Detroit Imagines

Jericho

My nails are non-existent.

"Hurry up, Connor," I say with my fingertips jammed into my mouth. Chilly bloods runs through my veins, thinking of him running into the heart of the android resistance. Will Markus trust him? Will I be waiting for nothing?

Maybe Markus ki—

I stop the thought before it develops. The head of the resistance is known for reason; for wanting peace. Surely Markus will listen. Connor is okay. He will do anything to accomplish his mission.

My ears prick up at the slightest sound. He said he would come back to me. He promised.

Knights of the Black Death fills Hank's living room. I wouldn't have usually listened to a metal record, being so wound up already. But there's something about the chaos and the clanging dissonance that resonates with me, making me feel a little less alone in this empty house.

Hank left hours ago for Jimmy's Bar, and I'm sure he's not going to be back for a while. My poor Lieutenant drowns his problems in a bottle of Black Ram, unable to handle losing another loved one. Not that he could possibly admit that to himself.

My spritely ringtone somehow breaks through Knight's power chords, making me fumble for the answer button. "Connor?"

"Ugh, kid," Hank moans. "I told you not to wait up for him."

Before I can stop myself, the tears start. "I know. I'm just a bit worried about ... the android."

"Cut the shit, Inara! I saw you two last night."

Shit!

The pause was filled with an amalgamation of metal and Hank's basketball commentary.

"That was nothing." I could almost hear Hank's bullshit metre pinging. Hell, I didn't believe me.

His chuckle held anything but humour. "Really? That kiss didn't seem like nothing."

My fingers instinctively traced the outline of my lips. The way Connor had looked at me. His palms caressing my cheek, his towering frame wrapping himself around me. I'd never felt this way about anything, or anyone.

"Y-y-you saw that?" The heat rose in my cheeks, back to my stuttering self. "I wish I went with him."

"And what? Be the only human in the middle of a sea of pissed off androids?" There's a pause, followed by a animated gulp. "Do you have a death wish?"

"No," I whimper.

"I'm on my way." Hank slams down the phone on the receiver.

I don't know how I feel about that. It's no Connor, but surely some company would help.

"Connor's coming back. He will," I whisper.

I revert to my rocking state, rubbing at my red eyes until someone raps at the door, almost making me jump out of my skin. It can't of been more than five minutes since I talked to Hank.

That must mean—

"Connor?" I almost fall flat on my face, my friggin legs can't uncross fast enough.

Nothing.

"Connor?" I practically screech, almost pulling the door right of its hinges.

There he stands. My Connor, not Cyberlife's. He's dressed in a leather jacket and baggy jeans and a charcoal-coloured beanie. Not that he felt the cold.

I have the compulsion to jump and punch him in the face simultaneously. I settle for ripping his charcoal beanie off. "Your voice box broken?" I try to stay angry, avoid the waterworks again. "You had me fucking worried sick!"