Just a MACHINE | Connor X OC / Reader Detroit: Become Human

Chapter Twenty-Three | Offense.

Sam’s POV

Connor soothed me to sleep as he rubbed my stomach lightly with his thumb; but minutes later there was a loud pounding on the door that scared me half to death.

I jumped up in a panic, and seen Connor holding his gun up.

I walked to the door, and looked through the peephole.

“Who is it?” Connor asked in a whisper.

“I-It's my dad..” My eyes widened, and I quickly stepped away from the door.

“What-What do I do, Connor?”

His LED was yellow as he came up with a plan. “I'll hide. Try to make as much conversation as you can, and if he tries anything; I'll come out, got it?”

I nodded, and whispered out a shaky ‘yes.’

“Just stay calm, alright? I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you..” I blushed and watched as Connor hid in the closet; leaving the door open a small crack.

I took in a deep breath, then finally opened the door.

Here goes nothing.

I opened the door with a look that could probably tear through the devil, and folded my arms.

“What do you want from me??”

“I wanted to see you. Alone.” He replied.

“So you try to kidnap me??? I could totally call the cops right now. Or better yet, I could handcuff you right here, right now, then bring you down to the station myself.” I said with a snarky tone.

He chuckled and shook his head before he spoke.

“I can’t have a peaceful conversation with my daughter?? I’m alcohol-free now, can’t we just talk for a minute?” He talked slowly, as if I would attack at any moment. I pushed my mouth to the side, then stepped away from the door.

Before he sat on the couch, I quickly stopped him, then grabbed a garbage bag.

“What’s that for?” He asked.

“So you can sit down.” I laid the bag on the couch, and patted the plastic. “Nice and cozy.”

He sat on the bag, and looked at the floor awkwardly. I sat in the recliner diagonal from him, then finally spoke up.

“So, what did you want so badly to talk to me about, that you had to attempt to kidnap me?” I asked. He looked at me as if I had just offended his mother, then looked down at the floor again.

“I didn’t mean to… Hurt your mother.” He said. My blood boiled.

“Hurt? Hurt?! She’s dead, dad-- I mean, Turner. If you loved her, you wouldn’t have killed her! If you had any sane bone in your body, you wouldn’t have killed her! You--”

“It was an accident, Sammie. I was really drunk, and it was building up for a long time--”

It was my turn to interrupt him this time.

“One: don’t fucking interrupt me. Two: don’t call me ‘Sammie’ ever again, and Three: don’t make up excuses! Why would it have been building up? What could she have done that was so bad??” He seemed taken aback by my words, but responded anyway.

“I knew you guys were planning to run away. Even the first time. She wanted to protect you, and I understood why; but I could never hurt you. She, however, is a different story. She wanted to run away because I found out about her affairs. She cheated on me, many times with Elijah Kamski. That fucking big-shot mother fucker.” He looked into my eyes as he spoke, and I almost felt sorry for him.