Blurry Minded, Heavy Hearted - A Detroit : Become Human Fanfiction

Chapter 8

TW - Self harm

Connor POV -

I wake up again, seeing Hank is gone. I wish he stayed today but I do know that he has his own priorities. I feel like I have no energy when my battery is clearly charged over it's normal percentage. It's all so confusing. Yesterday I felt like what seems like every emotion possible, but now all I feel is tired and emotionless, almost like a machine again.

Knowing I need to get up, I force myself up, pushing Sumo off of me. He whines and paws at my foot trying to keep me to sit down. It pains me to see Sumo so worried, and I just want to go back to normal so he feels better. When I get up and walk around the house, Sumo continues to follow me. I notice that I'm still wearing the clothes from last night, sticking to my skin due to them still being wet with snow.

I walk into Hanks room to change into some dry clothes, a pair of grey sweatpants and a random sweater of Hanks from DPD. I look at the mirror. It feels all wrong. I shouldn't wear his clothes, I'm not his son, or his family. Hell, not even his friend. Everything feels wrong right now. My hair curlier than usual due to the snow, my LED now constantly yellow or red, my expression no longer calm and collected, the fact that only a few hours ago I way crying, is all wrong. I'm not human; what happened to my confidence, my precision?

Tears start to drip down my face again. Why? Why am I crying? I wish I didn't deviate. It would be easier to be a machine, I wouldn't experience any of this at all. I feel frustrated. Frustrated at my emotions, my crying, my weakness. I grip Hanks dresser, feeling an overwhelming sense of anger. Why did I deviate? Why can't I control myself? Why the hell is Amanda back?!

(TW incoming)

Out of no where, I feel myself scream and punch the mirror, glass falling everywhere and piercing into my fist. Blue blood drips into the carpet and onto Hanks clothes. The blood dripping and the stinging of my fist gives me a sense of calm and I feel a yearning for more. Why does it feel so good? 'This isn't healthy' I tell myself, but I can't help but feel so calmed at the blood and sting.

Being addicted to the feeling, I punch Hanks desk more and more. Feeling the sting of cutting my skin and watching the blue blood drip down the dresser I feel a smile lift onto my lips and I feel the best I have in the last 2 days. The feeling is almost addicting. Realizing I could do more, I grab one of the pieces of glass that broke from the mirror and look at the sharp edge. I lift the sleeve of the sweater and bring the piece of glass down, piercing it into my skin. Not expecting a heavier pain, I bite my lip to hold in a whine. I continue to pierce a few more lines into my skin and the calm feelings comes back. The steady stream of blue blood drips onto the sweater, leaving a few more stains.

Finally feeling satisfied, I roll my sleeves down over the newly placed wounds and grab the broom, sweeping the broken glass into the trash. I worry what to tell Hank about the dent in his dresser and the mirror but decide I could lie about my biocomponents again, he'll probably be drunk when he gets home anyway.

When I'm finished sweeping up the glass I look into the broken mirror and finally found a word for how I've been feeling lately; broken. Reality hits me and I realize I just broke some of Hanks furniture. Guilt sinks into my mind and I decide to look up how much it costs to get a new dresser and mirror. I place down the amount of money on the dresser so Hank can get a new one.

"Stupid, stupid, weak, Connor. You're letting your emotions get the better of you again."

No, no I thought the thoughts would stop... I thought Amanda would stop. I thought she was gone, why is she back?

"Soon, Connor. Very soon."

Soon what?!

I never get an answer, which only pisses me off. I feel like punching more stuff but I don't want to annoy Hank by breaking more of his furniture, and either way I don't have much more money for him to buy new furniture.

I need something to 'take the edge off' as Hank would say. I don't want to hurt myself more cause that means breaking more furniture, and now that the damage is done I realize how stupid it was to do it anyway. I look around for something to calm myself down and I see a full bottle of whiskey sitting on Hanks kitchen table.

Can I even digest alcohol? What about get drunk? Although the answer was probably no the chance of release from these emotions is too intriguing to pass up. I walk over to the kitchen, standing in front of the alcohol. Jack Daniels once again, Hank has a taste. Slowly opening the bottle I feel a small jump of adrenaline like a kid doing something they shouldn't do. Once its open I take a small sip from the bottle to make sure I can handle the liquid moving down to my throat. After a few moments of nothing happening I conclude that it's okay to drink the strange liquid.

I chug down a few more big gulps, drinking almost half the bottle. By now I feel a weird new emotion, like I'm floating. Everything around me feels lighter and occasionally I see two Sumos panting in front of me. 'This is what feeling drunk' is I think to myself. No wonder Hank likes it so much.

I stumble over to the couch, almost tripping on my own feet. Once I'm sitting Sumo craws up next to me, licking my face over and over again, causing me to giggle at the sloppy kisses. I sit there, feeling a real sense of peace for the first time in the last 2 days. I look at the time. It's either 5PM or 8PM, I can't tell because my vision is so altered from alcohol. Either way, time has gone by fast and now all I can do is relax.

I lay my head back and let myself think. Maybe I can get used to this. After a while though, the bliss stops and I only feel what I can only gather is the feeling of nauseous. I try not to focus on the awful feeling but now my thoughts are only getting louder and Amanda is the only thought in my mind.

"Stupid idea, Connor. You know how much Hank loves his whiskey. He'll beat you for drinking it."

The thought of Hank hitting me causes me to visibly shake and the nauseous feeling only grows.

"You're awful, Connor. Day my day you make Hank hate you more and more."

I curl up into myself, hugging my knees and feeling the tears start to flow from my eyes. This was a big mistake. Hurting myself and the alcohol all together was a dumb idea. Hank is going to freaks out and want me to disappear.

I don't know what to do as I wait for Hank to come home, so I just cry and cry and cry until I'm sober and until I can focus on the real world again.

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I know that Connor getting drunk is a little far fetched but I remember Markus being able to drink something in the game once he reached Jericho, so I thought maybe alcohol could effect Connor!

Things are getting really bad for Connor. So much so he's desperate for any source of relief, hence the alcohol and self harm.