Detroit Become Human x Readers

Stay (Feelings Ending 1)

CONFLICTING ORDERS

That’s all Connor can see. Red letters. Big, capitalized letters and words. Letters and words blocking out his view. Blocking out the snow, blocking out your words of attempted persuasion and the orders he has had since he was created. Everything is blocked out. Leaving him alone to decide for himself.

CHOOSING PRIORITY

It’s easy to choose.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t choose.

He’s never had to.
His path was already chosen.

SHOOT MARKUS

His head jerks toward the barricaded crowd, far below.

His mission.

FOLLOW THEM

Then it’s back to staring at you, walking away.

A liability.

That is what you’ve always been. Filling his head with wrong opinions, false emotions. Attempting to twist him to be another way- another person- based on your own feelings. Had he the capacity, he would pity you. You and your emotions. They always sent you down the wrong path. Both of you.

Sparing the Traci’s, Chloe, the deviant on the roof. They were distractions, and nothing more. Your demands, pleas to keep these deviants safe only worked for so long. Now he was seeing clearly. For a police officer, you really weren’t efficient at your job. You were supposed to kill these deviants. And then you were supposed to kill him- both of which you failed. If you were so weak that you could not do your job -so badly that you could not even achieve the other- then he would pick up the slack.

There’s the sound of a shutting door, but it tells Connor nothing interesting. Just the absence of a nuisance. You’re gone for good, and he knows it. There’s the slightest smirk as he begins to reload his sniper.

He’d managed to get you to leave so easily. Had he known before that all it would have taken to get you out of the way was a quick and brutal rejection, he would have done it days ago. Now he had a clear head, now he was finally back on track.

Setting himself back up, Connor finds himself trained on the target that should have been dead 7 minutes and 34 seconds ago. He was lagging behind, and Amanda sure wasn’t going to like that. Closing one eye he aims, right at the Deviant leaders head.

And down below you walk. Slowly, with a sluggish pace. You’d heard him prepare the gun, and you knew what was about to happen.

Not 5 minutes before you were sure that Connor would never have hurt you, now you feel lucky you’re nearly 3 floors away, with the distance growing. You thought you knew him, you thought you loved him.

Maybe you did once. An hour ago, a week ago when you’d first met. But now you felt no trace of love as you walked out into the frozen Detroit street. No, there’s only pain in your chest where your heart used to be as you walk back to Hanks car.

There’s only an ache in your head as you raise your hand to signal Hank, walking between buildings anxiously, with a stance that spoke more for his anger than his voice ever could.

And there’s only a ringing in your ears when you hear the crack of a gunshot, and the distant screaming for the voice of a people cut short mid-speech.

The voice of a people now doomed.