happened to their fellow detective. Captain Fowler had gathered all superior officers to his private office on the first day, where he then explained the situation; Detective [L/N], along with the new android model RK900 had been assigned a stake out mission to locate a red ice dealer. The mission had started off nice and quiet—Fowler's words—until one of the buyers had recognized the detective as he had approached the area; he alerted the whole group of cookers in the apartment with a simple call from a burner phone.