ANGELEYES, dbh connor

ELEVEN

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN
━━━━━━(●'ω｀●)━

THE GARDEN IS EVERGREEN and beautiful in your mind, so different from the Detroit slums outside. You stare at Amanda with a passive smile on your face and you watch her admire her zen garden.

"Hello, Amanda."

"Y/N... I've been expecting you. Would you mind a little walk?"

With a polite smile, you gently link arms with her and the two of you walk down a neat stone pathway through the lush garden. You hear her heels clicking as she walks, the sound sharp and serious.

Amanda sighs, "That Deviant seemed to be an intriguing case. A pity you didn't manage to capture it."

You hesitate for a moment, "I have no excuse. I should have been more efficient."

Amanda nods in response as the two of you pass by a tree with wilting leaves. It looks dehydrated and on the brink of death.

What? You stare at it for a moment. Why is it dying? That's never happened before.

"It was working under a false identity," you begin, "at a nearby urban farm. This is the first case of a Deviant working to blend in with the human populate... It makes me wonder just how many others there are out there, hiding."

Amanda seems unimpressed. "What else?"

After a moment, you speak again. "Detective Summers found its diary but it was encrypted. It may take weeks to decipher."

She frowns. ⍌

"The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols. Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9..."

"You came very close to capturing that deviant, Y/N..."

She sighs and you look into the garden filled with pink lilies. "How is your relationship with the Lieutenant developing?"

"He seemed grateful that I saved his life on the roof. He didn't say anything, but he expressed it in his own way..." You pause. "He's growing accustomed to my presence."

"And Detective Summers?"

You slowly unlink your arm from Amanda's and face her.

"Connor seems to enjoy my company," you say frankly, "there are no issues between us and he has proven himself to be a capable Detective."

"We don't have much time," Amanda interrupts you. "Deviancy continues to spread. It's only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes."

"I will solve this investigation, Amanda. I won't disappoint you."

"A new case just came in. Find your partners and investigate it," Amanda dismisses you, and with a flutter of your eyelids, you awaken to where you stand in reality: in one of Cyberlife's warehouses surrounded by switched-off Androids.

You know what to do.

Connor first, then the Lieutenant.

IT SURPRISES YOU MORE than it should that the outside of Connor's house is so neat and tidy. In fact, you were mostly expecting his house to look just like his work desk: chaotic but strangely colorful.

No, instead, Connor's home is modern and classy and not at all messy.

It's a one-story house with a white exterior and large windows. The garden reminds you of Amanda's -- it's overflowing with green grass and dainty pink flowers. The hedges are neatly groomed but tall enough to allow privacy and small white flowers bloom between the branches.

You can't focus on the beauty of the place, though. You only have one thought.

How does he afford all this at only 24?

Straightening the collar of your white shirt, you make your way down the cobblestone path that leads to his door.

A chilly breeze caresses your cheeks. The sky is stormy tonight, just like it always seems to be. Over the past few months of your existence, you still haven't seen a properly sunny sky in Detroit's gloomy city.

You walk onto the home's wooden veranda and quietly rap your fist against the glass door.

As you listen for any noises from inside the house, you quietly peer in through the door. The lights are all off but you can faintly make out the shapes of a large leather lounge and television. Connor certainly has expensive tastes.

You wait a moment. Nobody answers.

It's fairly late -- your internal clock tells you it's 11:58 PM -- and so you're fairly certain that the Detective is still sleeping. It looks like you're going to need to be a little louder.

You knock again. "Connor?"

Your voice echoes through the quiet home but you get no response.

Instead of knocking for the third time, you press your finger against the doorbell and hold it down for approximately eight seconds. The doorbell groans and comes to life, ringing loudly through the dark home.

In the distance, you hear the sound of something thumping onto the ground. And a groan.

You lift your finger off the doorbell and fold your hands across your chest as you wait. There's no way Connor is still sleeping, now.

Just as you predicted, you see Connor's silhouette in the living room as he stumbles his way to the door. He rubs his eyes sleepily and you take the moment to inspect his appearance. It's probably the only time you'll ever come to his house and see him in such a state.

Connor's brown hair is mussed in such a way that small curls stick against his forehead. His eyes are half-lidded and hazy because of sleep and his lips look a little puffy.

Most of all, though... he's not wearing his work clothing.

Instead of wearing his usual white button-up, classy dress pants, and tie, he's dressed in a hoodie and shorts... But the hoodie...

You stare at him shamelessly and your LED flickers yellow.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ⍓...

His hoodie is only partially zipped up so it nearly looks v-necked and it reveals a slither of his pale chest... You can see his collarbones and the definition of his chest. His fat to muscle ratio must be very low because you can see his muscles so easily and-

"Y/N-" Connor stutters and his voice grabs your attention, "I- uh- what are you- what are you doing here?"

"I came for you."

"Uh... Wh-?"