Connor OneShots and Imagines

D - Self Harm

A/N
This story, obviously, is about self harm. If you have issues with it, I highly suggest moving to the next chapter. This is your advanced warning.

Words: 627

You slam the bathroom door closed, hyperventilating as tears start to pour out of your eyes. The final pin was pulled today at work, all your built up stress from the past few days spilling over. You fumble through the drawers of the counter mindlessly looking for that one little, red box.

That red box that held your worst enemy and best friend. The blade once long forgotten that you blindly want this very instant. You don't think about the fact that you left your front door open, or that your boyfriend, Connor, would soon realize that you aren't at work when he goes to pick you up.

"Y/N?? Are you here," Connor call from your living room, concern laced into his voice as he begins to search every room for you.

The box is found and you hold your blade in your hand, the other rolling up your sleeve with little care of how tight it sits on your upper arm. Soon, the blade presses into your skin, causing you to hiss and tremble as you feel the stress pour out from the first line. You pay no mind to Connor's footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Y/N? Please answer me," Connor says, tears beginning to threaten his own eyes.

Another line, more stress pooling down out of your arm and onto the floor. You tremble as you begin to get hold of your mind again. The grey clouds similar to the sky outside start to fade away. The only thing you could muster to say as you come to is a small "Fuck...".

Suddenly the bathroom door flies open and Connor stands in the doorway, a mix of emotions fill his face at the sight he sees. His beloved y/n, sitting on the edge of their bathtub, blood flowing out of their arm in several places.

"Connor...I can expla-"

"Y/N! Do-Do I need to call an ambulance? What happened," Connor asks, quickly dropping to your side.

"Connor! Please...just grab the bandages and let me explain," you say, hiding the blade on the other side of your leg.

Connor just nods and gathers the things required to clean up your arm. Once he begins, you sigh and try to find the right words to say.

"Connor, I don't really have...uh...the best way to release stress. I'm sure you've noticed when I get overworked," you start. Connor nods along as he keeps working. "So, when I finally go over the edge, I kind of blackout. Blindly go for anything to get the feeling away..."

Connor's eyebrows knot together, LED flashing from yellow to red over and over again. "So, like androids, humans will destroy their selves if they get too stressed?"

"Not all humans Connor. Just a few of us. Me, for instance. Though, I was doing so well to not do...this."

"There. All finished. No chance of infection right now," Connor says, standing up and holding his hands out to you. You take his hands and he pulls you into a tight embrace, "Y/N, please. Next time you feel stressed, please come let me know before you boil over like this again. I don't know how old that blade is and if it is clean. Would you give it to me?"

You stay quiet for a second before handing the blade over to him, "Yeah, I needed to get rid of these anyway. Take the whole box."

Connor smiles at you as he puts the box into his jacket pocket and walks out of the bathroom with you. You both settle on the couch, putting on your favorite movie and relaxing. Connor calls into work for you for the following day.

A/N
This is my first published oneshot. I "write" several to try to go to sleep at night and have several ideas to continue this. J out!