Catch of Breath

Chapter 3: Human

February 2nd, 2039

08:43 am

Once more, Connor waited patiently for the Lieutenant to finish his choking cough.

"Ugh, I need a drink....," he hissed into the receiver. Shortly after there were steps audible and the refrigerator's door clicked.

Since Hank was sick he became truly ... difficult to handle. He was turning down any help but kept complaining.

No, not simply complaining.

He was whining, taking advantage of his situation to spell out every single curse he could ever think of. Connor often had to surrender, there was no use in arguing with this old snarky man. He had his own ways of dealing with him.

"Yes but please don't start drink-" Connor tried to interfere, but was cut off immediately by Hank yelling.

"For God's sake Connor! Leave me alone! I have the flu! I'm not gonna fucking die! Now just do your fucking work!"

And with that, he ended the phone call.

Only at his worse, he was genuinely appreciating Connors help. That was the case last week. Hank was tired and had a runny nose. Always needing one or two seconds to react.

He blamed the weather.

Connor trusted Hank with him telling when he needs some rest. But Hank said he was fine.

He was frightened when he witnessed the Lieutenant collapse in front of the house. Shaking hands, heavy movements and sweat on his forehead were indications for his state, but Connor did not expect Hank to break down right in front of their doorstep.

Just like that.

He carried him inside checking on him, putting him to bed and preparing some water and medicine. It was a long night. And if Connor would be able to feel exhausted, he would have been. After Hank finally went to sleep he was mumbling a feeble 'thank you, son' before drifting off to sleep.

That night Connor and Sumo were watching TV until dawn.

Now he was listening to 3 short beeps.

He was sincerely offended that Hank was so angry with him. His only intention was to make sure he was alright. For a moment he was looking at his phone watching the red icon blink.

However, the thought of Hanks expression realizing that he locked away all the alcoholic beverages gave him a small boost of confidence.

It was for his own benefit. Hank's excessive consumption improved, but he was still a heavy drinker.

A tender silhouette appeared at his desk. Putting down the phone he raised his eyes to regard the person in front of him.

Detective Amelia Mary Rockwell

25years old

no criminal record

Connor has never seen Miss Rockwell at the DPD before. Perhaps she was new. At least, her insecure posture was a giveaway. She was nervously scanning the area for a distraction. It was not hard to see she felt uncomfortable.

He'd really liked to analyze her profile furthermore, but recently Hank said its rude to scan peoples private information. Now he was limited to get just the basic profile. He said it was more interesting to get to know people in person anyway.

"May I help you, Miss?" he greeted the young Detective with a reassuring smile.

The Miss shyly put her hands into her pockets, raising up her shoulders, making herself smaller. Uncertainty covered her face, her eyes slowly coming to rest, but still avoiding to meet his. Did he do something wrong?