A/N: I did not intend for it to take this long, and yet it did. MEA CULPA I sincerely hope this never happens again aisdfsdlfmaaaaahhahhhahgh
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On a brighter note, ALMOST HUMAN STARTS BACK UP NEXT WEEK HALLELUJAH.

He knelt down slowly by the body, ignoring the warning beep and the resulting surge of pain from his right leg as the limb bent beneath him. It was just something to fixate on now, these days. Just another part of his wreck of a body.

Sally Halin's eyes were still wide open, and he wanted to close them, but the medics were moving in needlessly and he was brushed aside. Ortiz's corpse sprawled behind her, peppered by the sixteen bullets of the officers. There was only one in Sally, though. One was all that had been necessary.

"John," Dorian said quietly by his side. "It wasn't your fault."

"The hell it wasn't." His voice sounded strange even to himself.

"You saved her child."

"I couldn't save her." That child would grow up motherless, with perhaps the faintest memory of splattering red and a shriek cut short by an echoing bang. All because he'd given the wrong order.

Again.

Dorian laid a hand on his elbow in a move intended to comfort, but it felt all wrong coming from him. Or maybe it was too right. John pulled away harshly, hating the flash of undeniable hurt across Dorian's face. That was all he ever did- hurt people. Or get them killed.

The sharp truth of it was, the android was more human that John knew how to be, more human than any synthetic had any right to be. Maybe, John couldn't help but think, that was why the DRNs were decommissioned in the first place. They had surpassed their creators in humanity.

"Detective!"

There was, John abruptly noticed, a smear of dark blood glistening on his shoe. He scraped it against the floor roughly, then walked away.

…..

John opened his eyes.

He stared dazedly up at the ceiling, saw the glimmer of daylight through the clear solar panels.

He was swiftly becoming aware of the terrible taste in his mouth and the pounding awfulness of a hangover he most definitely deserved after the night he'd had. Nails stabbed behind his eyes without every movement, every thought, and even blinking was quickly becoming overrated.

Something itched at the back of his ragged, fuzzy mind, nudging persistently despite its invisibility, and he frowned unconsciously as he turned onto his side with a suffering groan.

One second. Two seconds.

John stifled a startled yelp and rolled away onto his back despite the surge of dizziness the movement brought, pushing himself up onto his elbows to get a better look.

Dorian was sitting on the floor beside his bed, head bent to his chest and legs sprawled gracelessly in front of him. On closer inspection, John noticed the charging cords trailing across the floor.

"Dorian?" he whispered uncertainly, his voice hoarse and scratchy. The android didn't move, and John reached out tentatively, prodding at the back of his dark head with a finger. "Dorian."

Dorian jolted upright, his heels skittering on the floor for a moment before he regained control over his limbs. He turned his head to the side, one pale blue eye regarding John blithely. "Good morning, John." He sounded more chipper than John grouchily deemed necessary at- he glanced quickly at his clock- eight in the morning.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" John demanded. There was something very crucial he was missing here, he was certain. If he could just think for one damn second-

Dorian looked vaguely guilty, and there was something familiar about that expression that caused a sudden flash of recollection from the night before.

John reeled for all of four seconds before snarling, "You maniac! You drugged me!"

"In my defense, you had it coming."

"You-" John flopped back with a pained groan. "If I didn't feel like complete shit right now…." He couldn't even finish the thought, though he knew there was something about maiming in there.

He heard a tiny click and beep that was most likely the sounds of Dorian unplugging himself, and if that wasn't the weirdest thought he'd ever had in the morning, he didn't know what was.

"Are you hungry?" Dorian asked briskly, coiling his cords up neatly as he spoke.

The thought of food nearly had John stumbling to the bathroom. He emitted an unhappy noise that Dorian apparently took as a sufficient response, and the android disappeared quietly into the kitchen.

"Hey, man, you got any detox pills in here?" came the call a second later.

John tried to remember the contents of his cupboards. "Second on right. Maybe. I dunno. Christ, I'm never drinking again."

"Your words, not mine," Dorian said, reappearing with a pill packet in his hand. He popped one of the flat orange tablets from its foil casing and dangled it cheerfully above John's face. "Open up."

John shot him a homicidal glare, but opened his mouth reluctantly. Dorian dropped the tablet in, and he grimaced as it dissolved on his tongue, coating the inside of his mouth with a faintly bitter taste. The tablet did its work, though, and he could physically feel his headache receding to a nonlethal level. He pushed himself up gingerly to a sitting position, pulling a displeased expression. "God, that's awful."

Dorian shrugged unrepentantly, and John turned to him in annoyance. "And why are you still here?"

"You asked me to stay," Dorian answered mildly, raising his eyebrows.

"What?" John frantically scanned through his patchy memories. "I did not."

"You did," Dorian said insistently. "Grabbed onto me like some kind of inebriated possum."

John frowned, a fuzzy memory dawning unbidden. He felt cool, artificially smooth fingers gently disentangle his hand and hold it still."It's all right. I'll be right here."

John began shaking his head, horrified. "No. No, that wasn't- I wasn't asking you to-"

"Oh." Dorian looked faintly disappointed. "I must have misunderstood."

Well, shit. John shifted uneasily. "Dorian…"

"No, that's cool, man. Sorry I took up your space and all." Dorian gestured vaguely with the coil of cords in his hand. "I used your ports to charge up, hope that's okay with you."

John scratched the back of his head awkwardly, feeling a lurch in his stomach that had little to do with the residual hangover. "Um, yeah, that's fine. Listen, Dorian, I didn't mean-"

"John, it's fine. I understand." And he smiled, a small, terribly sad smile that did nothing to make John feel less like the world's biggest asshole. "I'll need a ride back to the station. I mean, it's my day off, too, but it's okay." John squinted at him, suspicion beginning to niggle at his brain. "I'll probably spend it with Rudy," Dorian continued, "You know, sitting there and staring at the limbs and innards of my fellow-"

"All right!" John snapped. "You manipulative little bastard. You can stay, happy?"

The smile this time was wide and satisfied. "If you insist."

Dorian was surprisingly compliant as John reluctantly began preparing himself for another day. He fetched John's synthetic leg like a cocker spaniel, watching with unfettered interest as John twisted it into place, and when John ordered him into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, he went willingly enough to explore the coffee maker. When John stepped out of his shower, a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist and prosthetic dripping with condensation, he found himself confronted with a steaming mug of perfectly heated caffeine and a flat pile of folded clothes.

He took the mug without a word and frowned at the clothes. "What's this?"

"Something nice. We're going out today," Dorian informed him, his head tilted expectantly.

"Going out? Thought we were staying in."

"Going out," Dorian affirmed. "Staying indoors all day's not good for you."

John sneered. "Speak for yourself. I'm staying put."

Dorian stood his ground. "I've been your partner for two weeks now, John," he said quietly, "and I haven't paid my respects to Pelham yet."

John stilled. "Pelham was cremated," he said warily. "There's nothing to see."

Dorian rocked back on his heels, folding his hands in front of himself serenely. "It's the thought that counts. I would still like to meet him."

John grunted and looked into his mug grouchily. It had, he admitted, been some time since he'd gone to see his old partner. He had gone once after he'd woken from his coma, but that...that hadn't gone so well. He snuck a sidelong glance at Dorian and hurriedly turned away when he saw that the android was watching him keenly. Maybe it'd be better this time.

He downed half the mug before he could wallow too much and grunted reluctantly. "No flowers."

…

Dorian insisted on talking to the little box of ashes alone, of course. John had taken one look at the android's face and swallowed his complaints of "He was my partner, asshole." He had nodded instead and told the assistant Pelham's serial number before stepping out through the doors. There was a bench in the hallway outside, facing the doors, and he sat down with a sigh.

There was a little round window set in the doors, and he could glimpse Dorian sitting down at the reception table as the assistant slid the tray in front of him. He could see Dorian's mouth moving, eyes locked solemnly on the remains of John's ex-partner, and he wondered briefly what the android was saying.

Complaining about John, most likely. Pelham had had his own fair share of pet peeves back in the day, John recalled now, all of which he had intentionally tried to trigger just for the sheer hell of it. Remembering didn't hurt as much anymore, more of a dull throb rather than the stabbing grief it had been in the first few weeks.

He stared at the floor as the minutes ticked by, playing with the end of the fiddly tie Dorian had forced on him. "It looks respectful," Dorian had said, and then he had reached over to fix it for John before they left the apartment. John fingered the knot absently now, remembering looking down at Dorian's lowered head as the android concentrated on straightening the tie.

Weird, to be reminded that Dorian was shorter than him. It seemed like the bot was much larger sometimes.

"John."

He blinked and looked up. Dorian stood before him, hands at his sides. "I've finished."

"Oh."

"Would you like some time?" Dorian asked, when John said nothing more.

John glanced past him at the closed doors. "No. I'm good." And to his own surprise, he was. "I'll come back some other time."

Dorian was studying him inscrutably when he looked back up, and he forced a halfhearted smile. "Where to now?"

Dorian sat down next to him, and their shoulders brushed. "What do you usually do on your days off?"

"Eat," John said at once. "Sleep. Drink. Y'know."

Dorian made an odd movement, as if he had been planning to shake his head, then changed his mind. "At least you've got your priorities straight."

"Damn right I do." John glanced at him, opened his mouth, then hesitated.

"What?"

"No, it's just..." He looked back at the doors, rubbing the joint of his synthetic leg distractedly. "Why are you here, Dorian?"

Dorian frowned quizzically. "To pay my respects, man. I thought that was obvious."

"No, not that." John gestured vaguely, then dropped his hands into his lap. "Why are you...here? With me? You didn't have to...yesterday, you didn't have to stay. You could've left."

Dorian's eyes were very blue from this distance, and John could see the circuits in his irises. "You've been left enough, John. I didn't want to add to that list." Their shoulders bumped again and John suspected now that it was intentional. "And you're my only friend."

John swallowed down the automatic denial and tapped his foot on the floor uncomfortably. "Lucky you," he said instead.

"Yes, I'm starting to think so."

The atmosphere had devolved very quickly into something John didn't want to look too closely at. He stood abruptly instead, breaking whatever…weirdness had grown between them in the last few minutes, and scratched at his collar. "We should go."

"All right," Dorian said amicably, and he followed John out quietly to the car. John was pulling out of the lot when his comm beeped, and he gave the screen a cursory glance. It was a reminder he had set the day before to finish the-

Oh.

And somehow, he had managed to forget. Had allowed Dorian to distract him long enough to stop remembering blank brown eyes and a fan of blonde hair on the bloody floor. His leg throbbed and he swallowed, hands tightening on the wheel.

"John?"

"I've got work to do," he said shortly. "Those reports-"

"I took care of them last night," Dorian said nonchalantly, looking out his window. "While you slept," he added, as if John needed clarification.

John resisted the urge to slam on the brakes and pinwheel off the road. "What? Why- what the hell did you do that for?" I can take care of my own damn business-

"You were tired," Dorian said plaintively. "I don't need to sleep. It needed to be done, so I did it." He turned his head to look at John carefully with one blue eye. "Are you angry?"

John considered it, and he found that, really, he wasn't. He sighed, as exasperated with himself as he was with Dorian and the rest of the world, and glared resolutely out the windshield. "No." There was a pause, and he realized that Dorian was still watching warily, waiting for some sort of blowout. Christ, was that really what the android thought of him? He tried not to feel that it mattered, what Dorian thought of him.

"What did you say?" he asked abruptly, hoping to steer back onto a safer track of conversation. "To Pelham?"

"That's a secret."

John glanced at him, startled at the offhand remark. "What?"

"It's between me and Pelham, man, have some tact," Dorian said lightly.

"You bastard!" John exclaimed incredulously. "Whose partner do you think-"

"No one likes a busybody, John." There was an amused smile playing at the corners of Dorian's mouth as he spoke.

"You ass-"

"Reverting to name-calling. Very immature."

John cursed the rest of the way back to his apartment, accompanied by Dorian's grin.