don't shoot (a Detroit: Become Human fic)

prologue pt. 2

point of view: you

The day had been uneventful, the same boring cases we had every day. i had arrived late this morning, assuming my coworker would arrive late as well. i was wrong, he didn't arrive at all. i tried calling him multiple times and, after multiple failures, i decided that he probably wasn't coming in at all. this behavior wasn't new, but i still felt sorry for the old guy.

it is now well into the night, all of my coworkers have left work but i am still here. the paperwork is my least favorite part of the job, and it takes me forever to finish it. once i am finished, i stand up and stretch. i pack up all my stuff, yawning. now that i'm finally ready to leave, and seeing as I'm also the last one out, i head over to turn the lights off and lock the doors.

thinking back to this morning, and how i left in a rush just to still be late to work, i remember seeing my brother's car in the driveway. because i didn't get the chance to say hello to him, i decide to give him a quick call. he's most likely still up, even at this ungodly hour, getting high as a kite.

the phone doesn't even ring twice before i hear him quickly pick up.

"hey leo, i was just calling to check up on-" he cuts me off.

"[y/n], oh my god. oh my god. [y/n], i am so glad to hear your voice, oh my god." i pause, in the middle of unlocking my car. something in his voice tells me he's panicked, and that he isn't high.

"why? leo, why, what's wrong? are you okay?" i ask him, suddenly anxious.

his voice cracks and i hear the strain in his throat when he says, "dad's dead."

i drop everything in my arms, including the phone pressed against my ear. i drop to my knees. through the phone on the ground, i hear leo frantically repeat the name "markus," but i can't seem to process what he says. grabbing my phone, i hang up. i jump in and start my car, speeding home. at this moment, i don't give two shits about the law.

i have to know for myself.

as soon as i'm in the driveway, i fall out of the car, in an attempt to get out as fast as possible. i scramble off the wet concrete and run to the front door, leaving my car open and unattended. the automatic door screeches in her too-cheery voice, "Alarm Deactivated. Welcome Home [Y/N]." i run up the stairs, yelling through the hallway. so far, my dog is the only response i get as she trots after me, barking to go along with my screams.

first i check his room, "dad?" i cry out. with no sign of him, i stumble into my own room. neither he nor markus are anywhere upstairs. i nearly fall down the entire flight of stairs, trying to get to the main floor. i jump through the kitchen door, everything is how i left it this morning. there are dirty dishes in the sink and a now-spoiled egg carton left out on the counter.

i trip my way to the living and dining room, nearly fall into everything. nothing is out of the ordinary. the only other room in the house is my dad's studio. in the carpet, i notice many footprints, too many to be just markus. i also see two separate sets of wheel tracks. one, obviously, of my father's wheel chair. the other, i don't think i want to know.

i burst through the open door to my father's studio. the first thing i notice is a bright strip of lighting, only visible to me because of the open window curtains. a loud crack of thunder makes me cry out, clearing my head a bit more.

my gaze is brought to a blue liquid, pooled on the floor. i had only ever seen that type of liquid a few times before, the few times i had ever seen an android bleed.

an audible sob escapes my throat, but it is inaudible to me due to the intrusive pounding in my ears. my mind made it seem eerily quiet earlier, but in reality- a storm was brewing. the sounds i could hear include the rain and thunder pummeling the windows, along with the barking of my dog and the annoying twittering of the animatronic birds left on from this morning. my cries join in the array of sounds, immediately.

leo was saying something about markus.

"markus," he had said, "markus did it. it wasn't me- it wasn't me, i swear! you've got to believe me, it was markus! markus did it. markus killed our father. and now he's dead too."

my heart clenches, and all of a sudden i can't breathe. i reach out to the wall, to keep my balance, but my hand misses and i fall to the ground. i fall into the puddle of blue blood, and soon i'm soaked in it. it feels as if i'm choking on the blood that's in my hands and on my clothes. hyperventilating, i call the only person i can think of- hank anderson.

i call him as many times as i can before the blue blood on my hands gets too sticky to press the dial button. there was no answer.

i know i can't stay here, so i run outside, with my dog at my heels. the wind and the rain whip my hair and clothes all around. the rain soaks through my skin, washing away the blood of my dearest companion. i get into my car, with my pet jumping in with me, and i once again speed away from the house i used to hate, recently grew to love, and can no longer stay in.

my family has left me, but i can not be left alone right now.

i arrive at the only other home i ever knew, and quickly allowed myself in. i call for hank, but receive no reply. the only answer i do get is hank's dog, sumo. i go up to him and my own dog, and i hug them both tight, crying into their fur on my coworker's kitchen floor. when all my tears are dried up, after many hours, i fall asleep, the two dogs at my feet.

i wake up the next morning, in a bed, silently thanking my good friend.