Detroit Become Human x Readers

In The Dark [NSFW] (Connor x Reader)

Connor had always told you he’d do anything to accomplish his mission. Anything to reach his goal or get the job done. Even after deviancy, his bloodhound-like nature kept as a large presence whenever you worked a case together. And it always seemed to push you towards risks you normally would not take alone.

Even if this person was your prime suspect, even if you were both confident that they had been the one brutally murdering android after android, what you were doing was technically very illegal, and as members of the police force, get you in a shitton of trouble.

But in Connors’ eyes, it was necessary to finish the mission. So here you both were, in the empty living room of an empty house of a probable serial killer, post what would absolutely be classified as breaking and entering. Not that Connor seemed to care. You spared a glance his way with a soft sigh.

Connor had been stalking back and forth, currently scanning a corner of upturned carpet for god knows what. You yourself had done a once-over with your eyes, searching the modernly decorated room for any signs of criminal behaviour. There was nothing overtly alarming. No blood on the walls or scratch marks, no secret rooms or safes. But you couldn’t deny that something was off. Everything here was too perfect, too clean. The chairs and sofas all had the same width of space between them, everything was monotone colours of black or white. Blocky, artsy furniture that at best looked pretentious and at worst, simply… off.

The room looked like the kind of photo you’d see online, on a real estate website, advertising a house. It looks well put together and pretty. Too pretty to be normal, livable. Too perfect to be where a person would sit with friends and families to have tea and talk about their troubles.

You aired this thought to Connor, who hummed in response. He’d abandoned the carpet in favour of a new target. You watched from across the room as his fingers were ghosting a closet door, his eyes in their deep, gorgeous brown looked like that of a focused blood-hunting hound. It sent a shiver down your spine, prompting you to stare back down at the tablet in your hands, going back to flicking through a touchscreen detailing the suspect’s timetable.

Leon Hall was an unassuming man. Late 40s, divorced and employed as a construction worker. He spent his nights at the nearest pub getting blackout drunk and had been incredibly difficult when called in for questioning about the murder of multiple androids in the area. Photographing a tab opened on what was most definitely an anti-android forum, you decided to pull up some more personal things.

“He’s been late to work quite a lot these recent weeks.” You comment as you take a look at the calendar for his past month. Strangely marked by the hour on when he’d arrived places. The guy was meticulous, you’d give him that. Humming and tapping the tablet thoughtfully, you noted the timestamps when he’d arrived at work varied from 30 minutes to 3 hours late. You pulled out your own notes, comparing the dates.

“They seem to correlate with when the murders occurred.” Supposedly, at least. It was hard to tell with android bodies, which don’t decompose. Nevertheless, it seemed this suspect wasn’t the master criminal, after all, judging by how open the idiot is about wanting them dead. Seems like Leon was another robo-racist, killing off innocent androids in fear-driven reactionary violence. Typical.

“There are traces of thirium in the carpet, and it leads to the bedroom,” Connor told you as you laid the tablet down exactly as you’d found it. Your stomach lurched unpleasantly.

“He didn’t kill them here did he?” You ask, sickened by the thought. Connor shook his head, crossing his arms as he looked around the room once more. Always so to the point with his work, you wished he would just loosen up for once. You think he’d enjoy it.