Danger Close

Pause - pt.2

This is back at the Reader's perspective.

Of all the stupid things you have done in the past, this was probably up there in the top 10.

Probably, from what you could remember.

The initial thought process on coming to the Police Station was the stupidly naive hope that your cooperation would give them the help they needed. A conversation you had with Connor spurred that thought. You weren't exaclty sure when the conversation happened, but key moments in various interactions with Connor had you practically choosing to step outside your comfort zone.

Each decision always seemed to involve some stupid interaction with Connor somehow. What the hell was up with that?

White walls in front of you held a glossy and clinical look. The bench you sat on was also uncomfortable, but that was to be expected from a 'holding cell'. The interrogation and questioning from a few minutes ago went poorly, but at least The Lieutenant showed some compassion and let you recouperate in detainment.

It looked familiar, now that you thought about it. The blank walls, and tiny room, and the lack of sound coming from the obviously-bustling office outside. Kind of like a vaccuum, the only ambience in the room around you being silence.

If you had been in this cell before, then it only added to the growing dread of your failing memory. You pulled your hands up in front of your face and inspected your hands, moving each individual finger while glancing at the blank wall.

There was a burn on your hand, or at least the scar of one. How did you get such a bad scald on your palm? The discomfort of taut scar-tissue had you dropping your arms into your lap again before you tipped your head back and looked at the ceiling. That movement alone left an aching sensation over your shoulder, your arm immediately lifting up in response.

A bad shoulder too?

Rolling the pained limb, you glanced towards your wounded side, eyes immediately catching the distant figure of someone outside the white frame of the Holding Cell.

"Hello," he commented, a few moments of silence passing as you simply stared at each other.

Oh. It was Connor.

"Hello," you responded with a tightness in your voice, your wounded arm dropping once more into your lap. Now wasn't the best time for conversation, but from what you did remember with him, he might try to ask you again.

Wasn't the Interrogation already enough?

"I've been here before, haven't I?" You cut the silence with the question, your eyes looking around the light blue markings on the glass before meeting his gaze.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Connor responded with his eyebrows knitting together with some kind of concerned expression.

You squinted your eyes with a frown at his remark, almost spitting back a response that was nothing short of impatient.

"No, it wasn't." You chided with your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn't something you particularly expected Connor to say, but it still felt rather unecessary to be asked.

A stupid question, even.

"Never mind," you sucked in a breath and held it, looking back at the wall ahead of you with a frown.