#fic: eiwwyl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-darklings · 6 years

Text

earth is warmer when you laugh [6];

pairing: connor x reader

chapter summary: “You’re not my Connor.”

word count: 3.2k+

a/n: Boy do I feel like I’ve come a long way. I published Part 1 about two months ago, but life has changed so much since then. I turned another year older, my family purchased our forever home, and I have all of you wonderful readers with me now. I love you all so much! You honestly have no idea how much your support has helped me through some tough times. This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful @ilikecheesecakeforbreakfast who created some incredible fanart (and composed a song) for the previous chapter and this story in general. Also to @gilly-jilly for being amazing and writing their own version of the “reunion”. Hope mine doesn’t disappoint. Enjoy!

— — —

“You’ve reached Steph! You know what to do after the beep!”

You hesitated for a long moment, a heavy weight sitting on your chest, “S-Steph? Please... I need you. I-I need my friend. Please Steph, please...”

You tried to say more but before you could, a loud beep cut you off, freezing the words in your mouth. The phone between your fingers felt so heavy, you allowed it to slide from your numb hand and onto the floor noisily.

Steph had teased you about it. Using an old, outdated phone when communication was so easy nowadays. You wondered what she would say now —if she still saw you using it—wondered if she would tease you again or if she would be angry like she was the last time you saw her.

“How much does it hurt (Name)?” the memory of her furious face, and bitter words pierced you. “How much does it hurt? Not enough, never enough. It will never be enough.”

You curled into yourself, pressing your forehead harshly against your knees. Your apartment felt cold, hollow almost, but you couldn't find the strength to stand and move. Couldn't even find the will to go and wash your hands.

It felt too final. Like if you washed whatever traces of Connor that still lingered on your skin, your friend would truly be lost forever.

Friend, friend, friend.

Steph, Connor.

Some hateful voice deep inside of you almost sang with glee.

You’re very good at losing those, aren’t you?

— — — —

“Are you well Miss (Name)?”

Those words were spoken in the usual, unchanging monotone, but the subtle weight behind them made you freeze. Your tired, weary gaze looked towards Bob who was sitting behind the reception desk, face the customary blank canvas as he stared at you unblinkingly. His LED was still and unmoving, and there was nothing on his face that would suggest he was affected by your appearance, but you still couldn't force any words out.

You were so used to telling people you were fine, and good, thank you for asking so much better now. But this was different. There was no judgement, or anger, or pity in Bob’s eyes, just a subtle sort of slant in his silent regard. Your grip on the counter tightened and for a long moment, you couldn't think at all.

The station was quiet this early in the morning, and you noticed the night-shift officers still prowling the peaceful hallways. Truthfully, you could tell Bob everything if you wanted to. No one would be able to hear you, and it would be so much easier to pour your heart out to a kind, unjudging face.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you muttered weakly instead, the words sliding down your throat like acid; harsh and stinging.

Bob stared blankly at you, his head slightly tilted to one side. The gesture stung so deeply, you immediately looked away. Because even though it was so very different in execution, it reminded you too much of Connor.

Blue blood.

Dead eyes.

“How much does it hurt (Name)?”

“Not enough,” you whispered, and felt the punishing truth of those words settle in your heart.

“Miss (Name), if I may, I have over a hundred comfort principles installed in my program,” Bob spoke suddenly, breaking your reverie with his bland words. “You may use them any time you need.”

A smile—weak and off-kilter—tugged your lips upwards, and you rubbed the heel of your palm over your sore eyes for a moment. You felt the sting of friction and ignored it, taking a moment to look at Bob’s face as he examined you in return.

“Thank you, Bob,” you finally replied weakly, even though his words made you want to cry. Except, of course, you didn’t think you were capable of shedding any more tears after yesterday. “I will keep your offer in mind.”

The android did not reply, simply inclining his head marginally in your direction as if accepting your words. Your bleak smile quivered for a moment but you caught yourself before your emotions overwhelmed you again, and moved away from the desk with hurry.

You gave the android a cursory wave, not trusting your voice to provide an adequate farewell. Gripping your bag harshly between your fingers, you walked hastily further into the station, ignoring few startled looks that were sent your way by fellow officers.

They knew, or have already heard about what happened last night.

You didn’t want them to look at you, to judge you for mourning a friend. You wanted to hide away somewhere where you knew you would be safe from prying eyes.

The thought hit you so suddenly you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was only one such place.

— — — —

One, two, three...pause...one, two, three…

The click of the empty gun hit your ears twice before you finally lowered it in frustration. The paper target before you looked torn and ruined as you harshly tugged the headphones off your head. The holes were littered all over the large space, most missing important targets like heart or head.

(“You’re a good shot, for a human—”)

“Stop,” you hissed angrily, practically ripping the empty clip out, your fingers shaking. A heavy, poignant weight sat in your heart as you breathed deeply, biting your lip in mute despair. That invisible weight scratched its way across your very soul, biting and tearing; practically burning you from inside out. You had known this pain once before—only once—and you weren't sure if you could bear to feel it again.

Not again, not so soon.

Lifting your hand again, you turned your wrist marginally to one side, gritting your teeth together in concentration.

You were strong.

You were a highly trained individual who had a job to do.

Pain, like all things, would come to pass eventually. You knew that.

And you had your life to get on with.

Bang.

The shot hit with terrible accuracy, piercing right through the middle of the target. You stared at the bulls-eye with a mix of anger and sadness in your heart. It was like you could feel Connor beside you; a soothing, calm presence that had stood by your side when he showed you the correct technique in the first place.

“It’s good to see you applying my suggestions to your technique (Name),” his smooth voice remarked from behind you and you exhaled slowly, closing your eyes as your arm lowered. “If you like, I could show you a few more tactics when we have free time.”

“Why would you be so cruel?” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

“(Name)?”

You shook your head, “It’s never enough. I know that. No matter how much it hurts, it’s not enough. But not you, please not you too.”

You felt a weight settle against your shoulder; steady and cautious, so very gentle too, as if there was some unspoken fear of hurting you. “(Name)?”

You jerked away from the cooler touch, your eyes flying open at the insistent, cautious tone. Turning around in trepidation, you felt your breath halt in your lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter as you stared at Connor’s face.

He was the same as you remembered him—a distant, divine star that made you envious of the night sky for having him.

The familiar dip of his chin, the curve of his mouth and the richness of his eyes as they looked at you unfathomably with something. Perhaps worry, perhaps relief, or perhaps you were simply hallucinating what you so fiercely desired to see.

“You’re not real,” you breathed falteringly, your words rigid and throat dry. “You’re not real. I saw you d-die. You died. I held you—I—”

A firm hand landed on your shoulder again—his hand; real, solid, alive—and you almost felt the bones in your shoulder cave in, and your skin blister as his brows drew together. It was a tight, confused line that made his expression appear more severe, near unforgiving if it wasn’t for the gentleness of his touch.

“(Name), your vitals are worryingly high,” he spoke formally, steadying you as you tried to jerk away. “If you do not regulate your breathing in the next 30 seconds, you will experience a panic attack. Breathe, (Name), breathe,” he added, a little softer but still with enough command in his voice that you couldn't help but obey.

Your lungs ached but mouthful by mouthful, you forced more air into them. The pressure building against your temple eased, and you didn’t realise how close you and Connor were standing till your shaking fingers reached forward to brush against his forearm hesitantly.

“I must apologise, I sought you and Lieutenant out the moment I arrived,” Connor explained, voice quiet and smooth as if terrified of scaring you away. “I thought that it would be better if I explained the situation myself. My replacement was dispatched the moment—”

Your arms wrapped around him so fiercely, you felt Connor lean back slightly from the impact of your bodies colliding.

And it was the sensation. The feeling of the solid, warm mass of him, the scratch of his jacket against your cheek that woke you up, made you bleed with the realisation that—

“You’re alive.”

Connor was still for a long moment, a stiffness to his entire frame that would have made the contact between you awkward under different circumstances. But your arms were around him in an unbreakable grip as you pressed yourself so tightly against him, it almost hurt. “I do believe another apology is in order (Name). I did not realise that the demise of my predecessor would cause you such distress.”

Breathing deeply through your parted lips, you almost jumped when you felt a hand settle tentatively on your lower back. Awkward, unsure.

“You’re alive,” you murmured vacantly again, your hands still trembling.

Connor shifted ever so slightly, “(Name), you know better than that. I am not, in fact, alive. I’m simply—”

“Alive,” you cut in, harshly, shakily. “You’re here, and you’re alive.”

The hand on your lower back tensed against your skin briefly before you felt him shift again, his words brushing against the top of your head as he leaned down.

“Yes, (Name), I’m here. I’m here.”

— — — —

“So...how does it work?”

A busy cafe was probably not the best place for this type of conversation, but it was the closest you could find near the station. It supposedly served some pretty good coffee too.

You hadn’t realised that it was almost lunchtime until Connor led you out from the target range, scanning your identity card against the electronic reader. It was impossible to not glance at him every few seconds. Impossible not to feel the exhilaration each time you saw him, and it hit you again that he was truly and wholly alive.

Real.

Connor, in turn, was quiet, almost perturbed as he gazed thoughtfully out of the window. His indicator was a peaceful blue but there was an underlying tension on his face when he finally turned to you.

“What happened with the deviant yesterday was both unexpected and unpleasant,” he began stiffly, hands clasped together, and you felt uncomfortable with the stringent way he addressed you. Like a stranger. “When a Connor model is destroyed, CyberLife dispatches a new one to take its place. I understand that it must be an unpleasant thought for you, but I hope that it will not hinder our work together.”

You swallowed feebly, breaking your gaze as you glanced outside, and towards the busy street, “So you’re not my Connor,” you voiced softly, resignedly, the happiness in your chest fading just a little.

A replacement, and nothing more.

Replaced like one might replace a broken toy.

He was not the Connor who showed you his coin tricks, Connor who spent long nights sorting through endless case files with you, the one who made you laugh on daily basis and saved your life.

Not your friend.

Just a—

“I didn’t forget you,” he said, his words catching your attention as your gaze turned back to him. “When my predecessor was destroyed, it uploaded its memory. For me...it feels like I’ve simply been asleep, but everything we’ve been through together still happened (Name). I did not, however, foresee you caring so much that it would have a negative impact on your wellbeing.”

“Of course I care,” you snapped grimly, your breath hitching. “You—You’re my friend Connor. Of course, I care.”

Connor’s expression smoothed; the furrow of his brows easing and it was almost comical to see gentleness bleed back into his expression as he shifted unsurely, looking almost taken aback by your words.

A flare of amber against his temple, and he frowned slightly. “Oh. I see,” was his soft, hushed reply. “Had I known you regarded our relation as such, I would have updated my social protocols to reflect it. Last entry is marked as ‘partners’ I believe.”

A weak, relieved laugh escaped your parted lips, and it felt good to feel that amber of joy nested against your heart again. “You really haven’t changed, huh? You’re still you. Still Connor.”

He was looking at you again. Looking with that subtle, probing look that stripped you of your armour, stripped you of any defensive shield you could throw up. It was so unnerving to feel yourself being emptied piece by piece.

For a being that kept insisting he was not human, Connor was surprisingly good at decoding them.

“You’re unwell.”

Blinking, you forced a strangled laugh, patting your cheek lightly, “Wow, tell me what you really think Connor. I didn’t exactly sleep well last night,” you informed him with a worn smile.

But he didn’t smile, didn’t so much as blink as he peered at you severely. “I did not mean physically unwell, although your blood sugar levels are below the advisable threshold. I mean that you are unwell...inside...and I’m afraid I do not know how to proceed since I know nothing of such matters. But as your friend, I have an obligation to try and help.”

“A good friend makes you feel like they see right into you, and even though they find all the bad bits, they still love you for you. Just like us!”

Steph.

There was warmth inside you that brimmed the longer you looked at Connor’s inquisitive eyes.

“Don’t ever change Connor,” you said finally with a genuine twitch of your lips, and Connor’s head lowered in confusion from the ambiguity of your words. “I know it’s probably your programming making you say this or whatever, but...just never change, okay?”

“Change...is against my programming (Name).”

A long beat of quiet followed his words as you regarded each other tersely.

“Wait, I just realised,” you spoke up suddenly, breaking the peaceful quiet as you leaned towards him suddenly. Connor froze, blinking from the quickness of the motion but did not otherwise react. “If there’s more of you out there...does that mean CyberLife just has a room full of Connors stashed away somewhere?”

“While I have not seen this type of space myself,” Connor replied evenly. “I can only assume that something of similar effect is in place, yes.”

There was a stretch of silence between you again, the lively cafe setting filling the stillness in-between as you tried to find the best way to phrase your next question.

“Does that make you sad? I know you say you’re a machine that feels nothing but—”

Connor’s eyes narrowed; first, in confusion, then realisation as his lips moved into a taut line. “Why would that make me sad (Name)? I hold no attachment to my bodies. I am merely a tool to be used as CyberLife deems fit.”

You smiled painfully at him. “Because it breaks my heart when I think about my friend being used like that.”

Connor pushed back sharply, and you jumped at the forceful way his back met the seat behind him. For a brief, terrifying second there was such bright red burning through his indicator you felt your eyes widen in shock, but it was gone in a blink. The wild burn in his eyes settled like a sea after a storm, and then he was at ease again. Calm.

“Con?”

Worry seeped into the careful way you said his name, and his answering impassiveness was almost unsettling.

“We should return to the station (Name), Lieutenant is unlikely to be pleased if we’re late,” he stated calmly, rising from the booth first. He reached forward, offering his arm, “Shall we?”

You rose from your seat without taking his hand, your gaze searching as you gazed up at him with concern. Connor’s head dipped slenderly, and you vaguely wondered if he realised how graceful he sometimes was for a cold, unfeeling machine. He moved first, turning away as he stepped towards the door, and your hand jerked forward on instinct.

Don’t let him walk away from you.

Your fingers gripped the back of his jacket rigidly, stopping him dead in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, and you were happy to stare at the back of his head when you spoke demurely, “I’m really glad you’re back Connor.”

You held on for another few seconds before you let go, your fingers hesitant as you ignored the rigid slope of his shoulders.

You brushed past him hurriedly, and didn’t let him see your crestfallen expression when he followed behind you silently.

— — — —

There was a crowd around your desk.

Stumbling to a halt, you felt Connor’s arm brush against yours as he stopped beside you as well. Officers milled around the space, all talking loudly and pointing as your eyes sought out the familiar, weathered face of Hank.

The older man looked ready to tear off heads. He stormed around, snapping at anyone who tried broaching questions.

Naturally, that was the exact moment he spotted you. His expression looked murderous as he stalked towards you briskly. Shooting Connor a withering look as he came to a stop before you, he looked over your appearance once before glaring at Connor again.

That told you everything you needed to know about how well their little reunion went.

“Where the fuck have ya’ been?”

“Uh, lunch,” you replied shortly, trying to look over his shoulder. “What is going on?”

There were footsteps behind you, and you almost cringed at the voice that registered in your ears, “You two idiots just had to get into trouble, didn’t you?”

“Gavin,” you greeted with fake cheer. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Here to fulfil your daily asshole rota?”

The man scoffed, giving you a lazy sneer, “I have no issues with you, sweetheart, besides your poor taste in company,” he said, casting a harsh glare Connor’s way who was like an unmoving statue beside you. He glared at the android darkly for a moment before glancing at you again. “You look like shit by the way.”

“Bite me, egomaniac.”

“Enough!” Hank snapped, glancing between you three. “Come along. And I hope you have some answers for me, kid.”

You obediently followed Hank as he led you towards your desk. Noticing your approach, other officers cleared a path for you before Hank stopped in front of the desk you shared with Connor.

“This was addressed to you,” Hank said, glancing at the object on your desk.

You moved towards the box and Connor was beside you immediately, expression hard as you both looked inside at the same time.

Sitting inside, bundled in a white towel was a severed android hand, soaking the fluffy material in bright blue blood.

Next to it, pinned by a familiar, sleek black arrow was a note:

FOLLOW THE TRAIL

———

an: “it’s been 84 years..” thank you so much for reading guys! sorry this wasn’t a giant 6k+ you probably expected lol but when I outlined the story (fully outlined for those of you who may not know!) this ended up being a transition chapter since we have another original case next time! Hope you guys are excited! I also hope you guys enjoyed the reunion ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

As always, I love you all more than anything (apart from Connor but heyyy..) and thank you so much for your continued support. It means the world!!

LOVELY PEOPLE I ❤️:

@katherineschild @dpslover4life-blog @ceylon-morphe286 @in-a-cupboard-under-some-stairs @ayamecrevan @snooper1 @emmygreen817 @kats2art @fandompotato24-7 @flyingfiremelon @dej-okay @saiiven @kdmpthenerd @arcana-eskallion @unknown-jpg @anseo11 @allheart36 @nomorepumpkin @melissalovesmusicyay @prancing-through-the-rain @tyraneya @tea-with-loki @londonlovinglinguist @meanwhilesmiley @marss-anonymous @significant-annoyancee @shipping-land-hlp @lunar-r-bryce @zarekii-chan @zeddlocket @bookworrm1999 @anxiousklutz @wonders-of-the-multiverse @paradox-brody-chase @fandoms4everyone @trustmeimawhalebiologist @deviantconnorarmy @sweetdayme4427 @positivity227 @trashofthelowestkind @madammarkiplier @super-flamin-hot-cheetos @a-song-of-obsession-and-insanity @generallyuglyduckling @dixie-chick @lady-songstress @binxi1031 @krazykendraisnotinsane @drastically-here @winter-orchid @guardianoftheunderratedthings @the-ordinarylady @my-dark-happy-place @awfully-tired @nightismyname @stainedbubbles @satansladydoor @arkium @squeakthemonkey @losersunitetonight @chocolattaee @assonanceambiance @levina-h @underagetigerdrinker @mynahx3 @chairokuno @pickelope @pota-kun @shadows-echoes @turnmeupside @beesinmyenvelopes @negans-angel-acerk800 @moonbri @almostelegantfire @valiantelk @zarekii-chan @urban-eagle @thecrazybluefangirl @thedetectiveinthephonebooth @violetdream13 @fangirlbitch02 @ragidi @gentledreaming @21putnamp @mynameisgabrielle @glitch-girl318 @elaneth-elf-friend @moosythemoose @omnastar365 @leeeggggsssssss @badassbeckettswan @ultra-violet-starlite @morganster0730 @connorfixinghistie @ conwhore800 @ sebatmanstan @ frodoswaggins @ team-wang-puppy @ royalbluehues @ eccentrically-expressive @ omelys-space @ a-typical-antisocial-fangirl @ belleknows @ nissistylinson @random-stupid-stuffs @feminist-violinist @ask-prototype-twins @calumstuffs @onceuponagleepottermindlock @xthefuckerysquaredx @swordsandserpents @aya-fay @itsjustahuman @sariasardonica @i-do-wat-i-want @br33zy-creations @hlesssamanta @oliolioxiclean @shadows-echoes @rk800isprettydangattractive @honeybeelily @wiltedcupidboi @simplysaying @jamieanimemachine @superanonymousreader @mr-robot-x @sherlockspie @stalecarb @teigra @drmsqnc @layinglonely @gayoats @sweet-fate @certainsoultaco @wolfmothar @avispate @nanameni @samantha-loves-anime @bithepowerofgay @whomthehellisbucky @haurchii @starrypecas @beautifulsilvermarch @rose-01 @mldivers @sujuvixxo @belleknows

#connor x reader #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #dbh fanfic #dbh fanfiction #connor rk800 #connor rk800 x reader #dbh rk800 #dbh rk800 x reader #dbh connor rk800 #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human fic #fic: eiwwyl #I MISSED THIS FIC SO MUCH AHHH #HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNOR MY BABY BOI

676 notes · View notes

jimwack · 6 years

Photo

@the-darklings http://the-darklings.tumblr.com/post/174831108165/earth-is-warmer-when-you-laugh

1K notes · View notes

the-darklings · 6 years

Text

earth is warmer when you laugh [2];

pairing: connor x reader

chapter summary: “Aim for the moon, even if you miss you’ll land amongst the stars.”

word count: 3.8 k+

a/n: You guys are honestly the most amazing people ever. Thank you so much for all your supportive messages/likes/reblogs (the first part broke 700 notes I *cry*). I was scared stiff to post this because I wasn’t sure if my writing was any good, especially after not writing for so long but I’m so glad that you all enjoyed it. And due to popular demand, this will now be a full length story. I’m cross-uploading it on Ao3 as well if some of you find it easier to read it on there. Hope you enjoy part 2!

FIRST | AO3 | THIRD

———

“Lieutenant’s desk is this way.”

Immensely grateful for the guidance, you quickly followed Connor as he led you deeper into the office space. Unfortunately, you were not oblivious to glares and cold looks directed his way when he walked past.

Perhaps it was understandable. Connor was clearly the first of his kind; in a sense that he was directly involved with investigations, an unheard of feat for any android. While police did use androids for general work being so involved with cases clearly made people uneasy, and with that unease came distrust and anger.

Nevertheless, the idea of people treating their computers or phones with more respect than androids made anger boil in your veins. Androids may not be humans—not in a physical, tangible sense—but they were still alive, and deserved at least some measure of respect.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor’s voice rang out as he halted before a desk, causing you to almost bump into him. “This is your newest assistant (Name).”

You glanced over his slim shoulders to look at the man seated behind a desk. He looked weathered, his grey hair unkempt and beard untrimmed. A crushing sort of weight seemed to weight him down, the slumped set of his shoulders rising briefly as if he tried to fight off irritation.

The man finally lifted his head, bright blue eyes narrowing upon spotting Connor before sliding slowly towards you. His bloodshot eyes narrowed even further, accenting the deep bags under his eyes.

It was as you stared at the deep age lines on his face that you realised something absolutely ridiculous.

He’s completely hungover.

Taking a step forward, you extended your hand towards the man, shooting Connor a quick glance. He appeared unsurprised by the state of their supervisor and observed your interaction with mild interest.

“It’s pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant,” you began, “My name is (Name). I hope to learn much under your command.”

Anderson looked you up and down without taking your hand, “Oh yes, Seattle’s youngest and brightest,” he stated voice full of disdain. “How old are you anyway kid?”

Letting your hand fall, you stared at the man in front of you incredulously. Ignoring his judgemental stare you replied with a slight smile, “Age is no guarantee of efficiency,” you told him before adding, “sir.”

Anderson snorted, bending down to his work again; a clear dismissal that stung more than you expected. You’ve been so excited to work with this man. He was a high profile detective, or had been, once, before alcohol clearly unmade him like it did so many others.

“My age does not reflect my ability, sir,” you explained hastily, “If you would just listen—”

“No kid, you listen,” Anderson cut you off. “It’s bad enough they forced this tin can on me, now some rookie from Seattle? I don’t care if you think you’re some big shot over there, okay? Here you do what I say and we take it from there. Understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Anderson,” you acknowledged coolly. “But you should know that I’ve been looked down on before and it will not stop me from proving my worth.”

Anderson blinked a few times as if shocked before his eyes widened. “Jesus, kid. That’s not what I meant,” he explained, running a hand over his face with exasperation. “Just keep your head down and work hard. And call me Hank.”

Anderson—Hank—stumbled to his feet and grabbed his phone before turning to you, gaze suddenly focused on Connor who still hadn’t moved from your side. You had almost forgotten he was there.

“You show (Name) around, got it?” he directed his words at Connor who nodded marginally.

“Certainly Lieutenant,” he replied swiftly. “Are you departing already? I must remind you that we still have unfinished reports to deal with.”

Hank rolled his eyes and shooting an irritated look the androids’ way marched past you both.

“Then finish them,” he snapped gruffly, and then he was gone.

You stared at the closed elevator door in mild disbelief.

“That was—he—”

You couldn't finish your sentence, completely lost for words. It wasn’t that Hank was unkind, but you did not expect him to be so...irritable, or hungover.

“Yes, as far as first meetings go that was not the best one,” Connor pointed out drily.

Despite yourself, you chuckled weakly at his poor attempt at humour.

—x—x—

Detroit was beautiful in the early morning sun.

The vast contrast between the modern and the old was striking. It was like the city was divided into two different factions, not quite settling on either. One turn led to skyscrapers and busy concrete pathways while others to abandoned, boarded-up shop windows with dirty alleyways.

Still, you preferred to avoid big crowds if you could, so doing your shopping in the morning was much preferable. You still needed some basics for your new flat. Mundane, uninteresting things like a kettle and a toaster.

Wrapping your coat tighter around yourself to battle the early morning chill, you gazed thoughtfully at different shop displays. After a quick search on the internet, you found that this Shopping Center was closest to where you lived; a pleasant 10-minute walk to be exact. It was both a good way to stretch your legs and see more of the neighbouring area.

Humming to yourself, you were in the middle of comparing two different toasters when the sound of a commotion reached your ears.

Turning quickly, you spotted a group of anti-android protestors not far from you. Their leader, a tall, sneering man was violently manhandling an android.

“Hey,” you snapped angrily when you saw the man roughly push the android over. “What the hell are you doing?”

Running towards them, you pushed your hand against the protester’s chest who was readying himself for a kick.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” the man growled lowly. “I'm going to show this stupid machine where its place is.”

You pushed yourself in the man’s path, pulling out your new badge. Few protesters recoiled upon noticing the police badge but the sneering man looked untroubled. If anything his expression seemed to tighten even further, a scalding sort of fury in his eyes.

“You touch that android and I'll arrest you and all your buddies for destruction of property,” you replied coldly. “Disruption of peace and breach of android law number 38. You really want that?”

Truthfully, you would only be able to arrest the man since he was the instigator of the attack but it would be easier just to scare them all off.

The man took a sudden step towards you and you tensed, reading yourself for a fight. But he only leaned forward, towering over you, only a breath away from your face. His expression was hateful; all pinched mouth and sneers, no sign of kindness or compassion to be found.

“I despise people like you,” he snarled quietly, his words meant only for you. “Protecting these machines, treating them as equals. You make me sick. One day when those things take over your job and leave your family hungry and desperate... I hope you'll remember this moment.”

With that, he shoved past you roughly, his shoulder colliding with yours. You managed to keep your expression neutral though your body refused to relax as you watched the man and his friends walk away. Angry people often did stupid things, you knew this from experience, and that man struck you as the type to lose self-control. His words, while undoubtedly bitter, did not hurt you nor did they make you question yourself. You were proud of your resolve and refuse to change your mind just because so many thought you should. Maybe if people just stopped being so angry things would be better.

Sighing, you pocketed your badge before turning your attention to the fallen android. He was on his knees, staring blankly at the slight bruise on his palm.

“Hey, are you injured?”

The android moved his head up so you could see his face, his bright green eyes startling you for a moment. He only gazed at you patiently, not saying a word before you knelt before him, carefully touching his palm.

“What’s your name?” you inquired patiently. “Is there anyone I could call?”

The android shook his head once, a precise and practised motion before he answered, “I am detecting no internal damage,” he told you before adding, “My name is Markus.”

You nodded, gingerly picking up his fallen parcel.

“It’s nice to meet you, Markus, I’m (Name),” you introduced yourself as you got to your feet, outstretching your hand towards the fallen android.

He peered at you unblinkingly for a moment before placing his hand in yours. You knew the gesture was unnecessary since the android stood up in one fluid motion, but you still wanted to make sure that he was truly alright.

“I’m very sorry about those guys,” you said regretfully. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright getting home?”

“Violence is not an uncommon response to my kind.”

You felt anger ring through you at the casual, matter-of-fact way he said it. Like it was to be expected. Like it was normal.

“I can understand their anger,” you countered immediately, frustration clear in your voice. “But it absolutely does not give them the right to attack the first person they see. It’s not right.”

Markus tilted his head to one side sharply, eyes focusing on you for one uncomfortable moment. It was like someone had pressed the Pause button on his entire existence. After another few seconds, you started to grow concerned for his well being, wondering if he was truly undamaged in the fall.

“Markus?”

The android blinked a few times, and only then did you notice his flickering indicator; a clear sign that he was processing something.

“I apologise but I must return to my owner now.”

You jumped slightly at his abrupt reply, “Yeah, of course.”

His gaze shifted down and you suddenly remembered that you still help his parcel in your hands.

“Sorry,” you said with a slight, embarrassed laugh. “There you go.”

But as you extended the parcel towards him, you caught the name printed on the packaging and faltered.

“You paint?” you questioned excitedly, an enthusiastic grin breaking across your face.

Markus shook his head in reply, gently taking the parcel from your hands. “I do not, but my owner does.”

“My best friend Steph paints as well,” you divulged happily. “She is really good too! Had a show in Seattle last year and everything. She mostly paints still life but it’s so inspiring—”

You trailed off because thinking about Steph made you think about Seattle and how different things were now. How much you had lost, including Steph—especially Steph. Markus was still staring at you. Expression almost eerily familiar to the expression on Connor’s face yesterday. Like something incredibly difficult and confusing was placed before them that they could not figure out.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't hold you any longer.”

Markus hesitated, a moment of brief uncertainty crossing his face before he nodded again in that felicitous manner.

“Please be careful,” you shot his way with a brief wave before turning in the opposite direction, starting your journey towards work, earlier shopping trip post-noted for now.

Just before you turned the corner, you glanced back and almost stopped when you realised Markus had not moved.

In fact, he was in the exact same spot, bright green eyes focused on your retreating figure.

—x—x—

“Good morning Bob!”

The android in question raised his head slowly at your jovial greeting. The redhead woman from yesterday sneered at you as you stopped by the desk. Crinkling her nose in distaste, she turned back to face her computer, trying to pretend she wasn’t listening to your conversation.

“It is indeed morning Miss (Name),” was the androids dispassionate reply and you grinned at him. Bob was clearly an older model. DH-230 was one of the oldest models still in circulation by CyberLife and you couldn't help but be surprised that the police department still used such an old model. Bob’s model lacked adaptability and ease the newest models—Connor came to mind almost immediately—had.

“Are you alright?” you questioned easily as you placed your palm against the scanner.

Bob blinked slowly, his indicator flickering for a few seconds before he dipped his head once.

“I detect no system errors,” he finally concluded.

The redhead snorted loudly and you shot her a hard look before turning your attention back to Bob. “I’m glad to hear it. If anyone tries to pick a fight you tell me right away, okay?”

You spoke purposely loudly, casting a meaningful look in the redhead’s direction. The not so subtle hint seemed to fly over Bob’s head, however, his face an unshifting mask of indifference.

“I will be sure to inform you of any transgressions Miss (Name).”

“Good.”

With last firm glance at the woman, you waved at Bob who only watched you silently as you walked towards the elevator. Pressing the familiar button you relaxed, allowing your mind to wonder. While yesterday was all about getting settled in—something Connor graciously helped you with—there was still much to be done. Real work would start today and there was a lot to cover if Connor’s offhand remarks were accurate. With Hank’s...issues, it was perhaps no surprise that they assigned an additional person to the investigation.

When the elevator halted to a stop, you immediately stepped out, allowing other people in before you moved towards your table. Thankfully Connor suggested simply sharing the workspace since according to him he did not require much space. The idea of sitting by yourself somewhere else on the floor did not exactly appeal to you. As such, you were happy you managed to work out a better solution.

Speaking of the android, you spotted him almost instantly, his jacket sticking out in a sea of mundane clothing. When you got closer, you had to suppress a laugh at the stiff way Connor sat in his chair, hands folded carefully in his lap. It was perhaps the most un-human thing you’ve seen him do so far—and considering the near frightening way he could adapt and mimic human interactions—it said a lot.

“Good morning Connor.” you greeted pleasantly.

Your slight smile grew when you noticed how Connor immediately turned towards the sound of your voice. The neutral expression on his face lifted slightly, something almost pleasant flickering across it before he inclined his head in greeting. “Good morning (Name). I trust you had a pleasant night’s rest.”

“It was good, thanks,” you answered, taking off your jacket, eyes sliding towards the empty table in front of yours. “Lieutenant’s still not here?”

Connor replied without looking away, “Indeed not. We should not expect him until noon, if at all. As such, may I suggest we get started?”

Exhaling in astonishment you only nodded, almost falling into your seat. The pile of documents you had to go through was...substantial to say the least. The sooner you started the better.

Unfortunately, it took you only ten minutes of work to come to a sickening realisation.

“This is completely unbelievable,” you muttered in shock, Connor pausing his work beside you, inquisitive gaze focused on you. “This is isn’t just a problem. Deviancy in this city is more of a—I don’t know, an epidemic? Is it really this excessive?”

Connor blinked silently, still focusing on you. “It is,” he told you simply. “It’s the reason CyberLife sent me in. With my involvement, they believe this investigation will be solved quicker. I can only assume that is the reason you were assigned as well.”

You glanced at him curiously. He told you yesterday how he was a prototype designed specifically to adapt and learn in order to make integration easier. He was designed for police work that much was clear but he was still unlike any other android you’ve ever seen.

He was expressive for one. Even now his face shifted between micro expressions; a slow shift of his facial muscles, a few blinks, a crease between his brows or shift of his shoulders. While he was still so clearly an android something about Connor was inherently different.

“(Name)?” he prompted faintly.

Blinking rapidly you snapped your gaze away from him, “Sorry, really spaced out there,” you explained with a weak chuckle.

You fell back into work easily, making good progress on the giant pile on your desk before noon. Which is ironically when Hank decided to slip in, a troubling sort of stumble in his step. Even from the distance, you could smell the acidic sting of alcohol. If anything he looked even worse than he did yesterday; bleary-eyed and scowling like the world was out to get him.

“Good morning Lieutenant,” Connor greeted drily. “How are you this afternoon?”

Trying, and failing, to smother your grin, you glanced at Hank who shot the android a furious glare. He muttered something angrily under his breath before seating himself down heavily.

You and Connor continued looking at him before Hank looked up and snapped, “What are you two looking at?”

You sighed wearily before muttering, “Would you like some painkillers, sir? You look like you need them.”

Hank scowled at you fiercely, looking like he was about to unload some not-so-kind words towards you before, eventually, nodding reluctantly.

Ignoring Connor’s unwavering gaze, you fished out a few tablets that you passed to the man. Still scowling, he swallowed them dry before getting to his own pile of work with a pained expression. You shared a brief look with Connor before focusing on your own work once again.

There was only silence after that, but silence was better than tension.

—x—x—

Hank only stayed till 5 before declaring that he had “things to do” which you were starting to realise translated roughly to “getting drunk”. He at least looked more human than he did when he walked in. Connor met his words with a flicker of distaste on his face but did not comment.

“Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere,” you told him tiredly, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “There’s still way too much to go through.”

And there was. The list of leads, evidence, and anonymous tips seemed endless. Reports that needed to be written or altered or archived even more so. Police work always involved paperwork, it was just the way it was, but this was getting irksome.

Together you worked tirelessly for another few hours, the station almost empty now before you realised that your eyes felt like sandpaper and the words before you were blurring. You leaned in your chair with a sharp exhale.

“I think it’s time to call it a day,” you concluded, exhaustion clear in your voice. “We can pick it up tomorrow.”

Connor tilted his head to one side, the gesture making him look young—almost bemused—before he rose from his chair. He looked exactly like he did this morning, not a single crease of tiredness or fatigue to be found on his face.

Another reminder, you thought to yourself silently.

“Thank you for today Connor,” you mentioned thoughtfully, tidying your space. “I’m starting to think that you’re godsend.”

It was true. Connor was staggeringly efficient. Without him, you doubted you would have gotten through half the pile. Now, less than half remained.

Connor shifted his focus to you, rubbing his hands together in a manner that made you pause. It was—it was such a human tick to have, something someone may do if they were nervous or uneasy.

Another oddity, you thought perturbed.

The familiar crease between his brows was back, a tiny flicker of his indicator showcasing his unease with something.

“You are welcome,” he replied, gesturing for you to walk in front of him. “We made good progress today.”

He appeared pleased about that as he fell into step beside you. You both exited the police station side by side, the nippy autumn air instantly biting at your nose.

At least it wasn’t raining.

In fact, the night was cold and clear, full moon hanging like a silent, sentient guardian in the sky.

Walking down the steps you spoke, “We make a good team,” you mused with a slight grin. “Although I do admit this was not what I expected when I transferred here. I guess it will look better on my resume if I stick with it.”

Connor paused, staring towards you curiously, “Was Detroit not your intended destination?”

“Oh no,” you quickly replied, coming to a stop. “It was. It’s definitely a step up from Seattle. But my dream is to work in Washington. I would like to join the FBI one day. But it’s not that easy, you know? Especially when you don’t have much field experience.”

“Your ambition is admirable.”

You blinked a few times before a startled laugh left your mouth. Glancing towards the sky, you stretched your hand forward, covering the beautiful and glowing moon, “When I was little my grandmother used to tell me: “Shoot for the moon, little one, even if you miss you'll land amongst the stars.” And now I always do.”

“Norman Vincent Peale.” was his immediate retort.

You felt, rather than heard, Connor come to stand beside you. You didn’t look away from your outstretched hand, but you couldn't help but smile wider when you felt his focused gaze on you.

After a second your smile faltered, a bloom of sadness taking root in your soul. “My mother used to call me a dreamer,” you began faintly. “A dreamer of impossible dreams. Of course, for her, that was just synonym with a naive idiot. She wasn’t wrong but—”

“I was under the assumption that human determination is one of their biggest strengths,” Connor said with unexpected firmness in his voice. “Our world was created by dreamers after all.”

Your hand shook slightly and you hastily dropped it, your fingers tightening into a fist. The moon, beautiful and visible once again, shone down on you and for one bizarre moment, you couldn’t speak.

You wondered if Connor knew how much those words meant to you.

You glanced up at him, only to see him already peering down at you with something like confusion on his face. His indicator fluttered every few seconds and you couldn't help but smile at him faintly.

“Thank you for that Connor,” you told him very softly, genuine warmth filling your chest and tone.

A brief flash of yellow flared through Connor’s LED but before he could reply, you turned around and started your trek home.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder with a muffled chuckle and a wave.

You gave him one last glance and almost laughed at the bewildered, intense look on his face as you walked away.

———

an: I hope you don't mind a denser, longer chapter as I wanted to get some background/plot stuff established. It's very interesting to balance Connor at the beginning because he still has to come off cold/neutral/indifferent like he did at the beginning of the game. But don't worry with Reader's positive influence he's going to start warming up eventually. :) Once again thank you for your feedback and I'm always open to suggestions/constructive feedback. Or if you have any questions feel free to shoot them my way! Love you all. <3

LOVELY PEOPLE:

@katherineschild @dpslover4life-blog @yraneya

(let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! :D)

#connor x reader #connor imagine #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh connor #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #fic: eiwwyl

1K notes · View notes

the-darklings · 6 years

Text

earth is warmer when you laugh [3];

pairing: connor x reader

chapter summary: “Precious?” “Yeah, precious. It’s something so dear to you, you don’t want to live without it.”

word count: 2.9 k+

a/n: My mind is blown. Your support has been absolutely breathtaking and I will never stop thanking every single one of you for taking the time to read this story (Part 1 BROKE 900 NOTES!!!). I love you all so much. And as always, your feedback, likes, reblogs and comments feed the hungry muse. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

FIRST | SECOND | AO3 | FOURTH

— — —

The rest of the week passed in a horrendous blur of late nights at the station, takeaway food and a never-ending pile of case files.

Each day you and Connor worked through a pile, only for more reports to come in the next morning. It truly felt like fighting an uphill battle. But no matter how much you searched for some sort of link, a common denominator, there was nothing. Seemingly random chance but you knew that it couldn't be that simple. Deviancy was spreading at an astronomical rate throughout the city, the severity of the cases getting progressively more serious as well.

With that troubling thought in mind, you loaded another clip into your newly assigned gun, taking aim at the paper target in front of you. Holding your breath, you pulled the trigger, feeling the slight recoil of the gun as the clip emptied. Pulling down the noise cancelling headphones around your neck, you glanced at Connor who observed you silently.

“You’re a good shot,” he acknowledged with a nod before adding, “for a human.”

“Smartass.”

You couldn't help but chuckle, lazily twisting out a kink in your shoulder. He was quiet today, a troubled sort of air around him that made you invite him to target practice in the first place. It wasn’t easy to read Connor; there was a sliver of ice in his every interaction, but he had gotten better over the course of the week. Less cold and detached. Or so you thought.

Apparently, androids could have bad days too.

“What is it?” you asked gently, casting a long, searching look his way.

For a long moment, he was silent, eyes coldly focused on the bullet-ridden target. “I am frustrated with Lieutenant Anderson for not taking this investigation seriously.”

You looked away, soundlessly taking out the empty clip from the gun. “He’s not a bad man,” you pointed out carefully.

And he wasn't. It was easy to see that something haunted Hank; something was suffocating him from inside out, a deadly weight of heaviness in his every step. Whatever it was that he was going through was killing him slowly and meticulously. You could recognise that anywhere. Yes, he was harsh, and his apparent hatred for all androids was frankly ridiculous, but you didn't think he was a bad person.

Just lost. Like so many were.

“No, he is not,” Connor agreed his voice still a little tenser than you were used to, “But I do not believe that personal trauma should be allowed to impact this investigation or my mission.”

Putting the safety back on, you placed the gun back on the bench with a little more force than necessary. “Connor,” you began tightly. “Humans—we, it can be hard sometimes. We’re complicated and messy. We feel a thousand and two things at once. Sometimes we just need time and patience to find ourselves, okay? Lieutenant may still surprise you.”

You saw his jaw tick as he finally turned to look at you. It still made the nerves at the back of your neck tingle to be looked at that way; a burning, unnerving sort of focus that felt more like a physical touch. Like he was trying to touch you through a look alone. It had gotten easier to ignore, or so you told yourself shifting from one foot to another.

“I apologise,” he started a little softer, “My programming dictates that I must always try and achieve optimum success on my missions. I had not anticipated this sort of...setback.”

“We’re doing the best we can right now,” you explained simply. “Besides we haven’t actually been called in yet. Hank will have no choice but to be there if we do. Your mission is fine.”

Connor nodded thoughtfully, still processing your words as you picked up your gun once more. “Come on, you promised that you’ll turn me into a master marksman.”

Tension seemed to vanish from the sharp edges of his shoulders at your light tone. He took a measured step towards you, his fingers gripping the elbow of your shooting arm. “You should hold your arm at a slight angle, like this,” he elucidated bluntly, moving your arm accordingly. “Relax your grip until the gun fires. Statistically speaking you should be able to hit 9/10 shots this way if not under duress.”

“I don’t know many situations where you would want to fire a gun when not under duress,” you told him jokingly.

“How about now?” he questioned mildly, his eyebrows raised.

Choking down a laugh that was threatening to spill out, you elbowed him with a wry grin.

“Smartass,” you repeated with more emphasis.

The remainder of tension melted from his face at your teasing words, and just for a moment, you could have sworn you saw him smile.

—x—x—

You returned to your desk twenty minutes later, Connor diligently by your side, as you ignored the looks and the whispers that followed you both. You could still remember how others had looked at Connor on your first day here. Now those looks were directed at you both. Your involvement with him and Bob from the reception had spread through the station.

Like the fact that you didn’t treat androids like subhumans made you a social pariah to be avoided and shunned.

Frankly, you couldn't care less about narrow-minded and shallow people who didn’t bother to look beyond their own prejudices.

If that meant the closest thing you had to a friend at work—this entire city, in fact—was an android, that was fine with you. Connor was fascinating to talk to anyway, even if he still lacked social grace at times.

“Would you like me to get you a glass of water?”

Turning to look at the android in question you frowned, “You don’t have to Connor.”

The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like he had to serve you in some way. Connor tilted his head to one side in that familiar pensive manner. “Lieutenant seems to appreciate you leaving him painkillers at his desk, and taking into consideration what we discussed earlier I would like to help.”

It was true. You’ve gotten into a habit of leaving Hank aspirin for his hangovers. A glass of water was just an added touch for your own sake, watching Hank swallow those tablets dry still made you cringe inwardly. The first time he found painkillers on his desk he had turned to stare at you with a deep, troubled sort of look before grunting a forceful ‘thanks’ and taking them without another word.

You hummed under your breath, lips twitching upwards. “Only if you want to,” you told him slowly.

There was a brief but sudden flare of yellow against his temple before Connor turned away from you, heading towards the coffee area.

Staring at your computer for a long moment, you finally got to work, ignoring of other officers and detectives around you. When another five minutes passed without Connor returning, you paused, glancing towards the coffee area again. The room was barely visible from your desk but you could still see Connor inside the room, a vaguely familiar man in front of him. Even from the distance, you could read the aggressive way the man held himself, speaking something harshly. When you saw him push Connor’s shoulder hard, you nearly flew out of your chair, immediately hurrying towards the room.

Practically ripping the door open, you ignored everyone else in the room, your attention on the android, “Connor,” you called swiftly, his attention immediately turning to you. “Are you coming?”

“Well, well,” spoke a somewhat familiar voice. “Came to pick up your pet?”

You walked into the room, the door closing behind you as you turned your attention towards the person who spoke.

Of course, you thought with annoyance.

Of course, it just had to the redhead from the reception. Clearly, she had nothing better to do than to harass people and androids alike. Dismissing the scornful woman without so much as an acknowledgement, you turned your gaze towards your partner, meeting his silent look with a nod towards the door.

“Come on Connor, we’re leaving.”

The android took a step towards you but the man intervened, looking down at you with contempt.

“So you’re the one I’ve heard so much about,” the man spoke mockingly. “A friend to alll androids. I wonder what kind of human prefers the company of fucking machines to their own people. So what is it then? Do you like to fuck plastic, is that it?”

Giving the man a blank look, you purposely looked towards Connor again. “Let’s go.”

This time the android pushed past the man without a pause. A cold, terrifying sort of calm seemed to have settled on Connor’s face as he came to a stop by your side.

“What an obedient pet,” the redhead crooned and you paused, turning to look at her. She shot you a glare. “What? Am I wrong? It’s nothing.”

You could practically hear your teeth grinding painfully but you forced yourself to look away.

“Don’t turn away from me,” she snapped, taking a step forward. “I asked you a question! It’s nothing more than a machine; plastic and metal, nothing more. It’s not even alive and it never will be.”

“I don’t see why I should answer to someone who can’t even tell an animal and a person apart,” you gritted out, moving towards Connor who began opening the door.

“Person? It’ll be torn apart when its use runs out,” the man snapped in disbelief. “Maybe you’ll go cry over it when it does.”

You snubbed him again, taking a step out of the room.

“I’m not done with you.”

You felt a tight jerk on your arm, pulling you back, and that’s all it took.

Twisting around, you slammed an open palm against the man’s neck making him choke and stumble back. Your leg mercilessly crashed against his knee, bringing him down as you twisted his arm behind his back in one swift and harsh motion, slamming him against the nearest desk. You pushed his twisted arm higher, listening to his sharp exhale of pain and rage. Your other hand rested tightly against the back of his neck, your body weight holding him down.

For a moment nothing in the room stirred before the other two women moved towards you. They managed a step before you felt Connor beside you. You had no idea what they saw on his face, but they stopped immediately before taking a few stumbling steps back.

“Don’t ever mistake my kindness for weakness,” you snarled coldly. “And if you ever lay another hand on me, or Connor for that matter, I will break them.”

You twisted his hand higher and he yelped in pain, “You—I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” you countered, leaning closer to see his flushed face. “Go cry to the Captain about how someone supposedly weaker than you put you on your stomach in ten seconds after you bullied them and physically engaged first?”

The man didn’t reply, trying to wiggle out of your hold before you twisted his arm again, making him stop with a groan.

“No, I don’t think you will,” you stated more calmly. “See, I know men like you, and something tells me that your fragile little ego wouldn't survive it.”

Giving him another shove, you stood up, almost bumping into Connor who was right behind you. His gaze was focused on the man still breathing heavily against the desk. There was nothing forgiving about the expression on his face, an almost foreign coldness shifting his muscles into something remorseless.

Ignoring everyone else in the room, you grabbed Connor’s elbow, sharply turning him toward the door. You slammed the door open, hurriedly dragging the android outside. He easily kept pace with you as you pulled him aimlessly with you. The silence between you was strained and it was only when you managed to find an empty corridor that you let go of him.

Clenching your fingers, you ignored his intense stare, pacing back and forth for a few moments.

“You’re angry,” he proclaimed suddenly with something like surprise in his voice, freezing you in your tracks.

You ran a hand through your hair; an agitated sort of gesture that made your anger spark anew.

“Yeah, yeah that’s a good observation,” you breathed harshly. “I wish I decked them all before I left. Assholes.”

“I have never observed you angry,” he supplied by the way of explanation. “You’re a highly expressive person (Name), and I have learned much from you. But anger is...unusual.”

Pure embarrassment crashed over you so quickly you almost forgot your anger. “W-What? Please tell me you’re joking.”

He gave you something that almost resembled a teasing look, “Why would I be joking? Do you suggest I rather take tips from the Lieutenant on emotional functions instead?”

Ignoring his attempt to change the subject, you leaned against the nearby wall, staring at him for a moment, “Are you okay?”

Connor turned to face you patiently, and you were momentarily caught off guard by that rebellious strand of hair on his forehead that never stayed still.

“I am an android (Name),” he began warily. “I do not feel pain. He could do no damage to me.”

“That’s not the point,” was your tight retort. “No one has the right to touch you unless you want them to. No one, not ever. Or to say those things about you regardless what you’re made of.”

Indicator flickering different colours yet again, he stared at you for a long moment before finally blinking a few times. “I see. Nevertheless, detective Reed is likely to hold a grudge from now on.”

You snorted derisively. “And I could care less. He’s nothing more than a bully.”

Together you stood in silence for a few more minutes, not saying anything but not moving either. Thankfully the silence was no longer so dense, and you felt yourself slowly beginning to relax. Exhaling quietly through the mouth, you closed your eyes, trying to force out the anger still lingering beneath your skin.

After a few moments, you finally opened your eyes, meeting Connor’s mute stare and nodded your head towards the busy station. “Coming?”

He walked up to you in silence.

“Yes,” was his mild reply. “I’m coming with you.”

—x—x—

“Okay, show me again,” you said with a laugh. “But slower. Much slower.”

Connor’s hands were graceful and fluid as he slowly twisted the coin between his fingers. You stared intently, your own coin in hand, waiting to copy his moves. Watching raptly, you balanced the coin on your fingertip before it clumsily began its journey down your hand. But just like the last few times, it got stuck between your middle and ring finger before plopping noisily on the desk.

You groaned, smothering your face in your hands. “I give up! It’s hopeless. My fingers are too dumb.”

“It’s not that,” he argued patiently. “You just need practice.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, noting the gentle crinkle around his eyes as he fiddled with his coin.

Something had changed since yesterday. If Connor had been frustrated before—how little of it he did show—today he seemed tenser. The entire morning was spent with him looking up sharply at every sudden noise or shifting whenever someone walked past your desk. You hoped that asking him to show you some of his coin tricks would distract him at least momentarily.

Lowering your hands from your face, you took a moment to really look at him.

Even though it was lunchtime at the station and there was plenty of commotion all around you, there was a sense of detachment from Connor. Like he was the one thing in this space that didn’t quite belong. It was an odd feeling considering he was hardly the only android around.

“It’s precious to you,” you spoke without realising, watching the familiar, amiable way he handled the coin.

“Precious?” he repeated slowly.

Nodding your head, you smiled faintly at him. “Yeah, precious. It’s something so dear to you, you don’t want to live without it. It invokes this feeling of, um, attachment. Like it’s really, really important to you.”

You suddenly weren’t sure what to make of his expression. There was a strange mix of pensive sort of grimness on his face. Since he was sitting on your right you couldn't see his indicator either. His fingers closed around the metal piece in his hand tightly, and you almost jumped when his attention snapped to you far too quickly to come off as human.

“Connor?” you whispered in alarm, suddenly terrified that maybe he was damaged yesterday after all.

“Hope you two are nice and rested,” a voice abruptly spoke behind you. “We just got called in.”

Turning in your seat, you blinked at Hank who was walking up to you, a case file in hand.

“That’s impossible Lieutenant,” Connor responded briskly. “I would have gotten an alert if a new case came in.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, shifting uneasily at the once again neutral and calm expression on his face.

Hank shot him an irritated look. “It just came in, genius,” he grunted stiffly. “It hasn’t been added to the database yet.”

“I see.”

Hank closed his eyes as if asking God for strength.

“Well good because it’s time to see what you two are made of.”

— — —

an: anyone else really want to know what’s the deal with Connor’s coin? I need a backstory on that asap. Part of me wants to give it a backstory myself and another part of me is like “nope, what if they do a dlc and show it??” *sigh* I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Next up we’ll have an original case (i’m nervous lol) before we start the canon stuff (and yes the timeline is wonky). Your love is, as always, greatly appreciated! <3

LOVELY PEOPLE I ❤️:

#connor x reader #connor imagine #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh connor #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #fic: eiwwyl #LOOK HOW MANY PEOPLE I HAD TO TAG I CRYYYY #THANK YOU

1K notes · View notes