Detroit Become Human: Every Breath You Take (Connor x Reader)

Chapter 10: Kamski, Modern Prometheus

*I own nothing

Thank you so much, this chapter was a hell of a ride to write. Many thanks to my beta for her insight and for screaming over this with me :D I'm so excited to finally begin this insane arc.

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I slept over at Hank's for the next four days - not well, of course. We'd lounge on the couch, staring listlessly at the TV, seeing our own episodes of Connor instead. Sometime during those nights we lost to sleep, and were only pulled from its clutches with the blaring alarm on my phone. Neither of us could bear to imagine what was happening to Connor. Every time my mind wandered it always returned to those elevator doors, sealing my friend away from my outstretched hands. My dreams replayed it in a much more dramatic fashion, as dreams tend to do.

What my subconscious was trying to achieve with those dreams, I couldn't say. It was the only time I could hear Connor's voice as clearly as if it were yesterday; the only time I could look into his eyes and see that uncertainty, determination, and regret, all in one little angsty bow.

While awaiting Connor's return, Hank and I worked separately at the station. I was often dispatched for patrol. I think Fowler recognized the bitter, hollowed look on the Lieutenant's face, reminiscent of the days following the crash that robbed Cole's life from this earth.

Fowler hadn't reprimanded me for not answering his call after Markus had infiltrated the Stratford tower, choosing instead to simply order that I do all the case files I could. He did, however, call Hank to his office first thing this morning. As far as anyone could tell, Hank wasn't in for a yelling match. The man was sitting in the chair before Fowler's desk, looking worn out and apathetic. No-one had bothered him before that, not even Gavin - perhaps he did have a good bone somewhere in his body.

As for me, Gavin had started off as his usual self, aggressive and curt, until he'd gotten one clear look at me. After three days of this, he decided to stop glaring at me from across the room and confront me. Joy. He strolled over to my desk, setting down a mug of tea. "There's no ketchup in it - yet," he said.

"That's not very convincing," I said, nursing the mug between my hands. Its warmth melted away the chill that had seeped down to my bones.

Snow fell heavier each day, signaling the beginning of the DPD's annual parking warfare. Gavin lived for this. He'd gun it to the DPD to get the best spot, to avoid the inevitable trouble exiting the lot following the snowstorms November was cooking up. It'd been funny, at first. He was so gung-ho about it, it was like nothing else mattered but that sweet empty spot next to Fowler's. Until his tires had slipped over a really big patch of ice, and he'd nearly mowed me over as I'd been walking to my own car. Now I stayed far away from the parking lot at this time of year, choosing to walk to work or take a taxi instead.

Gavin planted his ass onto my desk, resting his coffee on his knee. I recalled the day at the hospital when he'd come to visit me in Hank's stead. He raised the mug to his lips.

"You have a weird way of showing affection, you know," I told him. "Like a cat."

Gavin spat his mouthful back into his cup in surprise. "Sorry, you're not my type lady. You have, like, zero boobs."

"Denial only makes it worse," I said, quoting Chris. He'd pulled that on me when I'd come to terms with my feelings for Connor.

Connor.

My shoulders slumped and an ugly knot of worry tightened within me. It seemed to trigger some kind of remorse in Gavin. "Hey, look...I know I'm an ass. And maybe you're not completely flat, okay? Just maybe."