The Partners (Connor x Reader)

Chapter 5: Y/N

"A new case just came in. Find L/N and investigate it."

* * *

You eased back into your armchair, attempting to get comfortable while also balancing a cup of hot coffee in one of your hands. You knew it was a bad habit of yours. One glance at the time would tell you that it was way too late to be drinking that much caffeine- but you couldn't help yourself. As you sat in your living room, you could hear the chirping of crickets every now and then from an ajar window. Yes, it was November. But your apartment, as cheap as it was, lacked a working A/C- you seemed to be hot 24/7 despite the chilly weather outside. A gentle breeze blew past you from outside, causing you to shiver in your chair as you hugged your robe closer to your body for warmth.

Your TV was on; your favorite show was playing but you weren't paying attention to it. You just liked having the TV on for background noise. You practically lived on your own- and that was hard. It was scary- even- at times. The TV filled in that awkward, eerie silence.

Ring. Ring.

The familiar sound of a brass bell rang throughout your apartment. You sighed aloud, arising from your chair- despite having just sat down- to see what she wanted.

Again, you practically lived on your own. Practically.

Practically only because your mother lived with you, but with a destroyed mental state. She got into a pretty bad car accident when you were a teen, resulting in some severe brain damage. There was nothing left of your mother, very few traces of the woman she once was. Most days, she sat in bed or was positioned in front of a TV. When you were in the room with her, there was no acknowledgement that you were present. She would look past anyone attempting to speak with her, never responding to any words thrown her way. She couldn't eat or walk on her own, the handheld bell was her only indicator that she wanted something.

Figuring out what your mother wanted was always a tricky game. Sometimes it was food, sometimes she wanted to move to the couch or bed, and other times it could be bathroom related. Her sense of speech seemed to totally go out the window along with her mental state. There was only one word she could speak, one single cohesive word that made your heart sink every single time it left her lips.

"F/N."

Your father's name.

Your mother's accident was tremendously hard on him. He couldn't bear to look at her anymore, and that wasn't you just guessing. That's what he told you. So when he started staying later than normal at work, you knew it wasn't because of overtime.

It wasn't long before your father became hooked on red ice. You suppose your father saw red ice as a get away. An escape from his hellish reality. It worked for awhile. Until the drug test. One single drug test, required by his workplace.

Next thing you knew, your father was jobless. Living off of your mother's insurance and the $14 dollars an hour you made at your little part time job. It was a miserable life, but didn't last very long.

He left Ann Arbor for Detroit, insisting he was leaving in order to find a new job. A place he could get clean and start sending money to you and your mother. Or maybe he expected to ask your uncle for money- like that would ever happen.

Regardless, that was the last you ever heard from your father. He never returned to the house. Never called or texted you again. Never showed up to your high school or college graduations. Never came to support you during your police training. But he did keep his promise about one thing. Each month, you received a letter addressed to your mother. Inside, two-thousand dollars cash. Every month.