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No matter how much he adjusts himself, he can't feel comfort where he rests back against the side of his car. Even the cigarette burning away a moody plume of stagnant smoke lingers in the air longer than it usually did.
The CyberLife technician bay sat close to the river, and he's glad, for it gave a suitable background noise to focus on. A month ago you'd have required a maintenance ticket and appointment to visit, but now it ran like something 'close to a hospital', in Nines' own rare humorous wording. He grits his teeth, a finger knocking loose a clump of ash that disappears with the breeze.
The door to the building opens softly, footsteps approaching in the snow with a rhythm and weight to them Gavin had memorized off by heart. He doesn't lift his head to greet them, only tipping it to the side and confirming his theory at the sight of those horrible size twelves in that muted grey-green. Panic swells, and he knows he has to get the first word in.
"You should head home. Your dogs probably missing you".
It's stupid, but it's something. Yet also not enough. Gavin gives a firm sharp drag, wishing the guy would either say something or fuck off. Preferably the latter, please be the latter.
"It's alright to cry ya know kid" comes the deep voice that vibrates it's syllables, Gavin admired him for it occasionally. He stiffens, and if his legs weren't locked in place he would quite like to turn around and punch him in that bulky jaw.
"I cried" the voice offers again, forcing the detective to adjust his grip on the cigarette to give himself the time to think on a response.
"Well yeah. He was your son- this aint like that, it's just one of those things" he offers coldly. The footsteps don't leave, in fact, they stay right where they are.
"I wasn't talkin' about when I lost Cole".
Gavin swallows stubbornly, the saliva feeling thick like oil, difficult to get down. "Right".
For a second, he thinks he hears the ice crunch. And if it's the Lieutenant moving towards him he reckons that might just be enough willpower to have his fist finding contact. But Hank must know him a little more that he realizes.
"You know you did everything you could. You managed to get him outta there, bring him all the way here. He'd be thankful for that, especially from you, I know it" Hank tries, navigating those tall impenetrable walls.
"Whoop-dee-doo, aint I a fuckin' hero".
"Gav- You're not listeni-"
"There's nothin' to talk about".
And this time, no amount of Hank standing in silence could budge him. Hank could stand there for an eternity if he wanted to waste the time doing it. Clearly not, a heavy breath blowing out a cloud of vapor from somewhere behind. Hank is retreating, knowing a battle he can't win, though not before leaving him with one last sentence.
A beg, almost. "Some day you're gonna really wish you just opened up and let someone in. Let someone try and make sense of you".
Gavin's lips tighten, his teeth grinding audibly in his skull, the lick of hair that swept across his forehead trying desperately to do a better job of covering his eyes. For a moment, Hank feels he might have managed to shoot right through the needles-eye that was Gavin Reed's insecurity.
But in the next moment it's gone, washed away again.
"Just go home old man".