Connor x Reader !ONESHOTS!

☆☂RK900 - Ghost Handprints - PRT 1☂☆

 TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of rape.
(Normally I wouldn't be comfortable with writing this, but it was a request.)

Patience is a funny thing. Even people who seem to have infinite amounts of it will someday succumb to the snap of irritation, its just a matter of time. You were someone so patient, it felt like nothing in the world could make you crack. Sure, things could upset you, but never to the point where you would fight back aggressively without hesitation. You were the type of person that cried instead of shouted, and it was way too easy for others to get comfortable around the idea of pushing you around. However, everyone has a limit. It doesn't matter if you're the most patient, kind, forgiving, and/or soft person in the world. It just takes a special type of person to strike the right cords...

...and Conan was that person.

The feeling of his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist made you wince. His unforgiving icy blues bore into your soul, freezing you in your place. No matter how hard you tugged, you knew Conan's grip wouldn't loosen. Knowing this, you give up and stare back at him. Your e/c eyes were as wide as saucers as you stared back into the orbs of a furious bull. You knew this couldn't possibly end well.

"Y/n," Conan started. You winced at the sharpness of your android partner's voice. It was angry, venomous, and merciless.

"I'm so livid with you right now, I can't even see straight! You and your pathetic lack of experience in this line of work is driving me completely mad! All you had to do was shoot! All you had to do was just shoot the fucker in the leg so we can catch and arrest him! But you. You hesitated like a deer in headlights! You asked for this job, detective! Wake the hell up, this isn't sunshine and rainbows. This isn't fun and goofy like Scooby Doo, far from it! You have to do risky shit, that's what it's like to be a detective. Do. Your. Fucking. Job." Conan jabbed his index finger into your chest aggressively to accentuate his anger. Each word felt like a hammer to your heart, and all you could do was sit there and take it- no.

A grim look flashed across your face as silence cut through the tense air between the two of you. No words came out of your mouth in response to Conan. You didn't want to speak, because you knew that if you did, it would be venomous. There were no movements in your body language to indicate frustration, sadness, guilt, nothing. Just a cold, dead, tense silence. You couldn't take it. Conan must have been a guitar player because damn did he strike the right cord. Your body began to shake, you tried to hold back the impending anger but your attempts were fruitless.

It was only then that you broke the silence. A dark, dry chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, knowing that after years of silence, Conan had done it. He broke you.

"Why are you still standing outside with me? You proved your point, so what are you still doing here? Do you want a response? Is that it? Because I'll give you a response you're never going to forget, tin can." You hissed as the upper corner of your lip raised into a snarl.

"I'm sorry I hesitated to shoot, but not because it'd help the mission. No, no. I couldn't give a fuck about arresting that man. Maybe it's a good thing I didn't shoot, because if I did? That bitch would have a gaping hole right through his fucking forehead! And what good would a dead hostage be?"

You finally met Conan's eyes, and you could feel the android shutter a bit under your intense gaze. You relished that feeling. You were drowning in the ecstasy that came with scaring Conan the way he scared you every time you messed up. You wanted him to shake and cry and apologize the way you did to him. What has this android done to you?

"I don't look anything like Hank, as I'm sure you've noticed. I know I don't look like him, but good lord do I wish I did! Just generally speaking, I wish I had a sliver of Hank's genes, but that can never happen. I can't. I'm adopted. That man on the roof was a good friend of my bio dad. You'd think that after all these years I'd forget that man's face, but you'd be wrong. I'll never forget the face of the man who saw my seven-year-old body as an open door. I howled, I kicked, I fought, I screamed but who would hear me, eh? My druggie dad? My deadbeat mom? Hah." You pause, yanking your wrist out of Conan's grip that was loosened from shock. You fold your arms over your chest and stare him down, making sure he knew you weren't done tearing him to shreds yet.

"I want that man dead. I always have since that day, because maybe then the ghost handprints all over my body would go away. Except, when you actually get the chance to put a bullet through the man's skull, it's an interesting emotion to feel. The man who stole my childhood is right there in front of me, and I have a gun. Despite all my anger and hatred towards him, despite all the trauma he's given me?... I didn't shoot. All I could do was freeze. Pathetic, isn't it?"

You hadn't told this story to anyone, even so, you were too caught up in your emotions to register what you were telling Conan. You didn't even realize the tears streaming down your face in anger and sadness. All you could do was continue your mindless ramble.

"Are you satisfied, Conan? Now you know everything. Do you feel proud? Informed? Accomplished? Well, I sure hope so you prideful, self-centered, hellish son of a gun! I wish I never met you!" You cry. You turn away from Conan to tear yourself from him. Despite everything you just admitted to the android, all he could do was sit in shock as you slammed your front door in his face.