Survivor - Connor x OC

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

Les Misérables – Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

Connor tightened his hold on Taylor as she shifted in his arms, and then relaxed as she resettled, falling back into sleep. They were tucked into the quietest part of the church he could find, away from the survivors of Jericho, alone.

When he had pulled the blonde out of the water hours ago, shivering, lips blue, he had worried that she might shake apart. He'd considered the risk of hypothermia and had wanted to take her to get medical attention. She'd refused outright.

Markus had brought her dry clothes, an android uniform of all things, and started a fire. When he'd tried to help her out of her soaking wet clothes, she'd started to panic even more. He'd let her do it alone, turning away, not knowing how to help her.

Then he'd led her closer to the flames, still shivering, teeth chattering, wet hair clinging to her face. He'd sat her down, and settled next to her, watching her shake. Fragile. Human.

And she'd scooted closer, drawn to his warmth. He couldn't say exactly when she'd moved from pressed against his side to curled into his lap, still desperately cold. He hadn't protested, had placed his arms around her, lending her every bit of warmth that he could.

Eventually she did stop shaking, her skin going from icy cold to the same temperature as his. Her breathing slowed with it, and she'd fallen asleep against him.

Now Connor felt her shift again, wondering if she was finally coming to. His arms tightened, one curled around the middle of her back, the other parallel with her thigh, his hand resting lightly against her hip.

Her head was tucked against his shoulder. Every slow exhale, he could feel her breath tickling against his neck, could feel every steady beat of her heart against his chest. She shifted again, and Connor knew she was waking up.

Taylor sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut hard before she blinked them open. Her left arm was curled around his neck, and he felt her fingers tighten before she suddenly pulled away, her face bewildered.

"Connor? What...?" She looked down, realizing all at once that she was fully sitting in his lap. Scarlet covered her face almost instantly, like someone had lit a match under her skin. She scrambled away from him, and he released her, feeling the absence immediately.

"You were cold," he explained calmly, watching her rub her hands over her face. She groaned at this but didn't say anything. He added, mostly to try and ease her embarrassment, "You were also in shock."

She peered at him through her fingers, face still red. He couldn't help the smirk that quirked his lips. She groaned a second time, hiding her face once more.

After a few minutes, when she had calmed enough to show her face, she glanced around them. "Where are we? Where's Markus?"

"The survivors from Jericho have all come here. It's an abandoned church outside of Detroit. Markus left shortly after we arrived. He said he had something to take care of." Connor watched Taylor lower her hands to her lap. She stood and walked toward the doorway that led into the main area of the church, where the Jericho survivors were.

She placed a hand over her mouth as she counted them, her eyes filling with sadness. He stood up and joined her but couldn't bring himself to say anything in comfort. "It was my fault."

Taylor turned, her blue eyes on his, uncertain. "You said they followed you."

"It was a setup," he conceded, glancing toward the floor. "CyberLife must have planned this from the start. They were using me."