Survivor - Connor x OC

Dark Side

"What have I done to offend you now?" She stepped forward as the barista called her order number and headed for the door with breakfast in hand. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail for the day, unable to tame it after falling asleep onto the updo that Anton had fixed the day before, and had refused to take off her dark sunglasses since she'd walked outside to the sunshine stabbing directly into her brain.

"Do you really need to ask? The pictures are all over the internet." Maybe if it didn't feel like her brain was trying to squeeze out of her skull from the inside, the answer would have been obvious. Right now, she wasn't in the mood for Alex's usual tête-à-tête. He must have been pretty pissed at her, too, because he didn't even draw it out like he normally would. "Why did you dance with Anthony Jacobsen last night?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" She tried to fight down the panic rising in her throat and hoped that if she played it off, Alex would let it go. Or it might have just been stomach bile; she had been nauseous all morning. She was hoping the muffins would help to absorb the toxic bile and alcohol cocktail sloshing around inside of her.

"I don't even know what to say to that." Taylor sipped the coffee in her hand as she rounded the corner and finally caught sight of the station just ahead. "You know, I knew it was a mistake, sending you out there by yourself."

"What does that mean?" Her voice raised an octave, then she winced as her head pounded in protest. "Alex, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Really? So you weren't also threatened by a deviant at a crime scene?" Taylor froze, rather inconveniently as she was walking into the building. The person walking behind her cleared their throat loudly after almost colliding with her and she sheepishly stepped to the side to let them pass.

"Who told you that?" She asked softly, retreating to the corner of the lobby and trying to avoid notice.

"Then it is true?" She could hear him taking in a deep breath on his end of the line. "Dr. Williams said you won't return her calls either. Jesus, Taylor. I really am going to have to fly out there."

"Would you stop it with that?" Taylor snapped, turning her back on the lobby to face the window so no one could see her talking and try to eavesdrop. "I'm tired of the threat, Alex. You know, I saw Jake last night and even he was throwing it in my face. You haven't let me out of your sight since I was thirteen! You aren't my dad!"

The whole world tilted. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest and wouldn't let go. She held her breath, wishing she could take it back. The silence on the line was deafening, consuming, she couldn't even hear the people in the lobby behind her as she waited for him to respond.

"I'm just worried about you, Taylor." His voice was quiet. She wished he had screamed back at her, said something just as hurtful. "I may have an infant daughter and a wife now, but you are my family. You know where to find me."

The line went dead. Taylor thought she could be shattering, breaking apart from the inside. She stood there for who knows how long, trembling, imploding, clutching her breakfast and staring out into the Detroit street.

The phone rang, breaking her stupor. She answered immediately, praying it was Alex and she could fix it. Apologize. "Hello?"

"Miss Kolbeck?" There was a hesitation on the line. It wasn't Alex. She recognized the voice immediately. "Taylor. Good Morning. I was calling to see when you would be into the precinct this morning. I went to retrieve my uniform, but they said they had delivered it to you."

"Connor, how did you get this number?" Taylor couldn't juggle the items in her hands to pull out her phone and see what number he was calling from. One of those items was, in fact, Connor's clean uniform, enclosed in a garment bag.