Detroit: Staying Human || A "Detroit: Become Human" Fanfiction

Chapter 1: October 17, 2035

  Norah cuddled five-year-old Jackson to her side as they stood under the protection of an old umbrella, the only thing shielding them from the unrelenting and merciless weather. She tilted it a little to the right so the boy stayed nice and dry while she felt the heavy drops of rain begin to soak through her shoes. They were her favorite pair, as well.

  At that moment, trivial matters such as ruining her only pair of comfortable heels were quickly forgotten as she kept a close eye on the man who refused to step away from the freshly dug grave. The little casket had already been lowered into the earth and most of the mourners had already left, but Norah couldn't find the strength to part from where she stood.

  The canopy that was set up for the graveside service was still there, but she couldn't find the nerve to enter again. If Jackson were not with her, she wouldn't have even accepted the third offer when other mourners ushered people in for shelter from the rain, but she didn't want to risk him catching a cold. So, the well-meaning couple that pressed together to clear a space for them brought her and Jackson closer to the grieving family.

  She had tried to convince Jackson to stay home with his siblings, but he refused. The poor boy was on the verge of a mental breakdown when she first told him that she was going alone. She sometimes forgot the rare maturity he had somehow inherited for his age. After he begged her to let him go, she couldn't deny his only request. If the roles were reversed, she'd do anything to be there for her best friend's family.

  Little Cole Anderson was Jackson's best friend ever since pre-K. Their strong bond amazed both Norah and the Andersons when they still chose to play and spend time together after the first few weeks of school. They were inseparable from the very start...Until now.

  As Jackson wrapped an arm around Norah's upper legs and rested his head on her hips, Norah stared at the ground around the grieving father's feet. Lieutenant Anderson was always the most energetic character she had ever met. Seeing him so...broken...she simply couldn't process it. He just stood there, drenched from head to toe, and stared down into the six-foot-deep hole in the earth.

  Jackson lifted his head enough to gaze up at Norah with watery eyes. "We should go over there with Mr. Hank. He's really sad."

  Norah gently pressed a finger against her lips, gesturing for him to keep his voice down, and rubbed his shoulder. "I don't know, Jax. I think we should leave him be for now." She said in a faint whisper for only Jackson to hear.

  Jackson's little eyebrows furrowed together as he contemplated Norah's words. He rubbed his eye and sniffled as he continued to watch Lieutenant Anderson for a moment longer. "Please? I really wanna give him a hug."

  Norah peeled herself away from the boy and took his hand, leading him back to a more private corner of the cemetery. There was a small, concrete bench along the walkway that was free from any passerbys. Norah took Jackson there and wrapped him tight against her side as a few tears spilled over Jackson's eyelids and began to stream down his fair cheeks.

  "W-we need to talk to him...f-friends don't let friends be s-sad alone, r'member? That's what you always s-say!" Jackson's breath hitched and caught in his throat as his tears began to build.

  She felt his little shoulders twitch as sobs began to rack his body. Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she burrowed her cheek on top of his shaggy curls. She wished for an escape for the pain her little boy was feeling, but she knew this was something he was going to have to experience. It would stay with him for the rest of his life, but eventually, as he got older, he would learn to make room for the pain. Until then, she was there to caress the anxiety and kiss the sorrow away for as long as possible.

  "I know, baby, I know," she paused to glance up at Hank once again. Someone else had the same idea in mind when they came and gently placed their hand on his shoulder in an effort to express their condolences. Hank didn't move an inch. He didn't even tear his gaze away from Cole's grave.

  "Sometimes, no matter how much you want to help them, people just...need to feel things. Sometimes people need to be alone when they're sad. You can still let them know you're there for them when they need a friend, but it's important to know when to let them...get used...to their new life..." She tried her best to explain it to him in a way any five-year-old boy would understand, but Jackson wasn't like most five-year-old boys.

  Sniffling, Jackson snuggled his chilled body closer against Norah's side. "But sometimes people just say they want to be alone when they really don't. How do we know when is really the best time to leave them alone? What if they're just too sad to ask for help?"

  Everyday Jackson surprised her with how grown-up he and his bleeding heart were. Today was no different. She was at a loss for words as she hugged his shoulders and wiped his tears away with her fingertips.

  "I...I don't know, baby. I suppose it depends on how close you are to that person...how well you know each other and when they're not being honest."

  Jackson considered this as a gust of wind chilled him down to the bone. He watched Hank solemnly grieve the loss of his only child with a mixture of childlike curiosity and an understanding well beyond his years.

  "Do you think Mr. Hank will ever be happy again? Do you think someone can help him be happy? Maybe even someone to be his new family?"

  Norah couldn't even begin to imagine the anguish Hank's entire being was in right now. She hoped and prayed that she would never find out. Yet, Jackson's words sent chills down her spine as she thought about what the days ahead had in store for Hank and his, now, empty home. She couldn't imagine Hank being alone, but things were different now. Hank was different now.

  "I...I-I don't...know, baby," she whispered faintly and hated the hopelessness she felt lingering behind in her words after they were lost in the wind. "I sure hope so."