Tick Tock Part Three - Dock

No

Gavin groaned pathetically. His whole body felt achy. There was a ball of pain in his chest every time he took a breath. His limbs felt heavy. Too heavy to lift. His head was pounding. His brain felt foggy. He took another shallow breath, wincing with the pressure that put on his sore ribs. This place smelled familiar. He was lying on something firm and springy. It was a bed. A cheap bed. There was a cotton blanket tossed over him, but the smell wasn't clinical. So not a hospital...He knew they weren't at home. Home smelled better. Home had comfortable beds, and Pipsqueak. There was no way Pipsqueak would let him lie there sleeping for however long it had been without curling up on his chest.

"He's waking up." Connor. A gentle hand brushed his temple. It didn't take much to figure out he was in the infirmary. Since Connor had noticed, he had little choice but to force his heavy eyes open. The room was dim, thank God. The last thing he needed was to be blinded on top of everything else. He blinked his blurred eyes a of couple of times, clearing the sleep enough to look around and find Hank sitting in the chair beside him while Connor leaned over the bed. His chest jolted as he realised Nines wasn't there. A hand pressed his sore chest to stop him from bolting upright. "Nines is fine...He's just helping Colin with things right now," Connor assured, sensing his sudden panic.

"You remember what happened?" Hank asked in a gentle, guiding tone. Gavin rubbed his eyes as he sat up and crossed his aching legs. He hunched over, nodding through the almost dizzy fog in his head. Of course, he fucking remembered. He didn't think anyone could ever forget something as fucked up as that. He looked down at his hands in reflex. Nines, or someone else, had cleaned him up. Chloe's thirium had been wiped from his skin. He was almost afraid to ask what happened to her. Had Elijah booted up her replacement already? Or did he have to build it first? He balled his hands and locked his jaw at the thought.

"Due to the circumstances, we're going to have to interview you...when you're ready." Connor winced in apology as his head shot up. Wait, what? He felt sick as he looked between them like this was some sort of sick joke. They were really going to interrogate him? Like he was some sort of criminal? He dropped his green eyes vulnerably. "It's standard procedure, Sergeant," Connor added in his most reassuring tone. Sure, it was protocol, but it didn't make him feel any less dirty. Were they going to cuff him to the table, too? How about a perp-walk? He licked his lips nervously.

"He's right. None of us think you killed her on purpose." Hank's words made his stomach churn. He couldn't help it as he gagged, slapping a hand over his mouth as bile rose in his throat. Connor's LED span red as he scanned his vitals. Gavin couldn't look at him. He knew what he'd seen. Hank grabbed a disposable cardboard basin and shoved it beneath his chin in case he really needed it. He hadn't vomited that time. He'd managed to swallow the burning acid back down again. His skin crawled as Hank's gentle hand rubbed circles on his back. He couldn't help it as he shrugged him off roughly. Phck, don't touch me like that! He didn't deserve to be touched like that. The very thought of it made him recoil.

"Try to drink something," Connor advised softly as he held out a small glass of water. Gavin took it silently, unable to even raise his eyes. He wasn't sure what he'd see on Connor's face after...He chugged the water, unable to shake the nerves thrumming in his chest. He put the glass on the bed when he'd finished. His hands were shaking too badly to hold it. "Just let us know when you're ready." Gavin nodded as Connor removed the class, sitting silently for a while as he tried not to throw up. The room was silent. He wasn't sure whether it was an interrogation technique or if they were honestly just waiting for him. It had been a long time since he'd been on this end of the questioning. He half expected Yates to turn up to put in his two cents. Once a criminal, always a criminal...