Not a Big Deal
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“Detectives that are injured on duty usually go to the hospital,” the android points out. “At least, that is mandated protocol. Would you like me to–”
“No, Connor. Again, it’s not a big deal.”
Another flash of yellow passes through his LED. Connor, in all his calculated professionalism, looks quite upset.
Not a Big Deal
by fun_fetti
Summary:
“Detectives that are injured on duty usually go to the hospital,” the android points out. “At least, that is mandated protocol. Would you like me to–”
“No, Connor. Again, it’s not a big deal.”
Another flash of yellow passes through his LED. Connor, in all his calculated professionalism, looks quite upset.
Notes:
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(See the end of the work for more notes.)
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Percy doesn’t think it’s a big deal.
The bullet barely grazed him, nicking his torso somewhere between his sixth and seventh rib. That’s one factoid of information that a certain someone hasn’t shut up about. That, and the countless ways (in graphic detail) the damage could be worse. ‘If only you would have stood further left if only you would have chosen a lighter jacket, if only I hadn’t pulled you away in time–’
“Connor,” Percy interrupts, right as the forensic report starts getting out of hand. “I’m okay.”
The android takes the hint and ceases monologuing. The LED at his temple circles a bright, vibrant yellow. It had stayed like that since the Percy was shot.
“Apologies,” Connor says. Mumbles, rather, like he’s suddenly walking on eggshells around this conversation. His hand movement softens up, too, from his position cleaning Percy’s wound. He goes from a calculated, practiced ease to a more hesitant delicacy.
That’s not the change Percy was expecting, but he appreciates the effort regardless.
As a detective at the Detroit Police Department, Percy is used to getting roughed up while on the job. This is far from the first time where he’s gotten shot– and as Percy keeps insisting, it’s not a big deal. If it wasn’t for the sting of an alcohol swab, Percy’s biggest concern would be the pain in his scrapped knees. And his now ruined pair of jeans, which are a waste of some sturdy fabric.
It had all happened so fast.
An anonymous tip had come through the station sometime that morning, detailing the last known location of a case’s suspect. Usually, whatever came through Percy’s desk would stay his responsibility, but the report had mentioned a non-deviant android. Only last year, that fact wouldn’t have turned heads, but things had changed since the November revolution. The New Jericho battle for Android rights is complicated, slow, and messy– but the DPD took androids very seriously, with Connor and Lieutenant Anderson spearheading a newly instated Deviant Department. And with the case branching into Android affairs, Percy’s department required some collaboration.
A brief meeting with Captain Fowler later, and arrangements had been made: Lieutenant Anderson was swamped with paperwork, so that left Percy and Connor to deal with the situation, together.
Which was bound to be the first case the two would share on the field, and the pair was very much excited. Over the past year they’ve known each other, Percy has grown to consider Connor an important part of his life. Much more than a college, a friend. With a goofy smile, quick wit, and a dorky personality. With the anonymous tip pointing them to an abandoned building, Percy was looking forward to a calm, casual recon mission. Just some investigation, logging any evidence to corroborate the suspect’s involvement– and maybe going out to buy a donut or two.
He was, of course, very wrong. Connor had sensed that something was amiss the moment Percy parked his vehicle in front of the building,– something about trace components of something or other on the sidewalk– and, of course, things had gotten progressively worse from there. They had only been inside for five minutes before Percy was startled by some movement on the floor above them. And when he went up the stairs and opened up the door of a bedroom– all hell broke loose.
Part of why Percy had been so excited to be with Connor while out on a case, was to see the deviant in action. When bullets started raining down, and Percy went to fumble for his gun, Connor was already pulling him away and slamming him against a wall. Not exactly a very graceful way to cover, but in the blink of an eye, Percy was shielded, and Connor was already shooting back. He landed one shot, as well, but the perpetrator didn’t stick around to get a second one. He was running, and Percy, now out of the initial shock, began to pursue. Percy took the stairs. Connor leaped through a goddamn window–
All that remains after that is a flurry of adrenaline, and the ecstatic realization of how well they work as a team. Details are fuzzy, but their efforts paid off: Percy blocked the suspect’s escape route, Connor subdued the attacker, and thirty minutes after they had arrived to investigate the tip, they were left with a criminal in handcuffs. That same adrenaline was enough that Percy didn’t even feel the bullet wound until they were back at the station. Connor, on the other hand, seemed to have been itching to dress the wound since the moment Percy got hurt.
It was sweet. Percy appreciated the concern.
“It should heal within a week if you make sure to keep the area covered,” Connor speaks up, once the cotton swab he’s using comes back clean. “I will now dress the wound with some adhesive gauze.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Percy insists with a small, guilty smile. “You’ve done way more than enough, Connor. We usually don’t treat wounds at the precinct, you know?”
“Detectives that are injured on duty usually go to the hospital,” the android points out. “At least, that is mandated protocol. Would you like me to–”
“No, Connor. Again, it’s not a big deal.”
Another flash of yellow passes through his LED. Connor, in all his calculated professionalism, looks quite upset, “Then please, allow me to treat you.”
“Hey, if it’s not a big enough deal for a hospital, then it can just heal up on its own,” Percy waves his hand around as if that will lessen some of the severity of the situation. He doesn’t want to disrespect Connor’s concern, but again, this is not his first rodeo. Detectives often get wounded on the job, and that can be–
Oh.
“Connor,” Percy perks up, staring at his friend. He starts looking it over, cursing over his human inability to properly scan him for wounds. “Are you hurt?”
“Androids don’t feel pain, Detective Rivera.”
“I– fine, status report?”
“All systems operational, all bio components unharmed, I–” he hesitates. Sheepish, he adds, “Gunshot through the torso, non-critical damage to component I-Nine-Seven-Three–”
“Holy shit.” Percy stands with a startle, ignoring the way his open wound groans in protest, “You were shot too? Where?”
“It was a clean shot, exit wound in and out, so there was very little thirium lost,” Connor explains awkwardly, much to Percy’s horror. The graphic details don’t help to lower any alarm bells. “Whatever thirium spilled has dried by now, so my clothing will not be stained. Do not worry, there is no shrapnel lodged in my systems. If that was the case, I would have taken the bullet out by now–”
“Connor, we need to take you to the hospital,” Percy squeaks, and scrambles to get out the door, but is stopped by Connor, who stands in his way.
They’re alone in the breakroom, with most of the people at the station busy just a couple of doors away. Connor had said it was the most private room they could find in this place, and Percy had been inclined to agree. He regrets that now. With the mirrors reflecting their tired expressions, their clothes ruddled by a chase, and their nerves on edge, it’s as if they’re interrogating each other.
And oh God, now that Connor has stood, Percy can see it. The torn spot on his police uniform, where he has been shot. By the way, Connor had been acting, and with the color of the fabric mixing with the thirium, Percy just– hadn’t noticed. The LED is still yellow, damn it. Percy had assumed it was Connor being worried so he hadn’t pried. He should have. He was shot right in his stomach, and he was the one nursing Percy’s wounds–
“I’m fine,” Connor says, hands slightly raised, to show his palms. His expression does look calm, to his credit. More than that; softened along the edges. Trying to help calm Percy’s nerves.
“Is there an android hospital?” The human insists, still in a bit of a panicked state. He tries to get past Connor again, to no avail. “New Jericho, maybe? Can they fix you up? Connor, you were shot–”
“So were you,” Connor interrupts, calmly.
“Yeah, well, mine is just a scratch! Yours is very much not! Oh, shit, were you shot because of me–?”
“No, I was not– Percy, listen, please,” there’s a hand on Percy’s shoulder, soft and warm and nothing like he’d thought an Android’s hand would feel like. But it is strong enough grounding, so Percy stops moving. “Human and android anatomy is completely different. The scale by which wounds are categorized differs as well. When I say I’m fine, I mean it.”
Percy opens his mouth to protest, closes it, and opens it again. He stares at his friend, his warm brown eyes, and tries to find something that will contradict him. Connor does look okay.
“And,” Connor adds, with a voice that has no right sounding that honest, “I can promise you that it was not your fault. I was… careless with my calculations. I was worried about you because I didn’t manage to pull you away in time to prevent damage. It might be ‘just a scratch’ to you, but for me, your wellbeing is very–”
Percy interrupts Connor with a hug, quick and sudden. Percy has never considered himself a very touchy person, but his instinct pulls him toward it. He doubts Connor is a touchy person either– and yet, after a beat to process, he hugs back.
The hug is brief. Percy’s wound does ache, exposed and unbandaged. So he pulls back, makes a face, and finally faces Connor again. This time, relaxes, unwilling to run away.
“Thank you,” Percy says with a sigh. “I can see you care. But I care too, you know? No more getting shot because of me. And no more prioritizing me, either. Sit down, because now I’ll be the one helping you.”
Connor looks lost, very much like it's the first time he’s been in this situation. He looks at his own wound, looks at Percy, and finally blurts out,
“It’s not a big deal?”
Percy laughs. “It is to me.”
“Then your wound is a big deal to me, too.”
Percy laughs, turns on his heels and finally sits back down. Connor soon follows, smiling softly.
“We can take care of each other, how about that?”
For the first time in hours, Connor’s LED pulses a calm, steady blue. “Yes, I would like that.”
Notes:
Bolding and Italics formatting to be added!