Dbh Connor - Blog Posts

Hank: CONNOR! Have you seen the alcohol!?

Connor: *burying the bottles* I don't think so Lieutenant. Check the basement!

Hank: Sometimes I wonder what it‘d be like to have my life together. Kinda hard to imagine; I’ve found that drinking helps with that.

Connor: Hank.

Hank: Remember, kids, unhealthy coping mechanisms are always an option.

Connor: HAnk

Uhhh here's connor and my persona HAHA!! oh my god i love self inserts,,

At your service

I’m funny I know…

~ Remember this is not just a story~ 

 ~ This is our future ~

On a date with my android husband sent by cyber life 

Connor your going to be the death of me

School doodles I did because I was bored 🥱



~Connor with long hair is so~

Me watching Berleey getting characters killed in Detroit Become Human, just like Until Dawn.

Me in 2038 if I don’t see Connor.

~Detroit Become Human Aesthetic~

Can’t let the gang know I’m in love with a android  sent by cyber life 💀

Giggles saving this for me.!!

Yours Truly, RK800 (Connor X Reader)

A/n: Hello, and welcome to my first multi-part fic here on tumblr!  I’m gonna do my best to make this as enjoyable as possible, but please bear with me as I have never written anything like this before! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy! Also, fair warning, this will not be entirely canon. *Yes, the switch between ‘his/him/it/its/etc.’ is 100% intentional. Summary:  ’“The fuck is that thing doing here?” Hank grumbled, causing you to turn around.  An Android walked into the office, scanning the area for someone. The android turned it’s head as it approached the two of you,

“Are you Lieutenant Anderson?” Your uncle sighed, annoyed. “Yeah, and what the fuck’s it to ya?” He retorted. “My name is Connor. I’m the Android sent by Cyberlife." ‘ ~ Hank Anderson being your uncle came with a lot of positives and negatives. You had to deal with people always insulting him when no one knew what had happened to make your uncle the way he was, but, he loved you like his own child. He always talked positively, even when you were being a little shit which is why it was surprising but also not surprising when he got you a job in his city’s police force. One day an android is sent to assist your uncle with android deviancy related crimes, replacing you. As angry as it makes you, you can tell your uncle doesn’t like the Android either. When he convinces your captain to let the three of you stick together, what will happen? Chapter One

You yawned tiredly, sipping your coffee as you pushed open the door of the police station with your hip. You greeted everyone cheerfully, walking to your desk. You placed your coffee on your desk, then on your uncle’s. "Rise and shine, Uncle Hank!” You said obnoxiously, startling a sleeping Hank. With a choke and sputter, your now awake uncle cursed at you.

“The fuck ya doin’, Y/n?! Can’t get a damn break from you, ya little shit…” He complained, shaking his head. His eyes trailed to the cup of coffee now sitting on his desk, “For me?” He asked, picking up the cup as he sniffed it.  You rolled your eyes, “No, it’s for Reed.” You spoke a little louder than you’d expected to and Reed’s head perked up in your direction. Before he could open his mouth, Hank cut him off. “Still not a chance, Shitbrain.” Hearing his insult, you nearly spit out the coffee in your mouth. 

“Shitbrain?! That’s a new one!” You laughed after swallowing the coffee. The man simply shrugged and spoke, “Seemed right.” Hank gave you a lopsided smile. You could almost feel the disappointment from Reed all the way across the office. However, Hank’s smile was immediately wiped off his face when he looked past you. 

“The fuck is that thing doing here?” he grumbled, causing you to turn around.  A tall man had walked into the office, scanning the area for something or someone. Upon finding what he was looking for, he walked to where you were standing next to Hank. Upon first glance, you noticed how attractive he was.  He adjusted his tie and completely ignored you, annoying you quite a bit. “Are you Lieutenant Anderson?” Hank sighed, annoyed. “Yeah, and what the fuck’s it to ya?” He retorted. You scanned the individual once again, anger and disgust filling you. It was a fucking. android. 

Your face scrunched up as it introduced itself. “My name is Connor. I’m the Android sent by Cyberlife.” “Oh Jesus Christ.” You and your uncle spoke in unison. If you hadn’t been so annoyed, you both would have laughed at that. The android began to speak again, “I was sent by Cyberlife to be your partner in Android Deviancy cases.” It explained, and though you weren’t impressed you decided to humor it. “My model, RK800, was designed specifically to help with police investigations.” You raised a brow and finally decided to speak up. 

“Well not burst your bubble, android , but I am his partner.” You said venomously. The android scanned you and you hated it. “You’re Detective L/n.” It began, causing you to scowl. “Yeah.” You agreed, urging it to continue. “You’ve been staying with your Uncle Hank since your parents died. I am sorry for your loss.” You almost lost your grip on the coffee cup you were holding and Hank noticed, “Get on with it, already!” He almost yelled at it. The LED light on the side of his head began to flash yellow and it seemed he took a mental note of sorts. It returned to blue before he began speaking again. “I do not mean to…how do humans say it…” Once again, his LED circled a dark yellow. “ 'Burst your bubble’, but I am replacing you as Lieutenant Anderson’s partner.”

 ~

Bursting into Captain Fowler’s office with your Uncle and Connor in tow, your eyes were wild with rage. He turned around to face you and he let out a small hum of understanding. “So, the android’s here…” he said calmly. You took a breath to calm your voice, the anger still never leaving your eyes. You’d always been the more level-headed out of you and your uncle. “Yeah…Yeah, it’s here…What’s this about it replacing me?!” You accidentally shouted at the Captain, earning a glare from Uncle Hank. You murmured an apology under your breath, more focused on potentially being replaced by a robot. 

Your Captain stood from his desk and walked around it, sitting on the edge as he folded his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry, Y/n. It’s out of my hands, Cyberlife directly has told me that the two of them have to work together.” Your eyes widened, “Are you fucking serious…?” You breathed out, shocked. Fowler nodded, “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I wish I could do more but I have to follow orders.” You were speechless with anger. You threw your hands up in the air and let them rest in your hair. “So what do I do now?” You asked no one in particular, trying to wrap your mind around the news. “The best I could do for you is put you on desk duty for their cases. Do you still want to be involved?” Fowler asked you. 

Turning back to him you held your head in your hands, closing your eyes as a headache began to grow in your temples. “Yeah, yeah…Fine, sure. Whatever. Thank you Captain.” You trailed off, rubbing your temples. Leaving the Captain’s office, you went and sat at your desk, seeing the files start to pop up on your desk. You reached into your desk drawer and pulled out painkillers, taking them for your now throbbing migraine. Today couldn’t get any worse, or so you thought. You thought wrong, Gavin sauntered up to your desk, “Aw, did the little baby get kicked to the curb for an android?” He teased, “I guess we’ll be spending more and more time together than, honey.” 

You groaned loudly, “Gavin, for once in your fucking life, shut the fuck up!” You stood now, both fists clenched at your sides. You heard someone clear their throat and you looked over to see an angry Hank and confused Android. Gavin didn’t recognize the look, but you did and smiled to yourself before crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You heard ‘em, Reed.” Hank spoke lowly, shooting daggers at the man attempting to flirt with you. “Get a damn move on.” He stated angrily. Gavin rolled his eyes before turning around and making his way back to his desk. You plopped back into your seat, sighing. “You gonna be okay, kiddo?” Hank asked, rubbing your shoulder lightly. Resting your head in your hands, you nodded. “Yeah, Uncle Hank. I’ll live.” With a comforting pat, he nodded at you. Even though you didn’t see it, he knew you understood. “Jeffrey said you would be on standby, so call if you find anything interesting and be available for a call. Be safe, kiddo. Call if you need anything .” With a final glare to Reed, Hank and the android left the office.

 ~

Hours upon hours had passed and you were still at the office waiting for your Uncle and his brand new companion to come back. It was now a little over 9 at night, meaning the pair had been gone for over 4 hours. You were wearing Hank’s headphones, blasting Knights of the Black Death, one of your favorite bands. You were leaning back in your chair with your feet propped up on the edge of the desk, tossing a crumpled piece of paper up and down. You stared at the ceiling watching the ball move up and down, sighing quietly. Out of nowhere, Hank’s face was suddenly above you and you yelled. “Agh, Jesus!” You would’ve tumbled out of the chair if he hadn’t had his hands on the chair’s back. Hank let out a loud guffaw at your reaction, “Now we’re even.” 

He said before walking in front of you. With your heart still racing, you groaned in annoyance. Sitting up, Hank cut you off before you query about the case. He held up a hand,  “Hang on, I already know what you’re gonna ask. I have to go fill in Fowler, so why don’t you just come in too so you can hear the explanation? I’d rather not tell the same story twice.” You hopped out of your chair faster than your uncle could even blink. You placed the headphones back down on his desk, the music still playing as you both walked to your Captain’s office. While you and your uncle were with Fowler, you were completely oblivious to the android poking around both you and your uncle’s desks. Connor saw the headphones and thought to himself, What better way to get to know Hank than seeing what music he likes? The android slipped the headphones over his ears and heard heavy metal blasting. He took a moment to analyze the music and figured out the name of the music playing. He also scanned his chair, seeing dog hairs all over the back of the chairs. Another mental note made . Connor heard the smallest shift of weight and immediately knew that both of you were coming out and he placed the headphones down, awkwardly sitting next to Hank’s desk. Hank gave Connor a weird look then looked back at you, Connor then stood up and approached the older man. “Where could I sit and organize myself?” He groaned and rolled his eyes, shrugging him off. He gestured blindly at the desk behind his, “You can take the empty desk behind mine.” Connor nodded and did exactly that.

Hank sat at his desk and began to open the files you’d forwarded to him. Noticing from his earlier scan of his desk, Connor began to question Hank, “What’s your dog’s name?” Both you and Hank looked at Connor, slightly alarmed. “How’d you know I had a-? Nevermind.” He trailed off, not noticing Connor was still expecting an answer. Hank sighed, “Sumo. I call him Sumo.” Connor smiled and you shook your head in disbelief as you muttered, “Creepy.” under your breath. “Detective, know that my hearing is very good. I can hear your heartbeat from over here.” It told you, scaring you slightly. You said nothing and sighed to yourself, shaking your head. The android turned its attention back to the Lieutenant, “Do you listen to Knights of the Black Death? I really like that music.  It’s…full of energy.” Once again, both of your heads shot up.Hank took the words directly out of your mouth, “You listen to heavy metal?” You leaned forward on your palm, intrigued. How’d it know to specifically ask about that band? Was he snooping around? Was he planning something sinister?

 Whatever the answer was, you wanted to see the android attempt to get itself out of the situation it had gotten itself into. You almost laughed at its answer,  “I don’t really listen to music, as such… but I’d like to.” While Hank gave him a look, you stood up and walked next to him, leaning on the back of his chair. You listened to the music I left playing on his desk, didn’t you, Connor? You thought to yourself. 

Maybe Hank working with an android will be interesting

A wonderful canary I made of lil Connor and Hank Inspired from @artsy-traxh Au You should go check it out

OK so if no one reads this I won’t care at all, this is strictly my opinion and it’s pretty dumb anyways.

All right I’m going to start this off by saying that Hank is NOT a comfort dispenser for Connor. But apparently that’s what most people make him out to be. Connor, granted, being a deviant, does have emotions, but he’s likely still trying to work them out and understand them so right after the revolution he’s probably still more on the deadpan android side of emotion. Not saying he doesn’t show emotion at all, Connor has stated many times that he’s been scared and he’s shown anger and affection many times. Though even in these cases he seems to gain control again fairly quickly. Connor is still trying to work himself out, still trying to find a deeper understanding of himself and emotion itself. And yes, I do think it’s cute when Connor is having a hard time going through and/ or understanding an emotion like sadness, anxiety, or guilt and Hank helps him out. But this ALWAYS happens. Hank is rarely ever shown with emotions such as the ones just stated. Most of the time he’s only ever in fan fictions or fan art because he’s meant to comfort Connor. Hank has depression. Hank is suicidal. Hank has a severe drinking problem because of it. His SON died, for Pete’s sake. But in most ship or father/son relationship fics, it’s mainly about Hank helping Connor out. I know Connor has many of his own problems as well, and I’m not saying that this should be completely turned around to where Connor is a comfort dispenser for Hank. Absolutely not. I’m just saying that it bothers me that not many people seem to address that Hank has mental health issues and center everything around Connor. I know that Connor is generally a more well-known and loved character, and many people seem to see Hank as an “Unattractive character” both in design and personality(I’m not trying to call anyone out, this is just from what I personally have seen), but as I said it’s kind of annoying that Hank is generally used as a support character for Connor when he has many of his own problems. Hank and Connor have a very deep relationship, whether it be best friends, lovers, or a father-son relationship and all relationships go both ways. Hank and Connor are supposed to help each other, not just Hank helping Connor. Please tell me if I’ve said something wrong. If you want to correct me on something, please do it in at least a polite manner. Thank you. 

How hard I worked on this art, from morning until 2 am. But I even liked it)

To maintain my tone of work, I started watching "Brooklyn 9-9"

I had an ideato make a crossover for Detroit and Ninjago, but no good idea coming up for art. And I finall did it!

Have an au idea I might write up and post related to this drawing lmao

Connor: What’s up guys? I’m back.

Hank: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die.

Connor: Death is a social construct.

Broken Machinery

Intermission

To be read after part five

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

“Oh, no.”

“Is something wrong, detective?” 

“Yeah, something’s wrong.” You didn’t wait for Connor to open your door, you got out of the car and began heading towards where Hank was sitting. Connor closed the car door behind him and followed after you.

You hesitated behind the Lieutenant, your hand hovering over his shoulder as you stood behind the bench. You stood like that for a minute before you finally dropped your hand and turned around. There was a defeated slope to your shoulders as you sat down on the roundabout, staring out at nothing. 

Connor kept an eye on you while he walked over to the Lieutenant, there was already an empty bottle beside him, and he was starting on a new one. “Nice view, huh? I used to come here a lot before…” He paused, “You remember that, Y/N?”

Your voice was quiet, barely louder than the falling snow. “Yeah, I remember.” Connor looked between the two of you, neither of you were very interested in the idea of ‘opening up.’ However, the Lieutenant had been drinking, perhaps he would be more loose-tongued. 

“Before what?”

“Hm?”

“You said, ‘I used to come here a lot before.’ Before what?”

Hank stared down into the bottle, slowly swirling it before taking another sip. “Before… Before nothin’.” Your foot scraped across the ground as you twirled yourself slightly on the roundabout. Your posture was closed off, not defensive, just closed off. He would have no luck with you. 

Connor figured now would be a good time to ask the LIeutenant a question that had been bothering him. While things were obviously tense, there was a tranquility on the bridge that Connor rarely experienced around Hank. 

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

Hank turned towards Connor, “Do all androids ask so many personal questions or is it just you?”

Connor didn’t think Hank would appreciate the truth behind his desired answer to that question. Plus, you had warned him recently to keep any thoughts that had been causing conflicts in his software to himself, that it would be safer for him. 

“I saw a photo of the detective and a young child in her bedroom.” Hank turned around and gave you a long look when Connor mentioned that he was in your bedroom. His brows were furrowed when he turned back to Connor. “The boy, it was your son, right?”

“Yeah… His name was Cole.” Connor already knew that, but telling the Lieutenant that wouldn’t do any good. “And the girl in the picture had been my daughter, not anymore.” Connor turned towards you at the sound of a sniffle, but your back was to the both of them as you had spun to the opposite side of where they were standing. He could vaguely make out the shape of your shoulders shaking through the snow. 

Connor needed something else to think about, his humans were too emotional, too complicated. It was in turn making his mission more complicated. “We’re not making any progress on this investigation… The deviants have nothing in common. They’re all different models, produced at different times, in different places.”

Hank didn’t seem truly interested in what Connor had to say, but he entertained his musings nonetheless. “Well, there must be some link.”

Your voice was still quiet, but you spoke up loud enough for both of them to hear, “rA9,” Connor waited a moment to see if you wanted to elaborate on your thoughts. You remained silent. 

“They do share a similar obsession, it’s almost as if it’s a myth. Or a god to them. Like it’s something they invented that wasn’t part of their original program.”

“Androids believing in God… Fuck, what’s this world coming to?”

“You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant… Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?” Your head perked up slightly in the background and you angled yourself so you could hear their conversation more clearly. It seemed his actions at the club hadn’t confused only him. 

“Those two girls, they just wanted to be together… They really seemed in love,” the idea appeared to distress the Lieutenant. 

“They can simulate human emotions, but they’re machines. And machines don’t feel anything,” perhaps reminding the Lieutenant of that fact would ease his troubles and make him a more agreeable partner. Towards both Connor and you. 

“What about you, Connor?” You had finally made your way over to the bench, keeping a clear distance between yourself and the Lieutenant. 

The Lieutenant finished his drink and stood from the bench, “Yeah, you look human, you sound human, but what are you really?” Both pairs of eyes were boring intently into his. 

Whatever he said next could make or break the trust he had been building back up, he looked towards you. He knew what you wanted to hear, he knew exactly what to say that would make you warm up to him again. But he had promised, he had promised to be honest and not to manipulate your emotions. 

For some reason that meant something to him. 

So, he went with what he felt was the truth. “You know exactly what I am.” Your face dropped and Hank’s got angrier. “In any case, I don’t see how that’s relevant to the investigation.”

“You could have shot those two girls-“

“But you didn’t.” It was a bit unnerving to have you and the Lieutenant finishing each other's thoughts. Perhaps this is a method you used on perps when you interrogated them, corner them and trap them into the truth. 

“Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?” Hank shoved him back and you stepped forward, stopping yourself for a moment and letting everything play out. “Hm? Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?”

He looked towards you again, you had moved a step closer. He could practically see what you were thinking. 

Tell the truth. Please. 

“No… I just decided not to shoot, that’s all…”

“Oh, Connor,” he thought you would be happy, he told the truth. Instead you seemed incredibly sad and he didn’t like that. Your eyes widened and then your eyebrows turned down in anger at the sight of Hank pulling his gun. “Hank, what the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you, seemingly having only enough mental capacity to focus on one thing, Connor. “But, are you afraid to die, Connor?”

“I would certainly find it regrettable to be… interrupted… before I can finish this investigation.”

You were slowly moving closer to the two trying to figure out how to stop Hank. “Put the gun down.”

“What will happen if I pull this trigger? Hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android Heaven?”

The idea of Android heaven was preposterous, but that wouldn’t get Hank to put the gun down. He needed to do it soon as you seemed ready to jump in between the two of them. “Where does all this anger come from, Lieutenant? Some unresolved trauma in your past?” He knew the answer, it was Cole and whatever had caused the rift between you two. 

“Connor, stop.” You had stopped trying to intervene now, staring at him with hurt swirling in your eyes. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart,” his finger tightened on the trigger. “Always one step ahead, huh? Tell me this, smart ass… How do I know you’re not a deviant? The way you hover around Y/N, your mercy towards those two girls back there…”

“I self-test regularly, I know what I am and what I am not.” 

That wasn't truly an answer but it seemed to work for the Lieutenant. His hand shook before the gun fell back to his side. Hank moved back towards the bench, picking up another bottle. 

You watched him walk away, “Where are you going?”

“To get drunker… I need to think.” Both you and Connor watched him get in his car and drive away. 

You rocked back on your feet and tucked your hands in your pockets. 

“Guess we’re walking home.”

“DAD!” 

You couldn’t see.

Why couldn’t you see? 

There was a red film over your eyes and when you went to rub it away, you couldn’t move. There was something digging in your cheek, glass judging from the pile of it next to your face. What was going on?

You don’t remember what happened, the last thing you remember was getting into a fight with Hank about joining the force. He didn’t want you to, he thought it was too dangerous. 

And then there was something loud. 

A scream

You screamed

Why?

Because there was a noise, an awful noise, like metal scraping on pavement. 

What the hell happened?

“Cole! Cole, wake up!”

Your hands were pinned under your body, half of you was on asphalt, and when you tilted your head down you saw your legs on the grass. There was a strange warmth running down your face, you could see bone sticking out of your calf and blood pooling beneath it. 

There was a strange calmness as you tried to move your legs and failed. In the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t good, that your life was about to be changed forever. But you couldn’t break through the fog in your mind long enough to freak out.

You lifted your hand and dragged your arms out from underneath you, your skin catching on the pavement. There were two shapes in front of you in the middle of the road. Your vision was still blurry but you could recognize the close cut hair of your dad, and he was holding something small in his arms. 

It wasn’t moving, you felt like it should be. 

There were bright lights and smoky smells surrounding you, hands were tugging at your arms, but all you could see was the stillness in Hank’s arms. The small shape that should be moving, but wasn’t.

Again that small voice in your head was screaming, in pain or in anger, you weren’t sure. 

Nothings ever gonna be the same, is it?

“Y/N! Y/N!” Your hand lashed out, and connected with something hard.

It was hard to see in the dark, but you could make out the vague shape of Connor standing in front of your bed. “Connor?” Your voice was hoarse from being quiet for so long. 

“You were having a nightmare,” he reached out and turned your lamp back on. Your eyes momentarily closed from the shock of the brightness. “Are you okay, you sounded upset?”

You sat up on your bed, your head in your hands, the dream slowly coming back to you. “It was that night.” Connor’s jacket was gone, his sleeves rolled up. Normally the sight would have made you a little irrational but you were still feeling emotionally wrecked. 

He sat next to you on the bed, “What night?” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb moving in slow circles as he worked to calm you down. 

You could barely hear your own voice as you whispered, “The night Cole died.”

“Why can’t I feel my legs?”

“Please try and remain calm-”

“Where’s my dad? My little brother was with us. Have you found him? Are they okay?!”

The MP600 paramedic stared down at you blankly, it’s human counterpart looked worried as he wrapped the gash on your leg. “Answer me god dammit! Why won’t you look at me?”

The paramedic’s movements stopped for a moment and he looked at you, finally. You immediately wished he hadn’t, you wished he would just go back to pretending you didn’t exist. You knew the answer by the look in his eyes. 

The look that told you he’s had to break this type of news to someone one too many times, there was no hope, no light, nothing there to comfort you as you rode to the hospital, silently sobbing into your hands from both pain and anguish. 

Words were going in and out of your head, the sound of the heart monitor was background noise to the doctor speaking to you. You still hadn’t seen Dad, or Carla, or Cole.

No one was there to hold your hand as you were told you might never walk again. 

That a nerve had been damaged in your spine that might result in lifelong paralysis. 

“Y/N? Y/N!” Carla rushed into the room, sweeping you into a hug. You ignored the pain in your ribs and the clear absence of pain in your legs as you returned the embrace ten-fold. “Oh god, I was so worried, no one’s telling me anything. I wasn’t even sure you were alive until an android told me where you were.”

You were crying into her shoulder, so grateful for a familiar face that wasn’t a cold doctor or a frantic nurse. 

“Where’s dad, is he okay? Cole?” Carla pulled back, brushing some stray hairs from your forehead as tears lined her eyes. 

“Your dad’s okay, he’s just getting patched up. Cole,” her voice broke and your heart crumpled. “Cole’s in surgery, they have an android working on him. On my son.”

Disbelief colored your features and you could hear your heartbeat pick up on the machine. “What, why?”

She shook her head and went back to tenderly brushing the hair out of your eyes. 

Carla had came into your life after Hank, she’d cared for you and you loved her but she’d never been your mother. Now her only child was in the hands of something that wasn’t alive, it couldn’t feel empathy. If it failed its mission it wouldn't keep pushing to save Cole like a human might, it would simply give up. 

There was a horrible feeling in your gut, burning and twisting around your insides until you became physically ill. You threw up all over yourself. Carla rubbed your back as the nurses came in and cleaned up. You held each other as you both cried. 

It wasn’t until Hank walked in did you realize just how worried you had been for him. 

“Dad,” his eyes were vacant as he walked into your room. There was no relief like there was with Carla, he stared straight through you. “Dad?”

He shook his head, an empty smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo.” The nickname felt wrong, sounded fake. He just stood in the doorway of your hospital room. 

“Hank, what are you doing?” Carla seemed to pick up on the strange behavior too. He stared at you a moment longer, there was a gash across his eye and a bandage wrapped around his arm. 

It seemed he’d escaped unharmed compared to you and Cole.

The thought came with such a burning amount of rage and hatred it startled you. 

Hank walked out of the room, “Hank!” Carla looked at you, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be right back honey.” You didn’t see either of them for another four hours. 

“I’ll never forget the sound of her cry, Connor. It echoes around in my mind when everything’s too quiet.” 

His hand squeezed yours as he pulled you into his side.

There was a strange wailing, the noise woke you up. It ripped through the hospital and shook its foundation. Your entire body stilled at the raw visceral pain in the noise. It was terrifying, like you were being held down by some unknown force as you tried to get up. 

Then you remembered, your legs were the deadweight holding you down. The thought left you choking back a sob.

Why could you still feel an ache in them, an itch you couldn’t scratch?

There was another horrible noise and you finally forced yourself to roll over. There was a wheelchair waiting for you next to the bed, you almost threw up at the thought of having to use it. Something stopped you from completely flopping off the bed. 

You ripped the IV out, “Fuck!” That looks so much less painful in the movies.

You put the guard rail down and finally managed to get into the wheelchair. Your arms were still sore from the impact they took, you pushed through it as you rolled down the hall. 

Your room was close enough to the waiting room that it didn’t take too long to see who had been screaming. The entire time your heart was begging you to turn back around, to just get back in bed and rot there. That, that would be better than whatever you were about to see. 

Some nights, you wished you had listened. 

Carla was on her knees, clutching onto Hank as the doctor spoke in low tones. You barely held back the bile at the sight of their faces.

Hank, you’d never seen him like that before, so lost, so unsure of himself. Like every grain of goodness and light and hope inside him had just been ripped out and run over. 

Carla was a shrieking animal on the floor. You knew what that meant. 

Cole was gone. 

“My condolences,” you nodded, eyes on your hands so you didn’t have to look into the eyes of whoever was mourning. You couldn’t do it anymore, you couldn’t deal with the pity as they looked at your wheelchair and then at your father who was still sitting in the pews, bottle in hand. 

You felt hands on your shoulders and looked up, Carla’s once kind eyes, now sad, were staring down at you. “It’s time.” You nodded and she started rolling you towards the taxi waiting at the curb. 

Time to bury your baby brother. 

Time to bury your heart. 

TIme for the final nail on the coffin of what used to be a happy family. 

“He was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Hank’s eyes found yours from where he was giving his speech.

The bottle had been disposed of before he joined you in the taxi. You didn’t know if his eyes were red from the drink or from the tears currently pouring out.

“He was so young, so much potential and it was just ripped away from us! From me.” You looked away, wiping your eyes. “How dare you?” 

Your head shot up, looking for who he was talking to. You would assume God, if it didn’t sound so pointed. “How dare you sit there and fucking cry?” 

No, please no.

He was staring at you, finger pointed at you. “You’re alive and hes dead and you’re fucking crying?!”

“Hank, that’s enough.” He shoved Jeffery off of him, if he wasn’t mourning, the captain probably would have taken his badge. 

“No! He’s gone because of you! And you sit there crying like you have any right too?” There were gasps going around the people surrounding the coffin. You and Carla were the only ones who weren’t surprised. 

You’d heard this drunken rage a hundred times since the night of the accident. 

Hank stumbled towards you, “I wish you had been the one who died.”

Your chest caved in and your heart shattered at your feet. The rest of the funeral was a high-ringing blur of pain.

Carla didn’t stay long. You didn’t blame her. 

But you didn’t have the luxury of leaving.

Your admittance letter to the academy stared at you every morning as you wheeled yourself into the bathroom. For months you stewed in misery and depression, you didn’t go to PT and you cried yourself to sleep every night as you heard Hank’s drunken raging outside your room. 

Sumo would climb in your bed and snuggle you on the really hard nights. 

The only reason you kept going was because if you died no one else would be there to love him or feed him. 

You wondered sometimes, if it was your fault. Had you really been so distracting when you were arguing with Hank that he had crashed?

Had it not been for you making him pick you up from a friend's house right after Cole’s karate lesson, they wouldn’t have been on that road. 

Maybe things would be better off without you.

“Get up!” A pillow hit you in the head, you buried your face further into your sheets, now more used to the dead weight beneath your waist. Another pillow, a familiar scent attached to this one. 

“Carla?”

“That’s right, get your ass up.” Hank must be gone, he’d gone back to work a little while ago, it meant you had the mornings to yourself. You sat up and stared at her in wonder. 

Carla had helped you for as long as she stayed, picking you up off the floor when you couldn’t make it onto the toilet in time. Bathed you and helped you get fed. After she had left there were a lot of humiliating mornings of sitting in your own filth because you hadn’t been able to get on and off the toilet on your own. 

You’d stopped trying after a while, just held it until it was too painful to keep it in. Stopped eating and drinking. You knew you looked awful, hair unwashed, and barely any meat left on your bones. 

“Ay dios mio,” Carla sat down and clutched you to her chest, embracing you despite the stink and the lack of enthusiasm on your side.

Eventually you managed enough strength to hug her back, the moment a painful reminder of the night your life ended. 

“Carla took me to physical therapy, helped me find a place on my own and figure out how to navigate my new life.” Your hand was holding Connor’s, you had been tracing shapes on it for a while now as you spoke. 

He was just staring at you, letting you talk it all out. “She helped me find a therapist, a lot of my physical problems were the result of mental blocks. That’s not to say I was magically healed once I realized I was traumatized, it was at least a year before I could stand with support.”

“Where are you going?” Hank was sober, rare these days. 

You had borrowed Carla’s van, she’d left an hour ago knowing Hank would be home soon. A box was in your lap as you wheeled yourself to the door, Hank was standing there, Sumo’s tail wagging happily beneath him. 

You could feel your face drain of color as you stared up at him. This was your last box and you’d really been hoping you would be able to get Carla’s van out of the driveway before he got home. “Um, I’m leaving.”

Hank closed the door behind him, you cried internally, knowing this would go bad. He threw his jacket on the table, his bag landing next to it. He reached for a glass and you started wheeeling yourself backwards, but he only got some water from the tap. 

“Was that Carla’s car outside?”

Your throat felt like sandpaper while you answered, “Yeah, she took me to physical therapy today, said I could borrow it. Self-driving, so I don’t have to worry about the pedals.” He already knew that, but you needed to say something to fill the silence. 

“How’s that going, the physical therapy?”

“Fine.”

This house is no longer a home. 

The thought nearly had you doubled over in grief. You didn’t think it was possible to lose so much in one night, but you should know better. It had already happened to you once. 

Maybe Hank was right, maybe you were a curse, a burden on any family you were involved with. Everyone you loved was doomed to die or leave. 

“I’m getting some feeling in my leg’s back. I can stand for about thirty seconds,” he turned back towards you, arms crossed and staring down at you. He hadn’t shaved in a while and his hair was starting to grow out of its usually cropped style. He was gaining weight too. 

“Thirty seconds?”

You flushed, feeling the need to defend yourself, “It’s a lot for someone who was never supposed to walk again.”

He nodded and the silence suffocated you. He was only twenty feet from you but he felt miles away. Like there was a never ending divide between the two of you. “I’m moving out.” You needed this to be done. You’d survived this heartbreak before, you would do it again. 

His gaze shot back to yours, “What?”

The hurt in his voice made you wish you had delivered the news more gently. “I found a place, it’s only a couple minutes away, rents cheap-”

“You don’t even have a job.” 

“Fowler helped me out, he’s letting me do some filing before I can retake the academy’s exam.” If I can retake the academy’s exam. Recovery wasn’t promised. “It’s enough for food and rent.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Were you? You had been planning on just leaving a note and going. 

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Hank scoffed and this time the glass he filled was with whiskey. By the time he turned around you had already left, the last of your things packed away in the car. You’d seen him running out onto the driveway as the car had taken you to your new home. 

There was a painful chasm in your heart at the sight of him watching you leave.

“I walked today, on my own, I didn’t have to use the bars or anything.” Your fingers fiddled with the edge of your comforter as you spoke to Carla. “I still feel like it’s not enough.”

“Más vale maña que fuerza, your physical body is not more important than your spirit, Y/N. If you can’t celebrate the small victories you're never going to heal. That’s a lot. I’m proud of you.” 

There were tears in your eyes and a thickness in your throat as you said goodbye and hung up. 

Fowler had been keeping you and Hank as separated as possible, different shifts, different days. But there was still the rare interaction. The both of you in the kitchen at the same time for coffee, Hank having to witness Gavin’s horrible attempts at flirting.

Sometimes when Gavin would give you a particularly bad pick-up line you and Hank would share a look that made your chest ache with a phantom pain of when you could laugh together about things like that. 

He looked pained every time he saw your cane. 

“On my honor, I will never betray my integrity, my character or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always maintain the highest ethical standards and uphold the values of my community, and the agency I serve.”

Carla was waiting for you with flowers after you were sworn in. She took you out to dinner and tried to distract you so you wouldn’t notice who was missing. She’d said goodnight and dropped you back at the station so you could grab your stuff and get your car. 

“You did it.” Hank was waiting at your desk, his coat in his hands.

“I did.”

“I’m,” sorry? Proud of me? You were honestly getting pissed off he was even talking to you. Months of radio silence and now, now, on your big night he wants to talk.

“Congratulations.” 

You scoffed, “Thanks, your heartfelt words mean so much to me, dad.” Perhaps it was cruel, perhaps you were being petty. You didn’t care, he was reopening the wound in your heart and it was weeping.

You’d worked so hard and for so long to heal yourself, you wouldn’t have him ruining that progress for you simply because he was, what? Bored? Trying to ease some guilt? 

“Hey, I’m trying, okay?” Fuck that and fuck him.

“Damage is done Hank, too little too late. I’m done with you. You turned into the person you saved me from.” Maybe that was too much, comparing him to the abusive shitbag that was your foster father. You told yourself you didn’t care, but the tears in your eyes at the sight of his distraught expression betrayed you. 

He walked away and while you were weak and in pain Gavin had appeared, asking if you were okay. 

You weren’t proud of what you did that night with him, of what you gave to him.

“Hank? Hello?” 

You’d made detective today, and Fowler, in his limited wisdom, thought Hank would be a good partner.

You know it hurt for him to see his best friend change so much, but seriously? 

Hank?

“You used to call me dad, you know that?”

Drunk. Again. Why’d he call you?

Why did you come?

“Come on, up you go.” You helped him to his feet and managed to get him to the couch before you collapsed under his weight. 

“When’d you stop being my little girl?”

Your heart clenched, but it was a distant pain, not as bad as it used to be. “When you stopped being my dad.”

Hank swung out in a dramatic gesture, just barely missing you, “That’s ridiculous. I never stopped, you, you’re not the same anymore.” You could say the same, but there’s no point in arguing with him when he’s like this. He leaned in close, examining your features. “You’re not her. You’re not my daughter, she died. She’s gone. This person, this you, I hate. I hate you because of what you took from me.”

There were tears clawing their way up your throat. Yet you still untied his shoes and grabbed him a blanket.

You still took care of him. 

“Get out! Get out of my house! It’s your fault they’re gone, I don’t want you around!” He threw his bottle, it just barely missed your head. Sumo started barking and he started grabbing more things to throw. You ran out the door, his drunken screams still following you. 

You ran and you kept running. 

At least you could do that. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

A/N: Is she talking to Connor, or to Hank?

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.