Comfort Zone (Connor x Reader)

Ten

Keys still in hand, you knew the polite thing to do would be to invite the men inside. "... so my apartment is terrible right now. And... I'd ask you to come inside, but I also don't want you to see."

Taking a look around the complex and the neighborhood beyond, Hank could count at least a dozen places where someone had gotten shot. "I think I'd feel better if we were with you. Not that you don't know your way around a gun, it's just... fuck downtown."

He had a point. You frowned but nodded, unlocking the door so everyone could enter.

The apartment itself was small to begin with, but since you were alone, it was sufficient. While you pretended nothing was out of the ordinary, the other two couldn't help but notice the lack of... belongings.

[This cannot be it. My scanning is functional, yet I'm not seeing much of anything here.]

"If you two wouldn't mind, could you please get my bed set up?" You stood in the tiny kitchen area, a small-ish box on the counter. "I'm not weak, but two people have an easier time with stuff."

Nodding, the lieutenant squeezed his partner's shoulder and retreated to the bedroom to at least start. Connor stayed back, watching you go through the small box without much motivation. A thousand questions flew through his system, but he didn't know where to start.

Soft footsteps made you stop, not surprised at the hand on your shoulder. "... if you still want to apologize, please don't. The more it's said, the less effective it becomes. Now if you want to make it up to me instead... that'd be okay."

"I only want to know the chain of events that led you to this end." The weight of his hand on your shoulder was pleasant, so you turned to face him carefully to avoid it being removed. "I will not pity you. Very few want pity. But I do politely request some context, Detective."

The sigh from your lungs was loud. "It's... a long and kind of painful story, Connor. But to chop it up into a quick summary for today's episode... I lost money, ended up homeless, and had to rely on people just to get me here."

"Homeless." For some reason that fact in particular stuck. "... no wonder you ended up here. This is... more than just dangerous."

"It's also more than I can afford. I wouldn't have wanted to live here if I had another option, but I don't think I'd be taken as seriously if I didn't at least get some kind of shelter." Closing your eyes, your head lowered a little. "What I have here was either shipped with what little cash I had, what my friends were able to give me, or just... sent to try and help by the Chief back home."

You didn't have anything in the way of furniture to sit on, so the two of you hopped up on the counter. There was no room for anything else; the box was pushed back. "The Chief of Police in Buffalo, you mean?" You nodded. "... how much did you leave behind?"

"Friends. Family. Amazing job. More amazing partner. Probably a ton of personal belongings that don't matter, but had sentimental value. Like I said, I don't have much here, but what I did keep were things that made me feel at least a little better."

All your attitude masked the shitty living situation. Connor eyed your expressions as you spoke, knowing that while you definitely still had an attitude, it had been subdued. He was seeing a more realistic side of you. "Am I safe in assuming that the next several paychecks will be going towards some kind of comfort? Somewhere to..." He gestured to the nearly-barren living room. "... sit?"

Looking towards him, you offered a wry smile. "When you're poor, you don't worry so much about that. It'll go towards food, bills, necessities..." You shrugged. "At least I have a bed."

[And very little else...]

Trying to remain gentle, Connor got to his feet and gave his crooked little smile. "I should assist Hank, I will return." Once he'd joined his partner, the android knelt down to help. ".... Hank," he whispered.

"How bad is it?" the human whispered right back.

"This is her only piece of furniture." Given a look of disbelief, the android shook his head. "It was this or the streets. She'd been homeless, what's here is what she could manage."

The bed wasn't difficult to assemble, but two people did make the process smoother. Hank ran a hand down his face, still whispering. "She's too proud to ask for help, and she'll reject whatever we try. But we gotta get her out of this place."

Making himself somewhat useful, Connor went about organizing the handful of boxes in the bedroom. The clothes had been hung up, though what belonged in a dresser remained in a box. He lifted another, but the contents were so packed that the tape didn't hold it shut.

The first item inside had thrown him for a loop: it was orange and white and very fuzzy. Lifting it curiously, it turned out to be a fat, plush corgi. Poking through the rest of the box only showed more cute corgi-related items.

[... she collects these.]

[... what I did keep were things that made me feel at least a little better...]

The plush was replaced and the box closed with the tape, though it would absolutely open on its own again. "... I may have come up with an idea, Hank," the android spoke up, tearing himself away from the corgi-filled box. "She said that she did not want another apology from me... but would accept if I did something to make up for what I said."

Head tilting from side to side, Hank thought it over. "That's an idea, but finding a better place is way too much for just a favor like that."

Frowning deep, Connor glanced around the room. There was another box labeled "Supplies", but he couldn't fathom what sort of supplies you would need. "...... I have nearly all of my money in an account, Hank. Knowing it is sitting there unused while I look around at where a talented detective has to live..."

Though he did nod a bit at first, the lieutenant realized that this might have been what they needed. "... So, Connor. I know this is really, really soon, but... you need to move out and get your own damn apartment."