Detroit: Become Human~-~Connor One-Shots

(Request) Blind

Prompt: Do you think you could do a "Depressed reader x Connor"? please?

Connor and the reader have been working for a few weeks, but Connor senses that something is wrong with the reader, as they always wear long sleeves during hot weather, and have heavy bags underneath their eyes. One day he goes to check on them in their house, only to see them trying to commit suicide..

WARNING(S): depression, self-harm, attempted suicide

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It's amazing how blind people can be to others' pain. You wanted to say it surprised you, but after how long you'd been suffering, how many times you'd asked for help in your own way, how little people acknowledged you, you accepted the fact that nobody cared.

You felt you weren't good enough, that the world would be better off without you. When something went wrong on a case you blamed yourself, thinking if you hadn't been assigned to it they could've caught the culprit by now. You didn't measure up to everyone else.

You stared down at your sleeves, the only thing hiding your scars from the world. You had to wonder if you showed everyone what you did to yourself every night would they even care? Of course not, they'd just think I'm trying to get attention.

Your hand subconsciously played with your sleeve as your eyes wandered around to your colleagues. Nobody spared you a glance, nobody acknowledged your existence, nobody cared. Then your eyes landed on an android. Connor smiled at you. You looked down; he's just being friendly, that's what androids have to do.

Footsteps approached you and you looked up to see Connor now in front of your desk. "Good afternoon Officer (L/N)," he said brightly. He knew your name?

"Hi Connor." You forced your lips into a smile; it hurt your cheeks.

"I noticed you have what you humans call bags under your eyes. Did you get enough sleep last night?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah." Lie. You stayed up late crying until you drained yourself enough to fall into a restless slumber. He frowned but didn't question your lie.

"And you're wearing long sleeves. It's 97 degrees outside (36 degrees celsius), all of the other officers are wearing t-shirts and shorts."

"I didn't notice." False. You were sweating pretty bad but refused to show any more skin. His frown deepened.

"Why are you lying to me?" There was no way he'd care, not if other humans didn't. He was designed to solve mysteries and you were the next one in his long list.

You crossed your arms and rested them on your desk. "It doesn't matter." I don't matter.

"I am worried for your health." He leaned down to get eye level with you. "Please tell me why your estrogen levels are so low."

You pushed away from him. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He knew you were lying, you knew he knew, but you also knew this was part of his programming (or so you thought).

"Yes." There was a pause before he stood up straight.

"Well have a good rest of your day Officer (L/N)." He shot you one more smile before turning and walking away.

She said she was fine, but it was clear to anyone who scanned her she wasn't. Connor didn't understand why she refused to tell him; maybe it was the work environment and she didn't want to tell him in front of her coworkers. He decided to talk to her tonight at her house where noone else could hear. Perhaps she'd confide in him then.

So after work Connor asked Hank if he could drop him off at (Y/N)'s house. Hank just shook his head but did as Connor asked. What his android wanted to do with you he couldn't care less about, he was just happy to get Connor out of his hair for a little bit.

Connor knocked on your door, but when you didn't answer, he grew concerned and went looking for a good window to break. He peeked inside one to see you with a gun in your hands, the barrel pressed against your forehead. Your eyes were closed but tears leaked out making tracks down your face. You were ready to die, you just needed to pull the trigger.

Glass breaking, a thud of something heavy hitting the floor, and suddenly the gun was taken from you and thrown across the room. You were pulled into someone's embrace.

"Let go of me," you cried, trying to pull away from them. They held you tighter.

"You should've told me," a soft voice you recognized said. You stilled. "I'm sorry for not realizing your suffering sooner, if I had I would've done everything in my power to prevent this from happening."

"You don't understand," you said, your voice breaking, "what it's like."

"Then tell me." Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he acting like he cared? Why did he want to understand? "You don't have to, I understand that is your personal business, but I am here if you need someone to listen." This was too good to be true. You looked him in the eyes as another tear rolled down your cheek.

"Why won't you let me end it?"

"Because I don't let people I care about die."

A/N: Short, I know, but I wanted to keep it somewhat realistic (I know it wasn't good but I tried). If you're struggling with anything and need someone to talk to, I'm all ears. You won't be bugging me, promise. Please please please talk to someone! If not me than someone else you trust. People will miss you if you kill yourself; you may not think so now but I know I'll be one of them. You matter. I love all of you!