Chapter Text
“Is this why you wanted to leave so urgently tonight?”
“We need two hours to ourselves where we can feel normal, like the world ain’t gone to complete and total shit.”
Driving to Ohio had gone without a hitch… mostly. The person who’d had the vehicle before them hadn’t been a good samaritan, and about two hours into the drive, a bright red ‘e’ started flashing across the dash. They’d reached the portion of the trip that had them driving down one lane roads and weaving through villages with a population of seventy five. Meaning, when you’re that deep in the country, it gets damn dark with a lack of office buildings to pollute the night.
They’d turned onto a backroad as Gavin tried his best to navigate their way out of bumfuck nowhere with zero bars. Instead of keeping his eyes plastered on the dirt road ahead of them (like a good little robot should have), Nines was pawing for his phone. A deer darted out in front of the car and he nearly threw them into a ditch, tires skidding like they’d hit an oil slick.
Thank fucking Christ, forking over thousands to fix a totalled rental might’ve been the thing to land Gavin in an early grave.
“Well, this is the last time I ever let you fucking drive.”
Warm Christmas lights nestled on an abundance of neatly aligned trees surrounded them and carols that sounded more like advertisements to remind you of the dwindling time you had left to buy gifts were blaring from overhead speakers. They were absorbed in the mixture of a growing crowd of families with their boisterous children, and teenagers that didn’t understand the meaning of volume control.
This wasn’t the hotel, obviously– he’d booked them a room at a Red Roof, the cheapest in the area that wouldn’t get them shanked in their sleep, and simultaneously wouldn’t create a roadtrip in itself in the morning. He’d talked Nines into making one final pit stop. They both knew tomorrow was going to be another long ass day; hell, today, again, dragged on for what felt like an eternity. They needed a distraction that wasn’t another stuffy room and trashy reality shows.
“What exactly is this that you are dragging me to?”
“It’s like,” he rubbed his hands together and blew on them. He was more bundled up than he was earlier, expecting the temperatures to drastically drop. But this wind was brutal. “It’s an amusement park, like Six Flags. You’ve got Google on speed dial, look it up.”
Nines was wearing his extra North Face puffer, the one he got as a birthday gift from his aunt despite her knowing how much he hated the color chartreuse. It wasn’t as bad as baby diarrhea green, but it matched exactly zero things in his mostly monochrome wardrobe. Not that it suited Nines either, but this was leagues better than donning only a thin sweater. The bluntest way to announce to the general public that you’re not like the rest of them.
“You cannot stand up straight because of how much your wounds are hurting you, and you have taken us somewhere to… ride rollercoasters?”
“Nah, wanted to come here ‘cause,” he pivoted on his heels, nodding at the fresh wreaths and candy cane decor. “It’s your first Christmas, yeah?”
“First time being allowed the option to celebrate. The lights are pretty.”
“Just wait ‘til we get inside.” He pulled his wallet and phone from his pockets. As he started to make his way towards bag check (picking any line he could without a stroller), Nines steadied him in place, making him stumble over himself. “What?”
“Is it safe for me to be here?” Nines hushed into his ear, too close like he seemingly always fucking was. Didn’t know how to respect personal space– ‘don’t touch me’, hypocrite. “I don’t know how people in this particular state feel about… us. Especially in our current political climate, everyone is on edge.”
“I wouldn’t’ve brought up coming here if I thought you were gonna get jumped. Security’s banned people for a lot less than harassment– outside of here, I ‘unno. It’s Ohio, this place’s a fucking shithole.”
“I’m–” he exhaled quickly, “I know when my led is covered, to the untrained eye, I blend in. But at the same time, I feel like everyone that walks past us is looking at me.”
“Nines,” Gavin’s lips formed into a thin line. “They’re not looking at you because they think you’re an android.” He let a half chuckle escape. “Trust me.”
“Why am I being stared at like I am a costumed character, then?”
“Do I really gotta spell it out for you? Know the world’s a shiny, new place to you, but you ain’t that dense.” He clicked his tongue. “C’mon, it’s gonna be fine.”
“What about the metal detectors?”
“They run ‘em kinda differently here, don’t segregate flesh from plastic ‘cause of all the nannies coming here solo. Imagine the outcry when little two year old Jimmy is forced to separate from the droid he’s more attached to than his own mother.”
“But, what if we do get separated?”
“Dude.” He gave Nines a hearty nudge forward, cutting off a group taking an ill-timed selfie. “We won’t. They won’t trigger some kind of siren that announces that you’re an android, just alert security discreetly. I’ve seen it happen before; they’ve got the same setup at the airport now.”
Gavin dropped his belongings in a small plastic bin, walking through the scanners without pause. They repeated the process for Nines, the only difference being a temperature gauge– well, so he thought.
A younger man with glasses too large for his face reached into a zipper pouch he wore on his hip, pulling out a bright yellow strip of vinyl. This kid had to have still been in high school, probably working his first job for pocket change to blow on video games and other useless crap. Ah, those were the days– though, Gavin did not fucking miss working minimum wage odd jobs and coming home with grease burns.
He pieced it together around Nines’ wrist and then nodded at them. “You’re both good,” the words crackled as they left his throat. “Enjoy your night.”
“What’d they give you?”
The wristband read ‘android’ in bold, black letters. It was the same material as the kind you’d get from festivals; waterproof and difficult to tear off with your bare hands, not the shitty paper ones that'd disintegrate not even from showers, but your own sweat.
“A form of discreet alienation.”
He glanced over his shoulder and pulled out his keyclip. “Nah, fuck that. Stand still.”
“Gavin, stop," Nines made a half-assed attempt to move out of reach, if you could call it that. He wasn't exactly fighting him, more so feigning annoyance. "They are going to see you.”
“We don’t go in if someone tries to stop me. Not having them mark you like that.”
He lodged his house key through one of the holes and kept twisting it until the paint rubbed off, watching the plastic distort. He curled his finger underneath the small loop that held it together and tugged, waiting to hear a very faint pop.
Gavin veered over to a trash can and nonchalantly tossed it away. “See? What did I say? Everything’s… fine.”
“It feels like a crime against nature when you tell the truth.”
“S’fucking crime when you keep running your damn mouth.”
They walked through the main ticket gates and it felt like they’d stepped into a wormhole, being transported far away from Ohio (thank God). A replica of the Eiffel Tower (also donning its own costume of a Christmas tree) stood front and center of a plaza made to look like a European village. The stylized tan and brown storefronts were dressed to look more like gingerbread houses, fake snow sprayed into their display windows.
Everything was astigmatism hell, like a green and red flashbang– didn’t mean the scenery wasn’t a sight to behold, because it was beautiful, there was no denying that. Gavin couldn’t help but wonder how many tens of thousands they had to shell out for their nightly electricity bill.
Artisan booths were set up in a similar style to a comic con’s artist alley, people selling their handmade candles and glass-blown sculptures of miniature poodles. The last thing he’d laid his eyes on was a couple that had a death grip on each other as they tried not to wipe out on the massive fountain that had been converted into an ice rink. In another dimension, that could’ve been them– he tried to push that stupid fucking thought away.
“Oh, fuck, this is… incredibly overstimulating.”
Gavin snorted. “I know it is. We can go at your pace, not like I haven’t been here before.”
“Is this how you typically spend your weekends, Reed?”
“Tina and I made the trip down here a handful of times the year we moved to Detroit. We came in the summer, but it's still just as overwhelming. Jackass, thinking you're so funny.” He opened up his camera app. “Turn around, wanna get a photo of us before I forget.”
“You want to memorialize spending time with me?”
“For posterity’s sake.”
Nines smiled, and he could tell that it was a genuine one, a happy reaction straight from the heart because of how toothy it was. How the corners of his eyes crinkled, and his typically tensed shoulders… relaxed. This really was an early Christmas miracle. “You better send that to me.”
“Why, so you can print it out and put it in your wallet?”
“I am going to do that now to spite you.”
Gavin rolled his eyes. “Don’t care if you did.”
They gravitated in the direction of a merchandise store that was connected to a confectionery, the scent of homemade fudge strong enough to give you a damn sugar rush. There were strands of construction paper garland hanging from the sloped ceilings, ornaments displayed on every other end cap.
“Eli always liked these kinda places. S’where that photo on his desk is from, a Six Flags back in Boston.”
“Boston?”
“Yeah. That’s where we grew up.” Gavin scratched at the side of his neck. “Know you’ve been dying to know that.”
“That would explain the accent.”
“You saying I got an accent?”
“You do.” He saw Nines fidgeting with his beanie out of the corner of his eye as a gaggle of people in matching shirts wiggled past them. “Why did you move to Michigan? Because of Fowler?”
“No.” Gavin picked up a miniature model kit of a rollercoaster, flipping over the box to mouth the stats to himself.
“Is that where the story ends?”
“No,” he glowered at him. “I thought if my brother and I weren’t seven hundred miles apart anymore, our friendship could go back to the way it was before he got rich and famous. Stupid as fuck on my part, like he’d wanna spend the weekends at my crummy place playing Mario Kart when he was being invited to galas in Dubai.”
He licked across his front teeth and hung the nanocoaster back on the wall, going over to a selection of Snoopy plushies. “In the end, it kinda came down to wanting to get the fuck out of my parent’s place. Boston wasn’t home for me.”
“I take it that you would not want to move back there?”
“Hell no. Even after,” he swallowed hard, “dad goes, I don’t miss it there. You think my temper’s bad? There’s good reason the term ‘Massholes’ was coined.”
“Gavin, may I ask you something… sensitive?”
“Already know what it is, you ain’t subtle about it.” Gavin bit his lower lip. Nines’ gaze on him felt downright suffocating. “I don’t know how long he’s got left, ma won’t tell me.”
“Are you planning to visit him?”
“Another question I don't know the answer to.” He grabbed a Woodstock that was wearing a tye dye hoodie with Kings Island embroidered on it. “You need this for when you get your own place.”
“Do I?”
“Part of being human is hoarding a bunch of overpriced garbage to symbolize you went out and did shit with your life.”
“In that case,” he took the plush from him before Gavin snatched it back, shaking his head.
“My Christmas gift to you.”
“No. You already paid for my ticket, which is more than enough.”
“I’m sorry, which of us actually has money? How much do you got left over from Elijah, again?”
“Enough to buy the damn stuffed animal.” Nines’ nostrils flared. “I thought you were broke yourself.”
“Goddamn, someone’s getting an attitude.” He tucked it between his side and crook of his elbow so Nines couldn’t wedge it free. “It’s fine. I’ll find something you can buy for me later so we’re even.”
“So, thoughts? You like it so far, or has this been low grade torture?”
They had found a wooden bench to take up residence on for the time being, in an enclosed garden away from the bustling crowds. The pathways were illuminated by, what had to have been, a hundred thousand twinkling blue bulbs. It wasn’t quiet– it was hard to focus on anything other than an energetic, upbeat melody from an organ – however, he could hear Nines now without having to scream until his throat bled.
He was slouching, absentmindedly swirling around soda in a paper cup. This had been too much walking for him, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
“I can see the appeal."
He watched a father help his two children onto regal looking horses on an old fashioned carousel (he could see Nines was also watching them); it made him reminisce on the time his own family went to San Diego and they’d convinced his mom to ride on one. A swing set was too much excitement for her– she’d gotten motion sick and Gavin heard nothing but guilt-tripping statements like ‘I haven’t been able to keep down a meal since we went on that ride’ for the rest of the day.
“It makes sense why your brother would enjoy coming to these places with you. Adrenaline does make for a good bonding tool.”
Gavin shook his head. “Think Elijah used it more as an excuse to spend the day away from home instead of a means of... bonding.”
“Gavin.” That look of concern he so often wore made him sick to his fucking stomach. “That is not food.”
“Not hungry,” he winced as the carbonation touched his tongue. “Had two egg sandwiches this morning, so ‘m fine.”
“You are, though. I heard your stomach growling twenty minutes ago.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking weirdo. You keep track of all my bodily functions?”
“Not all.”
His brows creeped closer to his hairline. “The way you said that don’t make you sound any less creepy.”
Nines steadily exhaled. “I know that in your own mind, you see yourself as invincible. But you can only run on empty for so long; all this caffeine and chemicals with the nutritional value of a rock. It’s going to catch up to you.”
“I don’t do it on purpose, alright. Been like this since I was a kid.” Gavin set the drink down next to his hip, pushing his hands in his pockets. “I have a hard time getting food down when I’m stressed beyond my limits. You don't get it— fucking lucky all you gotta do to survive is suck on a lil pouch.”
“Was," Nines cocked his head, "this brought on by me?”
“It’s everything.” He quickly glanced at him. “The shit I’ve been sharing with you, I haven’t thought about in literal years. Didn’t realize how fucking much I missed talking with Tina, how much I miss my headass brother, until today. And, uh, I think there’s only so much loneliness a person can cope with.”
“You do know,” Nines simulated clearing his throat, “that you are not entirely alone, yes?”
“I,” his lips parted, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m very aware that you’ve been my company for the past few—”
“We have not had a day apart from each other for the past sixteen days.”
“Yeah, again, well aware.”
The vibration from his phone buzzing traveled throughout his jacket. Nine times out of ten, it was an alert for some bullshit email (a promo for a website he did not remember subscribing to). That small chance of there being a text from his mom had his fingers itching, but– he didn’t want to look at that, either.
“Gavin?”
“You’re gonna wear out my name with how often you say it, God. What, Nines?”
His hands were folded across his lap, his thumbs stroking against each other. “When you said you were sorry, was that a low effort attempt to get me to shut up? Or, did you actually mean it?”
Gavin pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Been long overdue,” he exhaled, his palms growing clammy. “I meant it. But, don’t expect me to say it again.”
“I need to learn how to cage my wrath myself. That primal instinct of wanting to inflict pain was all I could think about with— James, was it?”
Gavin nodded. “The douchebag deserves a sprained wrist.”
“That isn’t my point. I need to not find comfort in bringing out fear in others. I am also sor–”
“Nuh-uh, Don't say it. I do not fucking deserve apologies. We agreed we weren't gonna, anyways. I just... it slipped out.”
“But, I am sorry. I want you to know that.” Nines shifted his weight, pivoting himself to face Gavin more directly. “I know that it hasn't been a full forty eight hours yet, but I am finding myself to trust you.”
Someone uncorked a jar of hasty butterflies, fuck, there was that gnawing feeling again in the pit of his stomach that he did not want to process. Longing for less hemming and hawing between them and more of– this. He did not like the way that his heart fluttered.
He knocked his knee against Nines’ (he didn’t tense this time). “I am, uh– I’m kinda glad I’ve given you a chance.”
“To think you could have missed out on all of this,” Nines gestured at himself– did he just fucking wink?
“I only said kinda, jackass. You're more cocky than even I am, Christ.”
He pushed himself to stand, throwing away the cup. He nodded at the carousel. “It’d be criminal to come here and not get on any rides. It’s not anything crazy.”
“Can you? Or are you going to bleed out all over a poor, innocent horse?”
He scratched his chin. “Maybe we should sit on the bench seat, just to be safe.”
It was an hour and a half before park closing, and with only a handful of rides open (that could operate in the freezing temperatures), everything had a semi-decent line. Luckily with something like this, they only had to wait for the next rotation and everyone to take their sweet ass time disembarking.
“What was your favorite ride to go on with Tina?”
“I don’t think you wanna know.”
Nines lowered his brows. “Why?”
They stepped on the wooden platform and Nines trailed closely behind as Gavin led them to their spot. “I’ll show you after this, but you’re gonna regret asking.”
He wanted to chalk up his accelerating heartbeat to be because of the deafening xylophones and bass drums, but he knew it was Nines’ childlike wonder. How he was craning his neck to examine himself in the mirror adjacent to them, squinting at the game booths on the midway that boasted giant Santas as their grand prizes.
Gavin acted like it didn’t bother him to spend the holidays alone, but year after year, it weighed on him. His parents had always made a big deal about inviting over the extended family for gift exchanges; it was the one day he could hold a conversation with his father that lasted more than ten minutes, when he could find him without a brown bottle in clutch.
Cherished memories of Elijah driving them to a highschool a quarter before midnight so no one else was there, sledding down the freshly snowed upon hills. They once crashed into a tree and Gavin got the worst bloody nose of his life, but it was funny to reminisce on now.
A couple times he’d gone to watch the elaborate tree lighting ceremony downtown, and it wasn’t like he felt shame going to events solo. It was the self pity that came once he found himself back in his dark apartment with a half empty bottle of vodka. He missed doing festive stuff like this and having someone to enjoy it with.
Nines jumped as the ride began to move, and he had to swallow down his laughter, because he wasn’t laughing at him.
“You sweet, summer child.”
He hadn’t felt himself smile like this in… he couldn’t remember.
“Dear God, what is that?”
Ominously looming in the distance was a coaster illuminated by bright neon teal lights (again, why was the future synonymous with gluing leds on fucking everything). It stood nearly three hundred feet tall, looking like it was being swallowed up by clouds. See, Gavin only knew the exact height because Tina had tricked him the first time they rode it.
He was under the assumption that the endless sets of stairs they were climbing took them to a completely different, much more family friendly wooden coaster. He wasn’t sure how he confused the two rides, but Tina didn’t correct him either. It was only as they were inching up the massive lift hill that Gavin put two and two together, the trees below them fading to linear shadows.
“...how tall did you say this was, again?”
“How tall do you think it is?”
“Tina, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but that first drop had him seeing God.
“Tina and I’s favorite ride. I absolutely hated it at first– the adrenaline you feel is something else.”
“You are right. I’m actually horrified.”
“You don’t got a fear of heights, do you?”
“Logically, I know the statistics of dying on a rollercoaster are, exactly, one in one hundred and seventy million. We are more likely to get injured driving back home. However… I am learning that logic and fear seldom interact.”
“Aren’t human emotions a bucket of fun?”
“We are not going on that, are we?”
“It’s closed for the season, so, no. Also think I’d die trying to ride that in my condition. But–”
Nines’ face contorted. “I don’t like that but.”
“There’s one open, if you want to try it. Threw my first aid kit in my bag and downed a bottle of ibuprofen solely for this reason. Might’ve lied a lil when I said no coasters.”
“I am growing tired of having to sew you back together.”
“Yeah, yeah, ditto. It’ll be the last time, promise. Whatever you want to do after this, we’ll do it, if we have time.”
Nines sucked in his cheeks. “I’m only doing this for you.”
“You’ll like it.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“Mm, you will.”
Passing through the western themed section of the park (the switch from hymns about snowy nights to bluegrass covers of Taylor Swift was fucking jarring), he stopped at a kiosk that served every variation of potato known to man. Tater tots, french fries, baked potatoes, mashed– this was going to be his next grounding technique, naming different ways to prepare a single ingredient.
He’d ordered a basket of fries with ranch and bacon slathered all over them. The only positive of the queue being packed, so he’d have enough time to finish them and not have to resort to tossing out his overpriced meal (twelve fucking dollars for this).
“And I’m only doing this for you.”
“You are doing both of us a favor. Carrying your unconscious body out of here and navigating how to get back to the car myself would be cruel and unusual punishment.”
Gavin rolled his eyes so far back that he swore he saw his brain. “Not gonna faint, never have.”
This coaster was nothing like the previous nightmare he exposed Nines to; it was much shorter and built from wood instead of elevated steel. That didn’t ease his hesitation though, because as they walked towards the lumberyard themed queue, a train roared by on the tracks (literally, it rumbled the concrete under them). It was damn fast, the support beams swayed under the weight of the car, and everyone’s screams sounded like those of someone being chased by a serial killer.
Maybe this was their own fucked up, demented version of a trust fall. He had to trust Gavin that a) he wasn’t going to come off the ride flopping around like a boneless fish, and b) Nines was going to come off the ride period.
“Do you have plans for Christmas day?”
“Haven’t really celebrated the holiday in a couple years now,” he leaned up against a metal railing. “I mean, I acknowledge it and all, send my mom her yearly text. But I don’t see the point in putting up a tree and all that shit alone.”
“Okay,” Nines said with a shake of his head, “I think I can clear my very busy schedule for you.”
“Did you just invite yourself over, you asshole? Better yet, corral me into celebrating the damn day.”
“I don’t want to spend that day alone, so–”
“So we gotta spend it together ‘cause we both got no one else.”
“You catch on so fast.”
“We’re not gonna decorate, though. Can't do ornaments or knickknacks without Bailey thinking she's in a kitty play place. Don't wanna do any of that stocking bullshit.”
“Can I get you a gift, or is that, too, forbidden?”
“One gift s’the limit.”
“Two. One for you, one for Bailey.”
“One. Anything over that and you’re gonna watch me unleash hell.”
“Oh,” his lips formed a perfect ‘o’ as his brows furrowed. “I'm so scared.”
“...anyways. God.” Gavin scoffed, poking around at the pile of fried, artery clogging goodness with a fork. “I got a question for you now, something that’s been killing me to ask.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“What did you ever do with your jacket? Wore it day in and day out without making a peep, and then you start showing up with ill fitting sweaters.” He shuddered thinking about those damn gaudy dogs.
“The one that branded me, you mean?”
Gavin nodded. “Uh huh. Thing was brighter than a fucking lighthouse– not complaining that you did get rid of it, ‘cause I was not a fan.”
“Connor burned it– I think. I am actually not sure if he followed through with his promises. But, out of mind, out of sight.”
He felt his nose crinkle. "It's out of sight, out of mind. You got it backwards."
"That is what you focused on?"
Gavin loosely waved his free hand at him. “Deserved. It was outstandingly atrocious.”
“From my understanding, the wholesale price for those uniforms starts at a little under a grand.”
“Deadass?" Nines' forehead creased at that. "If I could drop a thousand dollars on clothing– that I ain't even gonna be wearing myself– my life would be set.” He took another quick bite. “We really gotta take you clothes shopping. That ain't your color.”
“No? What do you think my color is?”
“Something darker, for sure. S’only thing Eli didn't screw up on– black and white suit you. Really brings out the blue in your eyes.”
“It seems that you have put a lot of thought into this. Do you daydream about me often?"
“No. Just stating a fact.” Nines was chuckling under his breath. “God, shut the hell up. Biggest fucking pain in my ass, seriously.”
“I believe New Jericho is organizing a clothing drive for the relative future. That would be my chance to have something I can call my own.”
”Do you need a ride there?”
“It is being held at their new location. As in–”
“The place they wouldn't let me be within a thousand feet of even if I found a way to redeem myself tenfold. Got it.”
“Well, we do not know that for sure.”
He scoffed. “Yes we do know that for sure. Pretty sure they've got wanted posters with my face on them.”
“We will play it by ear. Hm?”
“I guess there's that option– less serious question. Though, well, maybe it's a little serious.” He leaned in closer to lower his voice, because he knew how weird this would sound if a stranger overheard them. “Is my brother technically considered your father? I mean, he made you.”
“Holy shit.” Air caught in his throat and Nines had to hit his chest hard enough to make himself cough. “I suppose If you want to look at it that way. He is the father to all of us, RK models and otherwise.”
“Manwhore,” he tsked, “and to think he could still afford child support for, I don’t know how many units Cyberlife sold. Gonna take a ballpark estimate and say a hundred mill?”
“You’re close. Before the revolution, the reported number of active androids was around a hundred and twenty million. Give or take an additional hundred thousand for deceased and outdated models.”
“How many are left now?”
Nines glanced at something behind him. “We do not know those statistics yet, and I am content with not knowing.”
The line was steadily moving, Gavin doing his best to make a dent in his dish. He wasn’t fond of his habit of waiting to eat until his body was trembling from low blood sugar, but anxiety and a full stomach didn’t mix.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’ll brace myself,” Gavin pointed at him with the fork. “I think you’re just pissing your pants.”
“I am nervous.”
“This’ll make for a great story in the future, keep telling yourself that.”
A ride attendant leaned over the platform and yelled down to everyone standing on the stairs: “Are there any parties of two?”
“Oh, shit,” Gavin looked at Nines with a smirk, raising his arm despite the instant shiver his body responded with. “Over here.”
They were pulled past the turnstile, Gavin finishing off the last few fries and tossing the cardboard basket away.
Gavin sidestepped over the seats and buckled himself in, leaning over to do the same for Nines the minute he sat down. They were graced with a middle seat; if they’d sat in the front, there was no chance in hell Gavin was coming off the ride on anything but a stretcher.
“You’re gonna want to take off your hat. I can hold it if you don’t trust yourself to not lose it.”
“Can I wait until we start moving, so I’m not getting glared at? I haven’t seen a single android in this whole park.”
“You don’t know if they’re doing the exact same thing as you. Could've yanked off their bands, too. They didn't exactly make it a challenge.”
“That is true.”
“I’m telling you, fuck what anyone else thinks. You’re allowed to be here as much as anyone else, y'know.”
There was a loud jolt as everyone’s lap bars locked in place, the ride attendants zooming by to give each seat one final once over. They were given a resounding ‘all clear’ and the train violently made its way up the initial lift hill. That’s when Nines pulled off the beanie, handing it to Gavin. He tucked it inside his jacket, smushing it between the lap bar and his stomach.
Each bump from the chain lift made his spine feel like it was being electrocuted, and he definitely felt instant regret. Though, his dread was nothing compared to the twelve stages of grief Nines was going through, looking like he’d just sucked on a lemon.
“Nines,” he bit his lip, “breathe.”
He opened a single eye to look at Gavin, his hands turning white from how hard he was gripping at the metal bar between his legs.
“Nothing bad’s gonna happen. You won’t fall out, you’re not gonna die.”
“I don’t believe you.”
”Do you need to hold onto me like the big baby that you are?”
Nines immediately switched to wrapping his arms around Gavin’s bicep. It was like an anaconda was trying to squeeze the life out of him— he was going to be purple after this, he could already feel the bruise forming.
Gavin couldn’t believe the sounds that came out of him, the scream of pure terror that Nines released. It was like something you’d hear in a low budget slasher. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, Gavin was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes and an ice tundra for a mouth because he couldn’t keep it closed.
His grip on Gavin only grew tighter, but it was a distraction from the pain literally everywhere else. One arm around his bicep and the other had started on his knee, but with each helix and bunny hill, it was growing further up his thigh in an attempt to steady himself.
The ride came to a halt almost as fast as it had begun to move, Gavin fishing for the beanie through blurred vision and agonizing muscle aches.
“Stop fucking laughing at me, Gavin.”
“I didn’t expect you to react like that.”
It took Nines a few moments to realize that Gavin was holding the hat out for him. He let go of his arm, putting it back on. “I didn’t think it would be like… that.”
“Well, you did it. We both survived.” Gavin poked at him playfully. “Wanna go on it again?”
“If you weren't so injured, I would say yes.”
“God,” Gavin snorted. “Think you might’ve broken my arm, too.”
“You were the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.”
“That wasn’t you losing it?”
They pulled into the final break run that was themed like a dilapidated lumberjack’s shed, eighties music crackling over the roar of a fan. Nines looked more put together, as in, he was sitting up straight and he couldn’t see the entirety of his scleras anymore. Until a projected CGI snake spat at them, the lap bar being the only thing that kept Nines from flying into the ceiling from how hard he’d jumped.
Gavin was fiddling with a pair of plastic rental skates, the same kind that cut into your ankles and feel like they’d snap them in half if you tripped. The velcro never stayed shut on these damn things– he didn’t want to think about the civilization of bacteria that nestled inside the inner fabric lining –but, this is what they had to work with.
They’d managed to make the last available skating session of the night, with thirty minutes to spare until they were kicked out. Rather, ushered towards the shops that held their employees hostage on the principle cranky parents would give in and buy the astronomically priced bubble wand their goblins had been talking about all day.
This is what Nines insisted on doing and scurried off to pay before Gavin could give him a concrete answer– Gavin had been striding towards the lockers by the exit, wanting to free Woodstock from his prison. He wouldn’t have said no, but now it was his turn to feel trepidation and make a fool of himself (which, he was great at doing that).
“Don’t think I’ve gone skating since I was like,” he shrugged with a single shoulder, “thirteen? Been a long ass time.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that you are going to repeatedly fall and need to use me as stabilization, resulting in both of us getting injured.”
A visible cloud of air left his mouth. “You’ve never done this before, don’t think I’m gonna be the one busting my ass.”
“One of us was built with perfect equilibrium,” he met his eyes, “emphasis on built.”
Gavin carefully stood, his arms extended to keep himself from wobbling. “I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”
Famous last words. It didn’t. The second he stepped on the ice, he lost his footing and tumbled like a baby deer learning to walk. Everyone else on the rink, all ten of them, whipped their heads in his direction to drink in his suffering. Guess this wasn’t the same as riding a bike.
He shimmied over to the side wall, mentally claiming this as his spot for the rest of the night. Nines was grinning ear to ear, moving in tandem next to him with complete and utter ease.
“Give me your hands.”
“No,” he tried to wave him away, give him the bird, move his grip away from the concrete that was scraping his skin, but his trepidation was paralyzing. “Piss off, I’ll figure this out myself. I’m not a child.”
His chest heaved as he mentally counted to three, waddling forward enough that he attempted to push himself more to the center– it was like he had chopsticks taped to his legs, or it was his first fucking day on earth.
“There’s toddlers showboating.”
Before he could smack his head on the ground and bleed out for everyone to see, Nines laced their fingers together so their palms rested flat. The prophecy from earlier had come true. “Do I need to say I told you so?”
“I’ll take this skate off and beat myself to death with the dull blade if you do.”
“Gavin goes a single day without being overly dramatic challenge, level impossible.”
“What are you doing,” it wasn’t a question, but more of a plea for him to stop. He was pulling them to the center now that Gavin was gliding like the rink was made of butter.
“I am not going to let go of you and leave you stranded. That would be messed up.”
“Wish you would, I don’t want to hold your grubby little hands.”
“Oh, alright–”
“–wait, Nines–”
He released their fingers and skated far enough back that he was out of Gavin’s immediate reach, his arms falling in army fashion at his sides. “You wanted to figure it out yourself so badly. Go on, go for it.”
“Dipshit, don’t do this.” Gavin attempted to shift his body weight so he was leaning forward, putting too much faith in gravity. He didn’t move much, focusing on how much his knees felt like jello instead. “It’s not funny.”
Nines rolled his eyes, taking hold of Gavin’s elbow. He dug his nails into Nines’ jacket with a damn death grip. “Just don’t want people getting the wrong idea, thinking we’re a couple or some shit.”
“Because that would be the end of the world if they did. Why do you now care about what others think?”
Sweat was beading down the nape of his neck. “‘cause we’re doing something considered romantic by most, and you’re holding my fucking hands–”
“It was not a romantic gesture, it was me preventing you from getting a concussion because we are here to work, after all.”
“Yes, I know that,” he sucked in his cheeks, “but the people looking at us don't.”
“We are never going to see these people after tonight.”
“I understand that, but to me, that don’t mean shit.”
“Is this because I addressed you as my boyfriend in front of your ex?”
“Kinda sorta. I understand you were just trying to piss him off, completely get that ‘cause I would’ve done the same shit if the roles were reversed. But I don’t want that, the trauma dumping, the long car rides, my couch– this –to put the wrong idea in your head that we’re anything more than work friends. Okay? What we were talking about earlier… wasn’t trying to make it sound like I’m gonna be the one to awaken that feeling in you.”
“As if that needs to be said. It's astounding that you are bringing this up.”
“I don't know what goes on in that fucked up little motherboard of yours.”
That’s why you’re getting defensive, because I’m so wrong, is all he could hear bouncing around inside his head. Tina’s voice that was like a ray of sunshine, mocking him.
“Trust me when I say this, Reed.” His expression had grown stoic. “I have zero desire to be anything but your friend.”
Gavin felt his bottom lip quiver. “Well, good, ‘cause the thought of an android and human together is fucking foul.”
“I was having a good night with you, genuinely— this has been the best few hours I have experienced so far. But, this. This is your hidden talent."
He didn’t take pride in the frown forming on Nines’ face, didn’t offer him quick escapism or get his endorphins pumping. A reaction like this would’ve made his night a few days prior, but now, he just felt numb.
"I would say it's incredibly impressive how you can sour the mood without hesitation, but it is not. It's fucking pathetic. You truly are a dick. That is a constant that you are never going to be able to change.”
Nines let go of Gavin with a shove, causing him to slip and skid his knee— pain was such a familiar friend now, he didn't react. He watched as Nines left the rink and sat down on a bench, resting his elbows against his knees to cup his hands around the back of his head.
Nines had a point. He was great at turning everything he touched, every relationship he had (platonic or otherwise), to absolute shit.