Child of the Wilderness

***

“What do you see when you look at the sky?” you asked, hands clasped behind your head as you lied down on the thick grass in the forest. It was your birthday and you made Sherlock go with you to your favourite spot – a clearing in the nearby woods which most kids avoided. Adults used to scare kids with the tales of hungry wolves roaming the forest at night. And it was true, those who lived close to the woods could often hear them howling. But no one has ever actually seen a wolf in person. Was it the reason why you refused to stay away from the clearing? No amount of talking was enough to scare you away from visiting it late at night. And no amount of refusing was enough for you to give up the idea of bringing Sherlock with you to stargaze.

“I obviously see the same thing you do. The atmosphere and outer space, with thousands of celestial objects, most of them long since gone,” Sherlock answered. As per usual, he was almost annoyed by the sheer uselessness of your questions. Never once had you asked him a question he’d like to answer. Most of them were useless, plain stupid even.

Bu that night was unlike any other.

Your laugh caused him to shift his head towards you. He was lying on the grass beside you, with his hands crossed on his chest. You didn’t even bother looking at him at that moment. “You’re wrong,” you stated simply. The confidence with which you said that confused him even further. He was never wrong. Especially when talking to you.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your eyes opened, but you didn’t look his way. Instead, your gaze focused on the stars once more. And a smile sprouted on your face, as if they had just told you a secret that was meant for you and you only. “You don’t see the same thing that I do.”

Your words were a puzzle. Sometimes you spoke in those annoying puzzles. For some reason, you felt the need to mix your emotions into the world you were seeing. Sherlock found it harmless, but nevertheless – annoying. The world was just a world, and most people viewed it the same way. The only differences came from conditions like short-, and far-sightedness, colour-blindness, or some other type of visual impairment. From what he’d known, there were no such differences between the two of you, meaning that you saw the world in the exact same way.

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t.”

“So what do you see?” he asked, tired of speaking in circles. Knowing your stubbornness, you could go on for hours, arguing for the sake of arguing with him. And since you couldn’t have had any substantial support for your statement, he wanted to get it out of the way as quickly as he could.

“Do you really want to know?” you asked, shifting your head to finally look his way. But it was at that moment that he decided to look away from you and back at the night sky.

“Not really,” he responded truthfully.

Oddly enough, your smile grew ever so slightly upon hearing his words. He knew that you valued his honesty. No matter how ill-mannered, you always told him to stay that way. That no matter what other people had told him, his honesty was one of his best traits.

“I knew it,” you said proudly. And before he had the time to muster a smart response, you said: “I’m going to tell you anyway.”

“Why?” In his mind, your actions didn’t make any sense. Why ask him, if you already knew the answer? Why tell him if you’d known he had no desire to hear it?

“Because I want to.”

The same response you had given multiple times before. You did a lot of things for that sole reason. Acting on impulses and whims was something he’d seen of you so many times before in the past, you’d think he would have gotten used to it by that point. But the sheer stupidity of this excuse made it so much harder. Maybe he expected more from you. Why did he, anyway…

“Go on.” Sherlock closed his eyes, ready to drift off into his mind palace if needed.

“I see infinity,” were your first words. Not untrue. Perhaps that was why he decided against retreating to his mind palace; instead, choosing to listen to your words. “No matter how hard we try, we cannot count the stars. We cannot see the entire universe. It is so far away, unbothered by whatever problems we may be facing in our everyday life.”

“Of course it is. It doesn’t have the capacity to be bothered,” Sherlock interrupted, once again irritated by your word puzzles.

“Just like you, huh?” a quick laugh escaped your lips before you decided to continue. “But think about it. Billions of people. Trillions of problems. Looking at it from high above, none of that matters. Our failed exam will not change the star constellations. Someone getting divorced will not have any impact on the sky. Whole lifetimes could easily get forgotten if looked at from the perspective of the stars. So far away…”

He didn’t understand your… fascination. It seemed like a good word to describe what you must have been feeling at that time. You spoke in a voice which he’d only heard from you whenever you discovered something you found fascinating. And because of that, despite his lack of understanding, he decided to just lie there and listen to what you had to say.

“And yet… we care so much. We give pain so much control over us. In the end, it doesn’t matter. It’s all just a moment in the universe’s history. How come no one realises it? So many people gaze at the stars. Hundreds of eyes looking at the exact same thing we’re looking at right now. And everyone sees something different. Thinks of different things… How can something so simple be so beautiful?”

“The wolves.” Sherlock sat up, upon hearing the howling in the forest. He looked around, trying to locate the source of the ominous sound.

“Let them be. They are just sounds in the dark. They can’t do anything to you.”

***

Years later, he was almost unable to recognise you.

The wild girl musing over the sky was so unlike the shell of a woman that was sitting in his chair, staring into nothingness. Your face was pale and bruised. There was also blood dried up on the side of your mouth. You seemed not to notice it, however. Fixing your gaze on some document laying in front of you. Sherlock knew – you didn’t even see what you’d been staring at. It was an empty gaze. One he’d never seen on you before.

“I’m sorry. There was nothing we could have done,” he told you, draping a blanket over your shoulders. It was not the first case to go wrong in his life. But never before had the unpredictable impacted his case so heavily. He never would have suspected that the two victims of the recent kidnapping were you and your fiancé. Had he known… maybe he would have prepared differently. Maybe he would have factored in your whim-driven instinct while thinking of a way out. Maybe he would have been more cautious for his own human error.

Maybe he would have found a way to save your fiancé’s life.

But that was not what had happened.

Instead, he only managed to rescue you. Having to practically drag you out of the top of that roof, knowing that, if left alone, you would have clung to your fiancé’s dead body and let yourself get killed in the process. Even at that moment, while you were silently sitting in his chair, he could hear your screams of anguish. Sherlock had heard many of them in his life. But never from you. Never so full of pain. Never so painful to him.

You didn’t respond to his words. Instead, your gaze turned left, and Sherlock noticed your jaw clenching. Normally, he’d expect the person to take a moment to find some spiteful words to throw his way. To blame him for the death of a loved one. To yell and shout.

But he forgot. You were unlike any other person.

You didn’t yell. Or shout. Only a single tear escaped your eye, before you decided to shut both of them completely. But your expression didn’t change. It remained cold and empty. Unlike what he would have expected from regular people. Unlike what he would have expected from you.

“I’ll go.” You got up and headed to the door. Not looking his way for even one second. So many times in the past, he’d wished that you would simply ignore him and go your own way. But this was the first time you’d actually done it. And it hurt. It felt like ripping a page from a book. Ripping this pleasant familiarity out of his life.

How could he have let you go?

For the next few days, those two words rang in his head like giant bells. I’ll go. No laugh. I’ll go. No shouting. I’ll go. No word puzzle that he could have tried to find a rational explanation for. I’ll go.

I’ll go. I’ll go. I’ll go. I’ll go.

Did he mean nothing to you?

Why did your lack of reaction mean so much to him?

It took him a week to gather himself up and visit you. It wasn’t that hard to find your apartment – turned out that you lived surprisingly nearby. Getting you to open your door to him, on the other hand, was a whole another type of ordeal.

“(Y/N), open the door.” He tried doing it calmly. But you calmly refused. Sherlock could only listen to your voice crack from the other side of the door, unable to do anything else than try again. “Let me in,” he tried again, in a pleading tone. Just like you had never acted like this towards him, he’d never acted like this towards you. He never pleaded. He never asked for anything.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why did you come here?” your voice was quiet, almost inaudible. What Sherlock didn’t know was that you leaned on the door, slowly sliding down until you were sitting. Your arms embracing your legs in a desperate attempt of comforting yourself. Obviously, there was no comfort. No light. The world was enveloped in a darkness which you weren’t able to comprehend.

Why did Sherlock come to see you? He wasn’t sure if he’d known himself. For years, he didn’t bother himself to even think of you. It would have been useless. But once you made your way back into his life, you just had to do it in such an impossible situation. With any other person, he might have been able to save both you and your fiancé. But just the sight of you, the first one in so many years, impaired his judgement. And an innocent man had to pay the price.

How could he explain any of that?

“Because… I wanted to.” He decided to explain it the same way you would usually explain your illogical actions. For his actions were illogical, even to him. Sherlock Holmes was not a person willingly coming to see people in their time of grief. He was not a person that would willingly subject himself to being a shoulder to cry on.

He himself didn’t understand it.

Neither did you.

The tables have indeed turned.

For the first time it was you who noticed something he was unable to. You noticed that your roles got reversed. That it was him chasing you, instead of you continuously imposing your presence on him. In your years apart, you sometimes recalled those school years, getting embarrassed by the memory. You were just a kid, feeling so alone. Despite the crowds surrounding you at nearly all times, there was never a person to whom you would have wanted to open up. So when you saw a boy who was brave enough to be alone, you decided that he would be the person to whom you could show the real you. Not the class jokester, but a dreamer who wanted to get lost in the stars. At that time, you didn’t stop to think that perhaps he didn’t need that kind of person. That if he didn’t want it, you should have backed off. That you should have respected his boundaries.

And now, that loner boy, who never understood your fascination with the stars, was sitting on the other side of the door, returning the same favour to you. Why did he do that? Did he somehow feel responsible? He said it himself, there was nothing he could have done. So why was he there?

“Why are you here?” you asked, feeling tears sting your eyes again.

Sherlock fell silent for a few moments. It was so silent that you started to think that perhaps he had already left. But after what seemed like forever, you could hear the quietest of his whispers.

“Because you… you make me feel like I’m not good enough,” Sherlock finally voiced the elusive thought. Most of the time, he was able to predict the unpredictable. There were very few variables that were able to escape him. And yet, he was unable to predict anything concerning you. What happened the night before… was a proof that he was still capable of making mistakes. Enormous ones. Which he would never be able to forgive himself.

It was at that moment that Sherlock could hear you turning the doorknob to open the door.

Your puffy eyes were exactly how he expected them to be. Your hair was a mess, and it was clear that the baggy clothes you were wearing used to belong to your fiancé. It was the first time that he truly took his time to look at you.

How could something so simple be so beautiful?

You stood in silence for a few moments. None of you knew what to do. Not having seen each other in years, it was easy for you to forget how to act around him. He wasn’t like any other person, after all.

Sherlock, on the other hand, remembered it clearly. How you used to act around him. Whenever there was a thought, which was too hard to utter loudly, you would slowly approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. To this day, he remembered the way your heart used to beat against his chest.

And although he never did it himself, he decided to be the first to approach you. At first it was awkward, for both of you. He lifted his arms, as if waiting for you to make your way into his embrace the way you used to. But when you didn’t, he hesitated, wondering if maybe letting his arms drop would be a better idea. It took him a second before he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

Your arms remained by your side for an uncomfortable period of time. You didn’t feel like hugging him back. You wanted him to be hugging you. Not Sherlock...

“I know it’s hard.” Words were never Sherlock’s strong point. “But you need to go on with your life.”

As much as he was right, in that moment it was impossible for you to let go. There were too many things that reminded you of your dead fiancé. That whole apartment felt like a cage of memories. Getting smaller and smaller every hour. Even you realised that the longer you stayed in, the faster it would eat you up. “How can I go on…” you whispered, and Sherlock felt a shiver running down his spine. The fear in your voice. He’d never heard it before. And it grasped his heart in a tight, painful embrace.

“It’s all just a moment in the universe’s history.” Sherlock heard himself say. He had no idea why this sentence found its way into his mouth. Maybe it was because, in some way, your words impressed him back then. How maturely you looked at the issue of pain. Of course, those were just musings of a kid who had never truly been hurt.

But you remembered them just as well as he did.

“In the end, it doesn’t matter…” you heard yourself say.

***

The night was dark, but it was hard to see any stars.

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked, pulling the edges of Sherlock’s coat closer. How come that in the past you could walk to the forest in the middle of the night in just a T-shirt and some shorts? Maybe it was the London air that was colder. Maybe it was the world that got colder.

“I want to hear what you see when you look at the sky,” Sherlock told you, sitting on the grass. It was not the same clearing from years ago, but just as you’d said, it was the same sky above you. And he wanted to awake the same girl who’d told him that years prior.

Hesitantly, you sat down beside him, but you were unable to look up at the sky. Of course, there was still a lot of love for it in your heart, but it turned bittersweet. The person who told you the secrets of the sky’s infinity was dead now. And you were afraid to look at the stars again. You were afraid to see that the sky hasn’t changed at all.

Seeing you keep your gaze on the ground, Sherlock again decided to follow in the footsteps of the girl who broke through all his barriers. He positioned himself closer to you, so he could wrap his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. The stars were not as shiny as they had been years prior. But he needed you to look at them again.

How could you tell Sherlock that the stars were not just yours to have. That you shared them with the person he didn’t manage to save. That it was this person who made you feel like the stars were made just for you. That the mere thought of stars flooded your mind with memories. And they were still so painful...

“I can still hear him.” Your voice cracked again. Sherlock could see that, just like the day before, your eyes stopped seeing whatever was in front of them. Instead, you retreated to whatever prison of your own mind you had created after that tragic night. “His words…”

“Let them be.” Sherlock said, instinctively tightening his grip of you. “They are just sounds in the dark.”

You sighed at his words.

Clara Stern’s smile was still a heart-warming view. The days of their relationship were long since over, but he never forgot the feelings he once had for the girl. It was thanks to her and her mother that the AI of Chloe was so complex.

Clara was sitting beside Isaac, whose arms even then held scars left by the hard work of putting the early versions of androids together. Elijah and Isaac often joked about being twins, since both of them used to have very visible dark circles under their eyes from working late at night.

Martin was the eldest of their group and the only one whose first major wasn’t related to robotics. He always used to say that he was most importantly an artist, not caring about the influence he had as the designer of the androids’ body structure and facial features.

Dean was only two years older than Elijah and at that time he was still in college. However, he was he was one of the most incredibly skilled programmers; the base codes written by him were used even in the modern androids, made years after he left. But had he never left CyberLife, there wouldn’t have been a need to replace androids’ coding, as they could be reused with ease. Unfortunately, as the original crew left CyberLife, so did most of its ideals and opportunities.

And the last one. The representative of the ethics. The guardian of robotics’ decency, as you liked to call yourself. The most daring of them all. The only person who had nothing to do with androids themselves - and yet, the company wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for her. His best friend, the one who brought this group together in the first place. And the first girl he ever had a crush on.

(Y/N).

You were always the closest one to him. It was your idea that instead of selling his early AI system to some bigger companies, the corrupted soul-eaters, he should start his own business, so that he would never have to watch his creation being used in the wrong way. It was your idea that none of the androids should have facial features of already existing people. And you were an ideal for him. You were the dazzling star, the charismatic representative who could convince almost everyone to do almost everything. It was your charisma that set the path to success while finding the first investors. But you were always too elusive for him to even think about taking his chance with you. Instead, he treasured you as his best friend.

The original CyberLife, the pioneers. Each one of them was unique and irreplaceable. The moment they left, CyberLife lost its soul.

It happened in stages: the first one was Martin. He could easily be considered a stereotypical artist who couldn’t bear the harsh reality of this world. He’d drugged himself to death a week before Chloe passed the Turing test. The following year there were troubles with publicity after a slight malfunction in the program of one of the Chloes. It was a small, harmless mistake but Dean didn’t handle it well and decided to leave. Elijah and Clara began dating that same year. Nearly half a year later, Isaac began having problems with health. He was no longer able to oversee the manufacturing of every android and almost ruined his health by trying. Elijah was convinced that Isaac’s decision originated from the pressure the board was putting onto him. Later on, he would find out that it had nothing to do with them.

It was one of the worst moments for Elijah. He distanced himself from Clara and drowned in his work. A project he had in mind for a while now.

...

“May I come in?” a soft voice following a knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. He smiled, even though it was a grim smile.

“Sure,” he answered simply, pulling back from the android he was working on. It didn’t even have a face at that moment. But a face was not what would eventually make this android the most unique out of all of Elijah’s creations.

“Are you okay?” you asked, taking a chair and positioning it on the other side of the table the android was on. With other people, you’d try to disguise how uneasy you felt. But it was Elijah, so there was no need to pretend. "Clara is worried about you, you know.”

“I’m alright...” he replied, before letting out a forced laugh, not looking his friend to the eye. This only served to worry you more. 

“That’s bullshit,” you cocked your brow, not taking your gaze off of him. Your words made him snap his head up and look at you. He rarely let his feelings show, so most people wouldn’t bother asking further. But you were not most people. You knew him better than everyone. “You know you’re not good at pretending when it comes to me. So...” you leaned in the chair more comfortably. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

Elijah sighed. Of course, there was no point in hiding things from you, but that didn’t mean that it was so easy to speak about what was bothering him. He turned his head once more towards the android. “Isaac left.” he said simply.

Had he looked into your eyes, he would have seen how his words made you relax a little. “I know,” your voice was calm, and this made him turn one more time to face you. In his mind, that was unacceptable. How could you be so calm about this? They already lost half of their group, one of which for good. “I was the one who convinced him.”

“You... what?” your words made him turn his whole posture towards you, causing him to carelessly hit the android’s torso with his arm. Elijah hissed at the pain. But he quickly collected himself; he couldn’t show weakness, not even in front of you. Instead, he took a deep breath to collect his emotions. “Why did you do that?” he asked coldly.

Your face remained still, unbothered by his sudden outburst. “He wanted to leave,” you said as if it was enough for an explanation. But as you noticed the questioning look on Elijah’s face, you sighed before continuing. “He doesn’t feel like carrying on with this. He’s tired, Elijah...” you took one of his hands in yours, but he snapped it away almost immediately. “You should know... the only reason why he even considered staying was not to let you down.” those words managed to knock some sense into him. His expression softened somewhat as he turned his gaze away. “I think...” you began, once more trying to grab his hand. This time he didn’t oppose. “...you should respect his choice.”

Elijah let out a breath, before sinking in his chair again. It took him a moment before he spoke again. “Aren’t you tired of always being the voice of reason?” he forced himself to say this in a lighter tone. But even though he understood your point, it wasn’t any easier to think about losing another friend.

You offered him one of your warmest smiles. Even though he’d agreed not to make any android look like an actual person, both he and Martin decided that giving Chloe a smile resembling yours would greatly improve her looks. “I know it’s hard for you,” you traced small circles on his palm. “But you have to understand; we spent so many years creating CyberLife. Sometimes it feels as if that’s all we ever did. It’s as if we never had our chance to be young...” your voice got quieter at the last words.

Elijah often forgot about it. He was always so driven and ambitious that he could easily forget that Martin gave up his dream to live in Florence to ensure his company’s success. Dean never finished college. And even you... Late at night, when Clara and Dean were heading home, Martin was sleeping on the floor of your basement, Isaac’s snoring ass spread on the couch, the two of you were sitting on the porch, discussing your dreams and plans for the future. Elijah mostly talked of CyberLife. You told him about the places you wished to see, things you’d like to achieve. You were a bright personality and it was only at that moment that he realised how CyberLife slowly drained that light from you.

“So what, you’re tired too?” he asked jokingly, looking back at your (Y/E/C) eyes. You smiled weakly at him, taking your hand away. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him to know something was off. And as he looked deep into your eyes, all of a sudden... he understood everything.

Elijah finally let the veil drop and reveal the horrible truth. Why you helped Isaac make up his mind about leaving. Why you spoke of being tired, of missing your youth. Most importantly... why you were here at that moment... He swallowed hard before looking away. “So not only do I have to let him go... I have to let you go as well?”

You sighed, pursing your lips into a thin line. You knew he wouldn’t like this, and you couldn’t blame him. Ever since the beginning you’d hoped that you would never stop being friends, even if CyberLife hadn’t succeeded. This hope turned bittersweet after Martin’s death, but it was still there. It was only after Dean left that you realised: as long as you were involved with CyberLife, you wouldn’t have time for those outside of the company. So if you left, nothing about your friendship would remain the same.

That was why you got up and kneeled beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his lap. “I know that it’s going to be hard. And that everything will change...” you began carefully. It was hard to find the right words. Although you had already made up your mind, it wasn’t an easy decision. “But CyberLife’s position on the market is already secure. Truth is, the company doesn’t even need me anymore. And now...” you looked up to see Elijah staring at you, tears glimmering in his eyes. He would never let himself cry in front of you, but he was so close to doing so. “I have enough money, and once I leave I will also have enough time. I already made sure your dream can come true,” you smiled and felt your own tears running down your cheeks. “Now it’s time I focus on mine...” your voice cracked and you felt his arms hugging you tightly. He didn’t want to let you go. But if that’s what you wanted... He couldn’t take it away from you.

...

He sighed contently at his past. Now that he had time to learn how to distance himself from it, he didn’t want to change anything. He only wished he was more courageous, that he could swallow his pride and worries and simply call one of his friends. Talk and relax, just like the old times. Elijah knew Dean had moved back to his parents’ house in Colbridge, so contacting him wouldn’t be much of a problem. He could also visit Isaac, since he still lived in Detroit. He knew this, because they all had shares in CyberLife, so he could easily access information about them. You and Clara were a different story. Clara suffered severely after her mother’s death. She broke up with Elijah and cut herself completely from anything related to CyberLife. And you took your shares for two years after leaving the company and then went on to travel around the globe. There were no messages from you ever since 2025.

The image on the TV disappeared as a videochat icon appeared. It was the original Chloe back in Detroit. Something was up - his androids weren’t programmed to contact him without any particular reason. He disconnected the TV, pressed „RECEIVE” on his phone and watched Chloe’s smiling face appearing on the screen.

“What is it, Chloe?” he asked.

“Someone is trying to contact you.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His phone was working perfectly fine, anyone who wished to call him would have no problem. And Chloe’s social protocol was set to a different phrase if someone knocked on the door of his house.

Unless... Someone hacked Chloe.

Although most people would be furious at the idea of their android being hacked, the thought brought a smile to his face. During the last decade and a half there were lots of attempts at breaking the coding of CyberLife’s androids, but only very few talented individuals could do it. And none of them learned how to do that without physically connecting the android to a computer. There were only five people in this world who knew Chloe’s program well enough to even attempt something like that.

“Who is it?” he asked in a calm voice. Even though his young self awakened within him, the cold exterior of his 36 year old self remained the same. He was curious, yes. But that didn’t mean he had to show it.

“(Y/N) sent a voice message. Should I play it?” Chloe asked, still smiling. Of course, you hadn’t talked in years, so you didn’t have his number. And the old system used in the original Chloe didn’t allow to converse live, so obviously this was the only way you could contact him directly.

“Do it,” Elijah said, putting Chloe on speaker and getting up to fetch himself another drink. 

“Hi kid,” your voice changed over the years, but it was still the voice of his best friend. “I know it’s probably the last thing you expected today, but... I’m back in town!” you laughed, but he could easily tell something was off. Surprisingly, this ability of his remaiend unchanged after all those years. 

“And, uhm... Look... I need your help.” Elijah turned his head towards the phone, but the android’s expression didn’t change. “I understand if you’re busy or if you don’t feel like talking to me, but... Fuck...” he frowned, not knowing what to expect. “I really need your help, Elijah. I sent Chloe my number. Call me when you can, please...”

The two of you didn’t talk in like... 13 years? But he still had his ways of knowing when you were really desperate. And this voicemail was reeking of desperation.

“Should I call her?” Chloe asked, as if nothing happened.

“No,” he said. A few years ago, he would call you in a heartbeat. But even though the memories and the voicemail awakened something deep within him, he was no longer this young boy you knew. His ways changed now. “Locate her phone and send a car for her.  I will meet her in Detroit.” he then smirked to himself and headed towards his suitcase. Guess he was coming home earlier than planned. “Make sure she has everything she needs when she comes.” he told Chloe before ending the call.

...

It took him 2 hours to come back and by that time, you were already waiting for him in his pool room. Elijah noticed that you must have made yourself comfortable, since he heard your favourite song coming from the speakers. You were standing by the window, the lights outside making your figure just a dark silhouette from his point of view. He stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring the beautiful scenery you managed to create with your presence alone, before finally making his way towards you. And the closer he got, the more he could see.

Elijah took in your appearance. Oh, you changed over the years. Your figure and (Y/H/C) didn’t change much, but the aura surrounding you for sure was different. The girl who was bold enough to challenge big companies in her early twenties was replaced by a mature woman. You grew up. But there was something else that caused a smirk to grow on his face.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” he asked curiously, causing you to startle a little. His smirk grew wider as he looked at the worn out Colbridge shirt you had on. He was always taller, so the shirt looked more like a loose dress on you. 

Even though he surprised you, you didn’t lose your composure. Instead, you offered him a sheepish smile, something that didn’t change at all since the last time. “My clothes got wet. It was raining when the car picked me up,” your eyes searched his and Elijah immediately noticed the familiar, playful spark. “By the way, when did you get so dramatic? Don’t you think it would have been easier to call me back first? Before practically kidnapping me?” he only laughed in response, as the song hit its last notes. “I think my clothes should have dried by now. I’ll go change.” you tried to move past him, but he grabbed your arm.

“Please,” you looked up and involunterily swallowed at his mischievous smirk. You weren’t used to him being like that. He was never the confident type. He could be bold in business, but you still remembered how socially awkward he’d been. “Don’t take it off... It looks good on you.” his voice also got deeper. All of a sudden you couldn’t remember if he was always this good-looking under the glasses and greasy hair.

However tempting, it wasn’t the time for thoughts like these. So instead of locking your eyes with his, you turned your gaze from him and let out a laugh. “Okay...” you said, pulling back. He let go of your arm and moved to sit on one of the chairs.

The silence was deafening. At least for you. Years ago you wouldn’t mind it, as you used to be so comfortable around each other. But over ten years had passed since you were in the same room together and the way he changed didn’t make it easier for you to reconnect with him.

Elijah, on the other hand, enjoyed the silence and how for once it was him who felt more confident. He kept his gaze fixed on you. He could break the silence at any moment, but he wanted to take his time to look at you. Examine you. Because even after all those years, there was still this warmth whenever he thought about you. For a moment he wondered how much had changed about you...

“You said,” he began, turning his gaze towards Carl’s painting on the wall, wondering how his RK200 was doing. Whether everything was going according to plan. “that you needed my help.” he could see you crossing your arms. “What exactly do you need?”

Your gaze dropped to your feet and he somewhat expected what your problem could be. Or rather how hard it was. If it had been a mere inconvenience, you would have already spilled it. But if you were hesitant to even talk about it, Elijah knew how helpless you had to feel. That’s why he reached out his hand and softly grabbed yours. “Hey, you can tell me,” his voice got softer. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. “I’m there for you, remember? Always...”

You smiled a little at this. After the board meeting where your leaving was announced, you made this promise. That even if you had troubles keeping in touch, you’d always be there in case of an emergency. That was what you needed - to know that your Elijah was still there. That’s why you decided to just tell him.

“My house was burned down...” your voice was only slightly louder than a whisper, but Elijah’s eyes widened as if you just screamed in his face. It was known that he was not one to be surprised easily. But that also wasn’t something he expected to hear. You turned to look at him and noticed how speechless he was. So instead of waiting for him to say something, you went on. “There are many people who resent androids... and everything associated with them. You can guess they weren’t fond of one of the earliest CyberLife employees’ house in their neighbourhood." you fiddled with your fingers, taking in a breath. “I got back from Tangier as soon as I heard. But turns out...” you took a breath before closing your eyes. “There’s nothing left. I have nothing...” you gulped before continuing. “I used my share of CyberLife to travel the world. I have enough money from publishing a travelling book, but I know soon it won’t be enough for me to support myself.” you let out a sigh. You hated being so helpless. “I wouldn’t ask for help if I had any other choice. And I know you’re no longer the CEO, but... maybe you could help me go back? CyberLife has a lot of problems now, I think they might use some help...”

Elijah needed a moment to process it all. He understood that you would never ask for help if you could dig yourself out of the mess, but that? He didn’t expect you to come back to his life being a homeless person. 

“You can stay here,” he finally spoke, getting up to call one of the Chloes.

“No, I have a place for now,” you felt guilty enough for asking him for help after all those years. “you don’t have to...”

“I don’t care that I don’t have to,” his change of tone got you silent in a second. He was back to his new self, one you weren’t so used to. “You’re my best friend and I won’t have you stay in some shady place when someone can hurt you. You’re staying.” it wasn’t a question or even a statement. It was a demand.

Most people would be scared or at the very least nervous. In a way, you were too, but there was something else about that change. Something that made you smile. 

You were proud of him. The genius nerdy boy that used to hang out in your parents’ basement grew up to be a confident man who didn’t take no for an answer.

“Thank you...” you smiled, finally feeling comfortable enough to envelop the man in a warm hug. He took a second to wrap his arms around your shoulders and rest his cheek on top of your head. Even though his house still had the same cold décor, he felt so much warmth wrapped around him. Only you were a person bright enough to light up his world.

After a moment, he pulled back to look at you. So much had changed, but even more remained the same. And with you there, beside him, and with the same warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of you... Maybe that was the moment that he could take his chance.

“You said you wrote a travel book?” he asked, wrapping one arm around your waist and guiding you out of the pool room. His living room had much more space to sit comfortably, and you had so much to talk about. He wanted to listen how your dreams came true.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” his voice didn’t change, he was still calm and collected. Perks of being an android: their voice could rarely betray their emotions. But there were other ways of telling when their programs had trouble comprehending.

“I know you miss him.” Hank’s death was what made the two of you partners. But still, it hung over your heads like a stormy sky. Whenever you behaved like his previous partner, his first friend, you could see him glitching. It was subtle, momentary loss of control over his body. But it was the equivalent of human’s voice cracking and eyes tearing up. It was the pain… And you hated being the cause behind it.

“Go home, Detective,” he regained control and began collecting the papers on your desk. Some of the information you were working with were too important to put online, that’s why you still had lots of the old-fashioned documents all around. Another little thing that reminded Connor of Hank. “I’ll take care of this.”

“No, no, I can do it.” I got up and tried to stop him, but he took my hands in his halfway through. His artificial skin was cool, compared to a human. But it was calming…

“Go home,” he repeated, his brown eyes piercing through you. And although his voice sounded more firm this time, his hold on your hands remained gentle. Your heart skipped a beat, but… why… “Your productivity level has dropped significantly. It would be highly recommended for you to take a break and rest before going back to work.” you swallowed, before taking a step back. It felt nice, having Connor hold your hands like that, but at the same time it made you nervous. You weren’t used to such tenderness, you realised.

“Are you sure?” you asked, already feeling guilty for leaving him with all the work. You should be more productive, you should have done more…

All Connor did was smile at you. “I’m sure, you should use some rest.”

“Thanks,” you just muttered, gathering all your stuff from the desk. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that after this fight, you wouldn’t get much rest at home. These days you could hardly rest…

later that night

Connor opened his eyes and looked around.

The playground by the river was quiet. The only sound that came to the android’s ears was the howling, winter wind. Connor watched the leaves dancing on the sidewalk as they flew towards the old bench. Towards the grey-haired man with a bottle in his hands.

“Took you some time, huh?” Hank asked as Connor sat beside him on the bench. He didn’t have to look at his partner to know that he was smirking. “I get it though.” the man took a gulp of the beer. “It must suck to have a dead man as a guide.”

“I’m glad it’s you…” Connor said quietly. Having Hank in his former Zen Garden was a big improvement. After deleting Amanda it was… too empty in there. Connor figured that disconnecting her code from CyberLife and adding modifications based on his memories with Lt. Anderson would make her more reliable… adding Hank as an interface was a pure formality.

But the realization that the man sitting beside him was nothing more than a line of code in his program… it hurt. Most of the time it hurt so much that this change seemed to be an obvious mistake…

And then came days like these. When he was desperate for even that simple line of code.

“I’m worried about (Y/N)…” Connor voiced his thoughts. Worries concerning his friend were clouding his mind, blocking him. “The more time I spend thinking if she’s alright, the less time we have to work on this investigation.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’re worried about.” Hank mocked him, shaking the bottle. There was little of the liquid left.

“What do you mean?”

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! You’ve always been blind to your emotions, but in this case it’s pretty fucking obvious.” Hank turned to him, placing his big hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You love that girl, admit it.”

“She has a boyfriend.” Connor muttered, taking the coin out of the pocket of his pants. Even while exploring the depths of his mind, he still felt the need to occupy himself.

“She’s got a leech, not a boyfriend.” Hank shook his head, taking his hand away. After a moment of silence from Connor, as he continued the tricks with the coin, Hank stood up and turned in the direction of the playground. Connor’s gaze remained fixed on the river. “You know, if I were you, I would kick his ass for treating her like shit.”

“It’s her personal life, I shouldn’t interfere.” the coin flew in between his fingers. He didn’t catch it.

“Bullshit.” Hank called him out. “She’s your friend. And you’re in love with her. God, why are you making this so complicated?” the android didn’t respond. “There’s nothing else I can do for you, Connor. Now it’s all up to you.”

Connor opened his eyes and looked around.

The cemetery was quiet. All he heard was the wind. And all he was left with was a tombstone.

a few days later

“Fuck you!” you yelled, storming off to the kitchen. On days like this you’ve got enough. Such fights made it hard to remember why you and Jared were together in the first place. All you ever do is fight.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing? Running away? Sure, that’s what you’re best at.” his shouts followed you to the kitchen and soon enough he was too. “Now better tell me where the hell were you all night? Slutting around with your plastic toy?” the kitchen light emphasised his messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes. None of you dealt with your problem well.

“I’ve been working so you can continue to laze your ass around on the fucking couch!” you shouted in response, leaning your hands on the cabinet. You were tired, after once more working overtime. Your asshole boyfriend was the last thing you wanted to deal with that evening. “And before you shove my work in my face one more fucking time, maybe you’d like to explain to me what was Daria doing here yesterday, huh?” his ex-girlfriend had been one of the many reoccurring elements of your fights. And the fact that the neighbours were kind enough to inform you about her visit only added to your rage. “Are you hooking up with that bitch behind my back?” you shouted, venom and hurt marking your every word.

“I wouldn’t have to if you paid more attention to me than to your damn department!”

That was the last straw. You fought over many things, but never, ever did you have to deal with him actually cheating on you. And the way he said it, so carelessly, made your blood boil.

“You dick!” not even realising it, you grabbed a plate and threw it his way. “After all those years…” you turned around to grab something else but then he grabbed your hand. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” you tried to take your hand away, but his grip was firm. So you used your other hand to punch him in the stomach. He let go.

“You’re a liar and a bastard!” you should have walked away. You should have been smarter and leave. But you wanted more, to yell at him and bring him down. You were so blinded by your rage that you didn’t see the slap coming.

It was swift and you barely felt it at first. The realisation came first, itching came later. This would surely leave a mark.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he yelled, taking a step back.

You sent him a death glare before moving past him. After what'd happened you wouldn’t sleep there that night.

the next day

You didn’t even make it to your chair at the department.

“What happened to you?” Connor asked, rushing to your side. It may have been the first time you saw his face so overtaken with concern. His LED was switching between yellow and red as his hand gently cupped your face. You didn’t have your makeup bag with you to cover the mark on your face.

“It’s nothing.” You removed his hands from your face, without looking him in the eye. What'd happened the night before was the last thing you wanted to discuss with Connor. So instead of talking to him you took your seat behind the desk.

“This isn’t nothing, (Y/N)!” you turned your gaze from him, not being able to meet his eyes. “Did he do this to you?” the question lingered in the air, as you breathed deeply. You wished you could act as calm and collected as Connor.

What you didn’t know was that he couldn’t be further from being calm. Because you refused to look at him you didn’t see that his LED was now a solid red. Connor kneeled beside your chair so he wouldn’t look at you from above. His thoughts were racing, trying to put together what could have possibly happened the previous night. He should have known. He should have protected you…

“If that makes any difference, I punched him first...” you said, unsure why you were defending the douchebag. You should be screaming, insulting him. But you weren’t the type to talk shit about people with others. Even if they fucked up this bad.

“It doesn’t make any difference.” his voice soothed your nerves, as his hand reached out once more to cup your good cheek. He didn’t force you to look at him, but you did anyway. “You deserve better. And you shouldn’t allow him to treat you this way.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, your social protocol is pretty generic.” After that your gaze dropped down once more and so did his hand. You knew he was right. And he didn’t even know the whole story... “That’s what everyone would say. But it’s not that easy...” you fiddled with your fingers, before looking up at him once more, with a tired smirk on your face. “What does your social protocol has to say about that?” you mocked, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Nothing.” Connor replied simply. Truth was there were other options that came from his original program. “I, however, have something to say,” and yet he decided to go with something he learned from the only person he’d known that understood how complicated human's emotions could be. “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.”

Your eyes widened with surprise and confusion at his words. Connor never talked like that. But then you understood and chuckled slightly. “Oh…” you took his hand in yours and squeezed it gently. “He’d be proud of you.” you smiled, noticing his LED going from red to yellow.

“I mean it though,” he covered your hand with his and a single tear ran down your cheek at his words. His presence was always reassuring but today… It was so much more than that. You were used to being comforted by him, but never before had he been so open with you. So protective...

“You’re a great friend.” you murmured, your voice slightly cracking due to the tears gathering in your eyes. His hand went up your cheek to wipe that one tear away.

“It’s because I care about you…” all of a sudden he no longer sounded like himself. Even after becoming alive, he always had this machine-like speech. But not anymore; he sounded so sincere as he brought his face closer to yours. “You have no idea how much…”

You felt yourself being drawn to him. Even though the artificial skin was cool, his presence felt so warm… So welcoming…

But…

“I… I can’t.” you whispered, his face being mere inches from yours. You just couldn’t do it. Jared cheated on you, yes. But you had to prove to yourself that you were better than him. That you wouldn’t just fall into another man’s arms while still being in a relationship. “I’m with him, and…”

“It’s okay,” to your surprise, his face was lit up with a smile as he took his hand away from your cheek. “I understand.” he then took your hand in yours and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your palm. You saw he was getting up from his knees.

“Connor, I…” you got up as well. You wanted to apologise; explain yourself. That you weren’t ready yet. That you would need to break up with Jared first…

“You don’t have to say anything,” he looked you in the eyes and smiled more widely. You made sure that his LED returned to steady blue before you could also smile to him. “I really understand.”

Even now you can’t remember who was the first one to envelop the other in a friendly hug. Silence fell over the two of you and once more in your life you were glad that your desk was situated so far into the department that no one witnessed this scene.

And at that moment Connor made a silent promise to Hank. That he would get you out of this mess. That he would protect you, cherish you.

After settling the usual stuff like a small tour and a visit to the headmaster's office, I was left alone in the corridor. However, I didn't get to enjoy the loneliness for long, as someone pulled at my sleeve. I turned around to see a smiling girl with a book in her hand and glasses on her nose.

"Hi, I'm Alana. Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before." she smiled even wider. For some reason I found the smile simply fake. After all, who in their right minds just goes up to a new kid with a smile so wide?

"Do you know every kid around that you're so surprised? It's a big school." I lifted an eyebrow at her, wondering how she might react.

Her smile got thinner at my words, she must have not expected that. "I-I mean, I try to remember everyone, and I really d-didn't see you here before, so..." she began rushing the words.

"Nice," I cut her short. "I rarely remember faces." I didn't really feel like talking to her. She did seem like that kid, who wanted to be friendly towards everyone everytime. "See ya." I hated that sort of people.

"Wait, I didn't catch your name," stubborn, I thought.

"(Y/N)"

"Will I see you at lunch?" she asked, going back to that unsettling smile.

"Dunno, maybe." I quickly turned my back and headed forward. I had no idea which direction I was going for, I just wanted to get rid of that Alana girl.

I hated people who were always so nice to everyone. Mostly because, from my previous experience, it always turns out to be just an act. A facade created to look cool. Not once had I heard that someone was there for me if I wanted to talk, but when I really wanted to talk, they'd always be busy. But I got used to it.

I got used to a lot of things.

I looked down at the schedule I was holding. Of course, trying to get away from Alana I ended up going in the wrong direction. Luckily, the school was planned quite easily, so I had no problem knowing which way to go.

I just needed to go through a small corridor to get to the other building. The corridor was significantly smaller, actually. I could only see one person there. A tall boy with shoulder-length brown hair. I walked past him, but I stopped when I heard someone speak.

"Hey, Connor. I'm loving the new hair length. Very school shooter chic."

I turned around to see that another kid walked in. So the tall one was Connor. School shooter, maybe they were friends. Friends sometimes have weird sense of humour with each other.

All I could see was Connor's back and the other guy's face. He had short, light brown hair and glasses. From his expression I could tell that they weren't friends. He was just being an asshole.

"I was kididng, it was a joke." he said, rolling his eyes. Yet another type of person I couldn't stand. I immediately recalled how people at my old school used to laugh that way at me.

"Yeah," Connor's voice seemed so... Emotionless. "No, it was funny. I'm..."

"Your jokes are even worse than your style." I stepped towards the kid. For a moment standing beside Connor.

"What's your problem?" the kid stepped back. For me it was an encouragement to go further.

"You. You're my fucking problem. You think you're funny? My dead grandmother was funnier at her funeral!" I told him as I kept walking towards him. The kid must have got scared a little, because he raised his hands in defeat.

"Jeeez, calm your tits, dude. " he said and walked off. Only now I noticed there was another guy, with a cast on his left arm. Just when I laid my eyes on him, he followed the jerk out of the corridor.

"Sorry for that. I get a little carried away when I hear douchebags like that." I said as I turned back to Connor. He was pale, and I think his eyes were slightly red. "So... I guess you're Connor, right?" I looked up at him and tried to smile.

He narrowed his eyes at me and took a step back. "Why would you care?" as I looked at him; he somehow resembled of a cornered bunny.

"I don't know," I didn't want to push him. "I don't like jerks. You don't seem like one." I shrugged and looked down at my watch. I was short on time. Well, I could easily blame it on getting lost. "I'm (Y/N)... if you care." I said and moved past him to find my class. First English. Then Art. Then Math. We'll see how it goes.

...

It was weird.

Either I was brilliant at math, or this whole school was so backwards. During the lesson I got a little carried away with my thoughts, and instead of listening to the teacher I just began drawing doodles in my notebook.

"(Y/N) (L/N)..."

"Yes?" I got my head up as I heard my name.

The teacher must have noticed that I didn't pay any attention. "I understand the struggles of being a new student, but that isn't an excuse. You should be paying attention."

You should pay attention, you should do this, you should do that, you should...

"Do you even have an idea what to do with this problem?" the teacher gestured to the blackboard and crossed his arms on his chest.

Luckily, I remembered that problem. My previous teacher was pretty strict, so the entire class was always ahead of the schedule. I told him how to solve it. He seemed pretty impressed.

I didn't pay much attention to it, though. I went back to my doodles, occasionally looking up at the teacher.

But it only got weirder as the doorbell rang.

"H-Hey" a kid walked up to me as I was gathering my stuff from the desk.

"Hey" I replied, looking up at him. I noticed the cast on his left arm. "What's up?" I asked, only now remembering that this kid was also in the corridor with the douche, Connor, and me.

"Well, I-I thought... I mean, I'm not that good at math..." he seemed anxious. He didn't even look at me as he spoke.

"I can help." I said quickly. I felt bad when he was stuttering like that. "When?"

"Oh, really?" his eyes opened widely. "What time... Uh, is Wednesday okay with you? If not, then..."

"Wednesday it is then." I smiled at him, wanting to reassure him. I wondered, was he always like this or was it because of the morning incident? "By the way, I'm (Y/N). And, uhm... I'm sorry I yelled at your friend. But he was being a jerk."

"I'm Evan. And Jared... He's not my friend... I mean, he's a family friend. It's different, apparently." We walked out of the classroom together. "Uhm, do you... Have a minute?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I have, why?"

"I need to go to the computer lab for a second, but... Maybe we could eat lunch together?"

"Sure. I can go with you to the lab."

"Oh, but I-I meant the lunch, not the lab" he began stuttering again.

"I know. I just didn't want to sit there by myself." I lied. I would be totally fine with it. But to be honest, I felt a bit protective over Evan.

"Oh, OK." he only said and rushed to the computer lab. I followed slightly behind, picking at my (f/c) nail polish. His phone started ringing, so I got even more behind, to avoid eavesdropping. He seemed a bit upset. Once we were finally there, he began writing something on the computer and I sat on one of the chairs nearby . I took a moment to look closely at the kid.

As he sat on the chair, probably unaware of me looking at him, he looked pretty normal. Just another teenager with blue striped polo shirt and short honey blonde hair. He was quietly tapping on the keyboard. There was a bit of a contrast between that kid and the one who approached me after math. "What're writing?" I asked, looking down so he wouldn't know I was staring.

"Oh that's just a stupid, it's a paper I have to write for a, uhm, for an assignment..."

"For school?

"Actually, no... Ahm, my therapist... I don't know..."

"If you don't feel comfortable talking about it, it's fine." I told him. And then we fell into an uncomfortable silence, that was broken only by the sound of the printer from the other side of the room. I got up and headed towards the door. Evan didn't get up, though. He just sat there. I stopped, one foot in the lab, one already outside

"So." I turned around when I heard a familiar voice. "What happened to your arm?" Connor stood in front of Evan, nervously hiding his hand in his pocket. In his other hand he held a paper. Was he there all along?

Evan looked a little startled. "Oh, I uhm, I fell out of a tree actually."

"You fell out of a tree?" I saw how Connor smiled before letting out a chuckle. "That is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Oh my God... " to my surprise, Evan also began to smile. He seemed a bit less scared. That was good. Connor shook his hand before moving closer to Evan.

"I know.." Evan chuckled as well, getting up from his chair.

"No one's signed your cast."

Evan's smile got thinner at the words. "No, I know." only now I noticed that the cast was indeed empty.

"I'll sign it. " I smiled at Connor's words. It was nice of him. I moved towards them, scanning through my bag.

"Me too. " I said before Evan could get any weak protest out of his mouth and handed Connor a sharpie. He looked at me in disbelief.

"I thought you left." Connor narrowed his eyes at me. He raised his hand to take the sharpie, but hesitated.

"Well, I didn't. " I smiled at him and tilted my head a little.

"You're like, a fucking phantom girl. " he shook his head and took the sharpie. Also, I think I may have seen a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. He signed Evan's cast first, then I took out another sharpie to do the same, but with smaller letters, slightly above the huge CONNOR.

"So, now we can all pretend we have friends, right?" Connor said, with this tired smile growing on his lips.

"Why pretend?" I asked, looking at the two boys in front of me. When I first saw Evan, I thought he was Jared's friend. Another douche. But he was just an anxious boy, in need of a friend. Just like me. And Connor...

Connor looked at me for a while. I had no idea why. Then he offered me a slight smile as he looked down. "Maybe... Uhm, I think it's yours? I... I heard you talking about the assignment, so I grabbed it for you." he awkwardly held the paper for Evan to get.

"Oh, uhm... Thanks..." Evan reached out and took the paper from Connor. His cheeks were blushing. Was he ashamed that Connor heard us?

"I hope it's not a habit of yours to eavesdrop on people." I joked and put the sharpie in my bag. I looked back up with a smile.

But Connor wasn't smiling. His face went pale, even more than before and I could see how his hands were shaking a little. "You think I wanted to hear that?" I think his breathing got a bit heavier. "What, you think I'm this kind of freak that goes around and spies on everyone?" his voice raised and I stepped back, slightly taken aback. "Is that what you think?!"

"N-No..." I stuttered as I saw him raging. It was just a joke, I didn't mean to hurt him in any way.

"Fuck you!" he yelled, throwing the sharpie my way and storming off. I didn't even have time to react, so the sharpie just bounced off my head. I simply stood there, bewildered. Evan looked at me and then at the door. He started picking at the hem of his shirt nervously.

"Is he always like this?" I asked, before finally realising something. I looked down at my watch. "God, my class starts now. " I didn't even notice the time passing as we sat in the lab. I took out an empty paper out of the printer and scribbled my name and phone number. "If you need anything, just call or text me. Bye, Evan!" I waved before running out of the lab. I checked the schedule. French. Just around the corner. Perfect.

But as I glanced to the window, I noticed a tall figure running towards the park. A familiar figure, with long hair. I wondered if I should go follow him...

No.

He clearly wanted to be alone.

And we weren't friends. Not really. I still didn't understand why he stormed off like that. Was it really because of what I said?

No, I wasn't rude. I was just trying to be friendly and make a joke. What was his problem?

Maybe there was something I didn't know...

"Hey Zoe, isn't that your brother running off to the park?" I heard someone say. I turned around to see who it was. A guy in some band's shirt and short black hair was talking to a brown haired girl. When it came to style, she couldn't be more different than Connor. But when I looked at her face I could find a few similarities.

Leave it (Y/N). It's not your problem. He's not even your friend. Why would you care?

Maybe because someone has to...

I came up to the girl. "Are you, uhm..." that was the second time today that I randomly walked up to someone just because I heard something that wasn't even meant for me. Why am I doing this? You don't even know him. "I'm sorry, this must seem weird as hell but... Are you Connor's sister?" I asked, biting on my lower lip. Great job (Y/N), now she probably thinks you're crazy...

I watched the expressions on Zoe's face change from confusion, to irritation, to concern. "Did he do something?" she asked quietly, so only I could hear. The boy took a few steps back to give us some privacy, but I noticed how he looked at me. As if I said something strange. "He's a freak, so if he'd done anything..."

"No, he didn't. I was just wondering... Could you send him a message from me?"

She furrowed her brow at me, but eventually nodded. "What is it?"

"Just... Tell him that I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Please, just text him..."

"... Okay."

CONNOR

The world is just a mess. A fucking mistake. And why should I be a part of this misery?

I sat in the park near the school. It was quiet here, at least for now. Mostly because all the annoying jerks were still at school. It was better this way. No one to see me break down.

The world's a fucking mess. The school's a fucking mess. I'm a fucking mess.

Why did I storm off  like that? The girl was actually pretty nice. It could be just a joke. Was it really? She didn't look like a typical bully. They never look like this. She said we could really be friends...

She was just trying to mock you, idiot.

She's new. She doesn't know me, probably never even heard of me. Which is for the best, actually.

Please, who the fuck would want you as a friend? You're a freak. You're the freak.

She defended me.

She pitied you.

I dug my fingers in my head, trying to get the voices to go away. I was tired of it all, why can't it just go away?

It could go away.

It will go away...

This morning I took a bottle of pills from the bathroom. It could be the end of this. End of this misery. I mean, no one would care, right?

*BEEP*

For fuck's sake.

I had tears in my eyes as I looked at the phone. It was lying on the ground next to my leg. I wanted to ignore it. There was Zoe's name after all. I just wanted to throw the phone away.

But then I saw the message. It was short, but it hit me like a ton of bricks.

From: ZOE (Y/N) says she's sorry.

I held the phone in my hand. It was shaking. I was shaking. Why was I shaking?

It's been so long since anyone apologised to me. Sincerely...

I don't really know why, but instead of throwing my phone, like I previously planned, I ended up throwing the bottle of pills away...

A/N