Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

The Raven

November 8th, 2038
PM 12:01:02

Winds howled outside, fluttering a white curtain of snow against the window.  The squalls came and went, blinding and clear – trapping a black bird in their currents.  It glided in place, wings locked and steady – waiting for a moment to break free...and when the gusts subsided, it made its way to the icy pine needles it called home.

The spaces between tiles served as an irrigation system for the Thirium draining from the once-colorless carpet.  It emptied at the edge of the pool, tainting the water in a purple cloud that blossomed like a flower...one that would never wither...

Blue pedals saturated the rug, stemmed in soggy fibers around the android who'd committed suicide.

Your copy.  Your clone.

Chloe.

A play on words you'd thought was clever when Elijah had coined it.

He said he hadn't been able to capture your fire, that which burned him one too many times.  He had.  You realized you'd had more in common with her than you previously believed.

You'd killed yourself once to gain freedom, in a metaphysical sense.  You felt your soul bleed out on multiple occasions, shaving off each limb the monsters caught in the darkness.

Having it reenacted in a physical interpretation was a performance you could've lived without, forever.

Sounds were submerged in your thoughts.  Yelling, your name whispered next to you, all of it – they were blips of sonar pulses on your radar that shook your ears.  But you didn't hear any of it.

Two Chloe's, the pair from the pool, surrounded the bleeding corpse.  They were wearing nothing but blue bikinis, their bodies exposed and smudged with the Thirium of their counterpart.  They hoisted their deceased friend, dragging her to the right – your revolver leaving a damp thud as it landed in liquified sapphires that marked a bloody aftermath.

Your body was limp as your arm was tossed over a shoulder, a gentle touch at your back.  His voice was too close, and his message – too crisp for misinterpretation.

"You shouldn't have done that, Lieutenant.  She's injured with blunt trauma from a gunshot wound."

Connor.

"She was about to blow his fuckin' head off!  What did you want me to do, let her ass rot in jail?  She's not even supposed to be here..."

Hank.

Silence...

Elijah.

He was standing at the observation pane, his hands to his front as he watched the storm come and go.

You embraced the numbness.  Let it protect you from the elements.  Used it to detach yourself from the support system that came as two men who'd shared professions, yet handled themselves very differently.

Their bickering ceased as you took your first step forward.

You stood next to your ex-husband, the twice-named "Man of the Century" who'd fallen from a mighty height – a fall you'd broken with your very being.  Had sat next to while you were both shattered; sifting through the pieces in order to rebuild yourselves without any sliver of one another.

You both had failed.  There had been too much history reflecting in those shards.

For a moment, you saw the old him.  The one who cared, the bright artificial intelligence engineer that wanted to revolutionize society for the greater good.  If he was still in there, maybe he saw the old you, too. Maybe you could find her.