Connor My Dear Boy (FINISHED)

21

"Connor," Haytham whispered in a hushed voice, shaking Connor awake gently.

Connor's eyes fluttered open and he squinted up at him tiredly. "What?" he groused.

"I was thinking that we could visit Malik in the hospital today," he said.

"Isn't it Saturday?" Connor yawned.

"Yes?" Haytham said, clearly wondering what his point was.

Connor frowned and fell silent as he tried to beat back his disappointment; he wondered if Haytham had even remembered their weekly lunch. Of course, Connor didn't exactly blame him, given what had happened to the Al-Sayfs, but he found himself wishing for at least some sort of normalcy after the accident.

"I'm not feeling well," lied Connor, turning his head away from Haytham to bury his face into his pillow.

He could still sense Haytham behind him for a moment before the man said, "Okay. Okay, Connor, that's perfectly alright. Maybe some other time soon, then. Go back to sleep, then."

Connor heard Haytham leave and quietly shut the door behind him.

The next thing Connor knew, there was sunlight streaming in from the window. Connor's gaze found the clock on the wall to see that it was about noon. He slid from his bed, taking a minute to stretch his arms over his head, before he wandered downstairs. Haytham was nowhere to be found.

Connor stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring down at his feet. "I can't believe he forgot." If anything, this strengthened Connor's resolve of what he wanted… no, needed to do.

Connor headed back upstairs, got dressed, and removed all of the books and school papers from his backpack, sliding them under his bed where Haytham was less likely to see them. Connor headed back downstairs and began to search the cupboards for nonperishable food; mostly he took things such as cans, jerky, or trail mix. After a moment's hesitation he took the hand-held can opener and a fork, loading all of this into his backpack. He hesitated again before taking some of the extra cash that he knew Haytham kept in the back of his closet. Connor felt bad, but he needed to do this. He paused for a moment before he slipped the framed picture of himself and Ziio into the bag too.

"I can't stay here," Connor repeated to himself over and over again. "I can't stay here."

Haytham called at about 12 o'clock. "Hello Connor."

"Oh, hello," replied Connor unenthusiastically.

Haytham paused. "I realized that I forgot about our lunch today."

"Yes," Connor agreed, shouldering his backpack.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Things have been… hectic, for lack of a better word. I sincerely apologize for forgetting."

Connor believed him, but he remained silent.

"Maybe we can do it tomorrow?" Haytham suggested.

"Sure," lied Connor. There was another moment of awkward silence before Connor said, "I was thinking about going over to play with Desmond."

"Oh," said Haytham. "Have a good time. I'm going to be home in a couple of hours; I need to run some errands. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon," Connor echoed.

The phone clicked and there was the sound of dial tone. Connor hung it back up and headed out the front door, the weight of his backpack heavy on his shoulders. Connor spotted Desmond running around in his front yard babbling to Achilles, who was clearly not paying attention to his charge. Desmond gave Connor a wave which the latter returned faintly.

"I can't stay here."

Connor continued on his trek down the sidewalk. Further down he saw an olive skinned teenage boy with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail chatting up a Chinese girl about his age who was clearly not interested.

"Maybe on Sunday we can catch a movie?" the boy was saying.

"I can't stay here."

The next people he saw was his French teacher, Mr. Dorian, and a woman with bright red wavy hair. The two of them were holding hands and Mr. Dorian was saying, "Mon amour…"

"I can't stay here."

Connor kept his head down until he reached the bus station. He read the map, paid for his ticket, and waited for the bus. Vaguely he wondered what time it was and if Haytham was home yet. He wondered if he even knew if Connor had left, or if he actually believed that Connor was off playing with Desmond.

It didn't matter, though, because Connor couldn't stay there. He needed to go home.