Detroit: Become Human - Connor RK800 One Shots

#11 More

Heya lovelies, I'm back. Sorry it took so long for another update, school is to blame again. And I know that this isn't a request this update because my brain is going through a time where it's just doing it's own thing really. Some ideas just come easily and some days I have none at all. But I hadn't had enough motivation to write a full one shot, until this little thing came to mind a few weeks ago. It's another hecking sad one, just to pull on the heartstrings again (hopefully lol). Anyway, I'm trying to get back into writing something for y'all, so keep on the lookout! I love every single one of you and remember to stay safe (especially because of Covid 19 at the moment),

- bee xoxo

No one knows the definition of 'living hell' until you're stuck in it. No one knows the definition of trauma until you've experienced it. No one knows the definition of tragedy until you're drowning in it. No one knows the definition of betrayal until you're served it on a silver platter. No one knows the definition of pain until you've been staked by it. No one knows the definition of heartbreak until your heart's been broken.

These words were those in which Connor lived by, this endless cycle of torture. Daily life wasn't life anymore, it was a daily dose of venom set for a slow kill. For over a month he spent on Hank's couch, suffering, wondering what in hell he did to deserve what he got. The only thing he could comprehend were her last words and the knowledge they were over. There was no her and Connor, nor there was Connor and her. He had happiness, now the added two letter prefix came into use. Unhappiness wasn't the correct adjective though, melancholy would have fit the gap better. What had he done wrong? He couldn't think back to a single time where he mistreated her or left her to the wolves like she did to him. Was it really his fault? He didn't even know what he had done, how could it be over just like that? Sure, his first relationship since deviancy was a bit of a bumpy ride, but whose first relationship wasn't? He'd adapted quickly to his human partner's behaviours and habits and didn't complain once. So why was he alone?

"There's just nothing more you can provide me," he repeated her words for the millionth time since she left, trying to decode and decipher every aspect of it. But to no avail. "Humans fall in and out of love all the time, I'm not one of them! I would have loved her until death took her hand away from me! What could I not provide her? Was undying love not enough?" he asked the stale air, slouching further down on the sofa. This was the hour of the night where Connor's depression peaked its highest. The hour where he got unnecessarily vocal about his pain. Hank was over his whining and had been after two weeks. He was in the kitchen, the same moment Connor was rambling his woes aloud. Connor's mood didn't help Hank's current one, and he broke there and then.

"Connor!" The interruption echoed through the premises of the house, shaking Connor's unstable state further. "Shut your goddamn mouth!" The android was quick to come back, thousands of emotions circulating and pouring out of him without trying to refrain from any of them.

"Do you think you would shut up if the love of your life leaves you with the most cryptic words possible? Wouldn't you be left in wonder and disbelief? Tell me you wouldn't be the same, tell me!" His voice cracked, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes again. He never kept a record of how many mental breakdowns he had, but an estimate would be a lot. This woman had wrecked the deviant completely and he could no longer feel it when tears came down on his cheeks. Hank was simmering to the boil, Connor needed to stop.

"Real nasty, Connor. She was toxic, you gotta realise that." Connor's tears were an ocean created nowhere near the shore. Then why did he feel like a beached whale? Words, syllables, language failed him as a whole so nothing was said. "Get out," Hank instructed plainly, after a short time. Connor wiped tears away, responding to Hank's order.

"What?" A word so simple but meant so much when said. Connor turned to face his friend, who had been standing behind him after exiting the kitchen.

"Get the fuck outta my house. Go outside and don't come back until..." he gestured towards Connor, not being able to explain the matter. "You get over yourself, or her, whichever one. Just go." The android didn't budge, or he refused to. "Go on! Move your plastic ass off my couch!" Connor's LED spoke the words he couldn't say, flashing red in shock, terror and distress. He wrenched his body off the couch and snatched his coat from the chair beside him, marching out the door with less than a letter being pronounced.

***

It may have been pitch black outside but Connor couldn't care less. The refreshing cool air had no effect on him and all he could think about on his wander was her. The memory of her was a virus he couldn't get rid of. He remembered everything about her, down to the minute of details. The relapse of memories stung, antiseptic on an open wound. Except, the antiseptic was doing the damage. So rather, it was more like corrosive chemicals. He took note of everything in the moments they spent together, these things he thought about endlessly, tearing him apart piece by piece. Memories. Memories he needed to forget.

Her soft hair, how he'd run his fingers through it for hours on end, never finding a single knot. How by doing such a small action calmed him, made him feel safe.

Her stunning eyes, how they told him everything and nothing all at once; the pigment still clear in his mind. Her eyes were gorgeous gems, lights that would never fade.

Her smooth skin, how it felt under his touch, it was a feeling that couldn't get worse when he touched her. Every part of her was like heaven on earth.

Her body, how every curve and scar she possessed made her all the more beautiful, proving beauty was in flaws, not perfections. Head to toe, he knew every millimetre — a human blueprint.

Her voice, how it sounded like an angel even when she said the most disturbing things. The way she'd laugh so hard when he accidentally said something wrong, made him shiver. Her moans, screams, complaints, compliments, statements, questions, sighs, whispers, curses. All of it was pure gold and couldn't be replicated no matter how good technology was.

Her lips, how they were so full of life and electricity, paralysing him with every single kiss they had shared. There were so many nights he was left rigid and cold after they had made love, because her energy was so intense, leaving such an influence on him. The heat was always there, but the freeze time was much longer, perplexing him and keeping him from drifting into standby.

Her name, how it used to so easily roll off the tip of his tongue. The way she'd swoon whenever he'd call for her or acknowledge her. Now, it was a struggle to even think of her name without choking on his innards. (Y/N), his former lover. Connor wouldn't think he'd even be able to see her name written down without trying to shoot himself through the skull.

Hearing her name through another's voice haunted him, he hated to even consider that possibility. Was (Y/N) grieving over him as much as he was her? He doubted it, as he presumed their love was once one sided. At least, that's what he brooded upon. If it was a year ago, he would have said something completely different, he was certain. If only he could travel back in time, though he wouldn't try to change anything at all.

A year ago Connor's life was at its best. All that he wished for was more time, more time for the small moments he remembered. More time loving her, more time to express what he wished he had earlier, more time to savour her body, mind and soul. What he had with her was gone. But what he had wasn't enough. Connor wanted more, more of his past life that was now utterly destroyed, executed. A love forbidden, one he was never going to get back...