Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Partners

November 5th, 2038
PM 11:04:05

It'd been a long three months.

The tedious physical therapy sessions; having to be re-certified for your pistol master ribbon, having to adjust to your new, literal, partner in crime - Chris Miller. Having to act ecstatic for him when his newborn arrived.

It wasn't that you weren't happy for him and his family. They'd even had you over for dinner, once. Chris wasn't a bad guy. One of the best you'd ever met, actually.

The problem was...you couldn't stop thinking about your old partner.

Your best friend since childhood who signed up with you. Moved to Detroit with you. Left everything behind in your hometown because he didn't have anything tying him down to the place except you.

Dead in an instant. Gone forever. That night in August haunted your dreams.

Daniel's angry shouts. The child's frantic screaming. Your partner pushing you out of the way, and his body going cold. The second shot that almost took you out when you charged ahead...

Connor was the good ending to that tragic tale. A hero who'd shown bravery where fragile men failed. He who, against all odds, saved the hostage. Maybe one day, you'd get to thank him for breaking his protocols and saving you, too.

"Hey, you good?"

You turned your chin, looking at Chris in the driver's seat.

"Yeah, just thinking..."

"About?"

You sighed, "These deviant cases are popping up by the dozens. Missing androids, deviants killing their owners...You know, when I was promoted to homicide, I didn't think I'd be chasing down murder machines."

"You're telling me..." Chris flicked the windshield wipers to the highest speed, "Hey, you called it, though. You've been saying for a long time they'd 'rise against.'"

"Just remember you're not supposed to know about that." You smirked, "Could cost me my job."

"After what happened to you? I'm just surprised you're still writing an android-activist blog...I mean, sure, an android saved you, but..."

You looked back out the window, heavy rain streaking down the glass. The lights on top of the car blinked red and blue, just like the two types of blood that'd stained your uniform on the rooftop terrace. Yeah, Connor saved you, and the little girl. But others had died. You definitely hadn't forgot about that. It kept you up at night, and you wore the dark circles to prove it.

"Sorry." Chris mumbled, "I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay." You put your strong face on, the one you'd perfected, "Let's just get to this crime scene so we can pack up and go home."

"What, hot date?"

"Yeah, with a bottle of wine and my laptop."

He laughed, "Sounds like a perfect night to me."

Yeah...

It'd been a long three months, alright.

And it was about to be an even longer night.

...

Carlos Ortiz, an obese man with stab wounds all over him. A message written in blood, one that shouted, "I AM ALIVE," in perfect font. A murder weapon. Packets of Red Ice on a cluttered table. Beer bottles and cigarette butts that served as a carpet on the planks-and-nails for a floor.