Detroit Become Human x Readers

Walk (Connor x Reader)

“I’m not sure I understand the point of this.” Among the cracking of tree branches and the soft song of birds, Connor’s voice reached your ears. Joining the peaceful sounds into one gentle melody that made your eyes shut, and you gentle footsteps halt.

It wasn’t often you got to enjoy nature. Detroit wasn’t exactly the place for a connection with the earth, and while you weren’t some tree hugging-hippy, you would be a liar if you were to say you didn’t enjoy walking out in sun, breathing in the fresh air. Despite your best efforts, you never seemed to be able to find time to take the day off and drive further out to the thick and far forests that Michigan offered. For once luck was on your side, giving you the wonderful opportunity to take the weekend to explore.

Connor didn’t seem to feel the same.

You had to give it to him- you certainly hadn’t seen anything as funny as a CyberLife android half-slipping down a muddy hill, over-dressed and overwhelmed by the bugs that attacked his form. No doubt the insects were confused as to why he wasn’t offering any sweet, red blood to their creepy, suctiony mouthparts. You shivered.

“Do you need help, or-?” You snort as he reaches you at the bottom of the wet, grassy hill. You, having done this a billion times, had managed to find footholds in seconds without a moment to blink. Even with his reconstruction, Connor had managed to fuck up every single step like they were quicktime events in a shitty, choice based game.

“Why are we here?” It’s more of a depressed, miserable statement than a question. Connor crosses his arms, hands in his armpits with his face half obscured in a thick scarf, and a pulled down beanie. He looks like a four-year-old on the brink of a tantrum, and quite frankly, it’s hilarious.

“Because you asked to come along.” You tell him, walking over to a nearby tree, leaning to take a quick rest. A quick glance around the area tells you a few things. The track your on is clearly for beginners, winding down only a little. The trees are so far spaced one could likely thread a car through this place, were they careful enough. The path is clear of roots or vines to trip on, the gravel isn’t even sharp enough to cut through your sturdy climbing boots.

You’re told many things in the few moments you spend looking around, but your main takeaway from this is that Connor is being a giant baby.

His eyes are glued to the hill and the stairs that lead up it. Even his stance tells you how uncomfortable he is. You knew he was a city boy but Jesus Christ. Was he built to be allergic to plants?

“Shouldn’t we return to the car? Hank will be surprised to wake up alone.” He swipes away another bug, most thankfully having given up on attempting to break through the impenetrable fortress that was Connor’s 7 odd layers of clothing. Oh, and the whole artificial plastic skin as well.

“Bold of you to assume Hank has ever given a single shit in his life.” You respond, locking eyes and cocking an eyebrow. Hank had gotten into the cooler in the back during a toilet break on the drive back, and managed to drink 4 beers and half a bottle of vodka before passing out in the back seat, leaving you to drive his stupid car. You’d left him at the path entrance, and that had been a good hour ago.

“You really don’t wanna be here, huh?” Swinging your small pack off your back, you search for your water bottle, watching Connor avert his eyes and look away, the ground. Anywhere but the sky-scraper like trees that surrounded you.

“I… I don’t like being so far from civilization.” Your brow furrows as you take a swig of your bottle, quick to swallow the water before questioning his words.

“Really? I find it peaceful. Plus, there’s a town about 30 minutes from here.” You nearly offer the water to him before realizing that no, he doesn’t need it. Packing it away you look back and find Connor has his eyes directly on you. Funny, it was, you always found the calm energy of the forest in his eyes. Brown and soft, like fresh soil. Yet here you could draw no similarities. Nature truly could not compare.

“The nearest CyberLife part store is over 100 kilometres away.” He tells you, reciting the facts from what was likely a file in his mind. Still, you did not see the point.

“So?” You tilt your head, watching the look in his soft brown eyes falter.
“So if I slip and damage myself, I’m done for. At least until you can get me out.” Connor grows quiet near the end. Almost like he’s worried you wouldn’t bother, what with how many times he’s been replaced in the past. Like a stab to the gut, you feel sudden guilt fill your body on behalf of all your teasing.

“You know I wouldn’t let that happen, right?” You take a few steps towards Connor, you pack long forgotten. He shrugs as you come to a stop in front of him, drawing back his gaze with a cautionary touch to his shoulder. You hope he knows it’s intended as a comforting action.

“I know, I simply… worry.” He finishes and does not pull out of your grasp, despite still averting his gaze. Even as you reach out he cannot muster the courage to look at you, laying your other hand on the opposite shoulder. Seeing him like this -the discomfort and anxiety- it wasn’t worth the peace and quiet.

“We can go now if you’d like?” You suggest, and it’s like the sun comes up when he smiles, eyes alight with sudden relief that makes your cheeks pool with blood.

“Really?” He asks, taking a half step back but still staying- no, lingering, in your touch.

“Yeah. It’s no fun if you’re going to be upset the whole time.” You tell him, watching as he breathes out an unnecessary, but cute sigh of relief. What’s more, disarming his when he rests his hand on top of yours and doesn’t let go.

“And we don’t want to worry Hank.” He says as he turns, your fingers still trapped in his own as he moves to grab and hand you your belongings, before leading you back up the hill, as of you did not know the way.

“And we don’t want to worry Hank.” You repeat with a gentle laugh, your fingers curling and ribboning with his as he walks you up the old, mossy coated staircase, memorizing the creases and cuts on your hand as best he can in this rare, peaceful moment.