Time Heals

Crybabies

Connor sat on the kitchen floor with his head tucked into his knees, unable to do anything but cry. He couldn't help find Cole or comfort Hank; he couldn't even bring himself to clean the glass and blood from the floor. He was useless. He wished that Sumo would come over to comfort him as he had done before, but the dog just stood by the front door awaiting the return of his masters. His sad whines were only pushing Connor further into his sorrow.

Saline reserves 0.05%.

The warning on his HUD blurred as more tears fell. Once his reserves were empty, his body would begin to divert his precious thirium in substitution, and he couldn't let that happen. He tried to take deep breaths to dull the ache he felt inside, but his dark thoughts were too strong.

You ruined everything. Now Cole's out there all alone. He could be killed by some rogue deviant or by some trigger happy human, and it would be all your fault. They let you into their home, and you destroyed it. He brought his hands to his head, clawing at his temple and digging his nails in so hard it broke through his skin and dug into his plastic frame. Hank will never forgive you for this. You should just go walk into the nearest camp right now and—

His thoughts stopped, and his thirium pump misfired when he heard soft thumping sounds coming from Cole's room. His limbs were incapable of 'falling asleep' the way humans did, but he was experiencing something similar as his knees and ankles were weak and unsteady as he stood up.

When he opened Cole's door, his sensors noted a significant change in temperature. This was due to the window over Cole's bed being fully open, the air from the outside and flakes of snow rushing into the room. Cole was standing in front of his open closet, shoving different articles of clothing into a backpack. When Connor scanned the boy, he was relieved to see he was unharmed, with the exception of some cold exposure to his feet, but thankfully there was no sign of frostbite.

Cole turned around, his face turning into a vicious glare at the sight of him. "Get out of here, tinman," he growled as he turned back to shove a sweatshirt into the bag.

"Cole, I'm so, so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen. I honestly didn't know you didn't know."

"I SAID GET OUT," he screamed as he grabbed a basketball trophy off his bookshelf and hucked it at Connor's head. This time Connor's reflexes were more responsive, and he was able to stop the projectile right as the little plastic athlete was inches from his face.

"Cole, please," he said as he placed the trophy down on the desk next to him. Cole ignored his pleas as he ripped his phone charger from the wall and crammed it in his bag. "What can I do to make this right?"

"You want to know what you can do? You can get out of here," the boy said sternly as he pointed towards the door. Connor felt his thirium pump misfire, and for a moment he worried it wouldn't start up again. "Seriously, you've been nothing but trouble since you got here."

"Okay, okay I'll go," he said, putting his hands up to his chest and slowly backing up towards the door." All I want is for you and your dad to be happy," he whimpered as he turned to leave the bedroom and slowly walked down the hall. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to be forced into one of the camps. He didn't want to die, but there was nowhere safe for him now. Maybe he could find a nice quiet bridge to hide under until his thirium froze over. The only thing that kept the tears from falling was knowing that if he left, Cole would stay. He would never be part of the Anderson family, but at least he could keep it from breaking apart. He was reaching for the handle of the front door when he heard Cole speak once more.

"Connor, wait." Connor felt a burst of warmth rush over him. He smiled widely as he turned around, but the boy was still giving him that cold, angry look. His arms were crossed over his chest. "My dad's gonna want that sweatshirt back."