CHAPTER 17 | COLLISION

DECEMBER 2, 2038

11:16PM

Barbara was halfway asleep when she heard the knock at her door.

It was faint at first. Her brain, so desperate for any type of social interaction, could have imagined it. But then it came again, with much more confidence.

Every hair on the back of her neck stood up, a volt of electricity running down her spine that shocked her into a state of alert. She wasn't expecting any visitors. The abandoned streets of Detroit were eerie, and though she'd refute the idea if asked, she was scared.

Her mind had been running rampant with scenarios of the horrible things that could happen while she was alone, which only seemed to intensify at night. Sleep escaped her, the only time she found rest was in the wee hours of the morning, just as dawn broke and the sunlight began to trickle through the cracks of her blinds.

Her front door didn't have a peephole, which wasn't a big deal when she'd first signed her lease, but she had come to lament it over the years, and especially now.

It'd be better if she stayed quiet, pretended she wasn't there.

"Barbara? It's Connor," the voice on the other side of the door was muffled, but familiar.

The knot of fear in her stomach released and changed to something else entirely. Relief. Barbara ran her fingers through her tangled hair, tucking it behind her ears, and felt a momentary bout of self-consciousness that surprised her. She wasn't in a state for visitors, but it'd be rude to keep him waiting.

Connor. That was a whole other can of worms. She opened the door.

"Hey," she said, taking in his appearance. "Sorry, I wasn't sure who you were at first," she swallowed hard, realizing that she sounded surprisingly out of breath.

Connor tilted his head and flickered his eyes over her briefly. She probably wouldn't have noticed it had she not grown so used to his mannerisms, but it was an examination of sorts. It'd probably be better she didn't find out exactly what he'd just concluded.

He looked fine, she wasn't sure what else to expect, save for the LED at the side of his temple which was a constantly gold spinning disk. Although she knew he couldn't get cold, he still looked a little out of place in just his tie and dress shirt, snowflakes melting in his hair and drops of water scattered across his cheeks like the smattering of freckles he already had. Barbara chided herself for making such astute observations.

But besides that, there was something a bit manic in his eyes, less distant than they'd been before. Or maybe it was all in her head.

"If I'm intruding, I can leave," he gave her a weak smile. "I understand it's late, and-"

"Please, come in," she murmured, cutting him off. He walked past her wordlessly. It was a little out of character for him to not refute. He stood, looking out of place in her living room as she followed after him.

Sheepishly, she turned down the music from her record player that was playing and turned off the TV. "Sorry," she murmured. "It's a little messy, I wasn't expecting anyone."

"I've disturbed you," his eyes flitted around the room as he took in the records lying out, the cold case files scattered across her kitchen table. "I can leave if-"

"Connor, it's fine, please," she assured him. "Can I get you anything?"

He shook his head no. Obviously. That was a stupid question.

When he continued to stand wordlessly, like he wasn't sure how to move forward, she finally spoke up again. "You can sit down, is everything okay?"

Connor stared at her for a moment, his eyes desperately searching hers for something, though she couldn't be sure what for. "Come sit," she gestured to her couch. "Please."

He did, but rigidly. Afraid to prompt him too extensively, she waited a beat, and was thankful when he finally spoke up. "I meant to call you on my way here, it slipped my mind."

"It's okay," Barbara said.

He stared at the floor, and Barbara gave him the time he needed, suddenly becoming aware of her current state. Since she wasn't exactly expecting guests, she was clad in her pajamas, green flannel shorts and a mismatched sweatshirt emblazoned with the logo of a cafe that used to be down the street from where she lived. She couldn't remember the last time she'd brushed her hair, and she hadn't bothered to put in contacts, so safe to say she was briefly embarrassed about the fact that she probably looked like a mess. Grabbing the crumpled blanket next to her, she settled it over her exposed legs.

"Hank and I got into an argument," Connor finally said. "And I left."

"What happened?" Barbara frowned.

"He was drinking," Connor said. "And I must have irritated him when I suggested he seek professional help for his...issue."

"Oh," she said. That's it? She'd heard Hank say some pretty horrible things to Connor when they first began working together, so this reaction came as a surprise. Still, she offered some comfort. "I doubt he'll stay mad, long, Connor. That's quite a sensitive topic for him, he might have just been a little hurt."

Contrary to his words, it had appeared Hank's drinking had been getting better the last few weeks. It was possible a hard day at word could have triggered the behavior again, she doubted it'd be a perfect uphill climb. Barbara wasn't sure whether to press him about it. Instead, she took the time to examine Connor more closely now that he was still, the stray wisp of hair falling onto his forehead.

He looked lost, dejected. Since they'd met, rarely were his emotions so plainly featured across his visage. He'd become deviant, and everything had changed.

"That's not the only reason why I am here," he confessed, looking across the room.

"What's going on?" Barbara asked hesitantly.

"Markus reached out to me..." Connor said. "He wants me to join the council at Jericho."

Barbara blinked, and sniffed. Sitting on the side opposite of his LED, she felt she couldn't quite fully read him, and wasn't sure how to respond.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked. "I mean, doesn't that say a lot about what Markus thinks of you?" tilting her head, she studied him, and was surprised when he finally gave in and spared her a quick glance.

"It's ridiculous," Connor said, tone sharp, almost angry, but not quite. "As if I would know how to handle such responsibility."

Barbara was slightly sure now where this was going, opening up a door to something that was greater than she was capable of handling. At least she would try. "Why couldn't you?"

His expression was pained. "I've done so many horrible things, and I..." he trailed off, put his head in his hands. She heard him take in a deep, artificial breath. "They don't deserve that. How am I to be respected amongst my own people? My whole purpose was to destroy them. I've taken lives, I've lied, I let CyberLife use me...I was complicit."

His eyes were obscured by his hands, but his jaw clenched and unclenched, clean lines and sharp edges.

"Connor," she murmured, stopping him before he tore himself apart in front of her.

Slowly, he lifted his head from his hands and looked at her reluctantly. His eyes were shining, and it took her a moment to realize what was happening.

"Oh," Barbara said softly. "Don't cry."

He buried his head in his hands again, and she couldn't find the right words for the moment. Closing the distance between them, her hand rose to rest between his shoulders.

"First of all, none of that is true," she began quietly. "Maybe you feel that way, but Markus surely doesn't, and neither do I," Barbara said softly.

Connor didn't answer, and although she wasn't one to fill the silence with conversation, she continued. "So this is what's been bothering you? Hank and I have been so worried."

Turning his head to face her, Connor's eyes still glistened. "I don't know where to start."

Barbara was upset that she hadn't acted sooner when she saw how the guilt was eating him alive. Her stomach dropped just thinking about it.

"You were manipulated, Connor," Barbara said. "Hell, we all were. But what matters is what you can do now. You can't change what's already happened."

Connor's eyes turned back towards the floor, but Barbara was surprised when she felt a weight in her lap, his hand squeezing hers. She stretched her arm across his back and leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now," she murmured. "Nobody expects that."

There was a bout of silence, and he was perfectly still the entire time, but she could only imagine what was running through his mind. Brushing her thumb over the back of his hand, she took in careful breaths until he spoke again.

"Does everything always feel like this?" his head turned towards her.

Barbara felt her lips twitch into a smile, slight and sad. "Well everybody's different, but not always, I would hope."

"It's awful," he said, but was relieved when the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "How do you go on?"

Barbara wasn't sure how to answer that question. She herself had always carried a deep ache inside, the lack of a support system growing up had made her cynical, even angry, for a long time. She'd always wanted to scream at the world, blame it for her problems. It took her awhile to realize she was just sad. "Things always get better with time."

Connor nodded, and Barbara finally released him, resting back against the couch cushions and crossing her legs. "What do I do about Hank?"

Barbara shrugged. "He'll get over it, he just needs space. I mean, you're not the only person who has ever confronted him about his drinking."

Connor's expression shifted back to one of concern, and she decided to change the subject.

"If you'd like, you can stay here tonight," Barbara offered, albeit a little hesitantly. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of her feelings for him. It occurred to her that was a little selfish, since, to her knowledge, he didn't share any feelings for her anyways.

"Are you sure?" Connor asked.

"Of course," she lied. "I was probably going to pull an all-nighter anyways."

Connor frowned. "I wouldn't advise that, lack of sleep can have serious long-term effects on your health - diabetes, heart disease-"

Barbara rolled her eyes and held up her hand. "Please, it's one night. Plus, I read a study once that said pulling all-nighters can be good in moderation."

Connor's LED cycled yellow for a half-turn. "The paper you're referring to has been retracted. You should know, not all published research is accurate."

"You're a lot of fun, I should have you over more often," Barbara flatly.

"And you're incorrigible," he quipped back.

"I'll take it as a compliment," She was relieved to see his shoulders had relaxed slightly and he wasn't as tense. Of course, she was sure his wounds weren't completely healed. Seeing as she wasn't exactly a case study for perfect mental health, she at least hoped he could find peace elsewhere. And she hoped, for his sake, that he would join Markus and the others at Jericho.

Connor appeared to examine her apartment, her expansive vinyl collection that was about 20 years in the making, the case files scattered on the floor. "Is this what you've been working on?" he asked her, kneeling down to examine them. She couldn't hide the smirk on her lips as he seemed to immediately jump into action, lifting a paper, eyes scanning it with intense focus.

"Yep," she said. "Cold case files. I took them from the office before I left….probably not the best ethical decision but it gives me something to do. You'd be more likely to solve them than me."

To her surprise, he frowned and set the paper down, appearing perturbed. "Don't say that, you're so self-deprecating," he observed. "They went cold for a reason. Hundreds of eyes have probably looked over this evidence."

Barbara didn't expect the remark, which vexed her mostly because of its accuracy. Maybe she needed to be less open. It wasn't his intent to offend, so she brushed it aside.

She moved forward so she was sitting next to him again, her eyes trying to follow his as he examined a few more photos and pieces of paper, until she found them wandering to gaze at his profile, her head coming to rest on her chin. It was unintentional, improper, even, but she couldn't stop herself.

"What are you looking at?" he asked seconds before he turned his head to look at her. He was closer than she'd expected, but for some reason, she didn't draw back to put the appropriate space between them.

It was a cliche, but she didn't remember the details of how it happened. What closed the gap between them or who leaned in first. And it didn't come as much of a surprise either, like she thought somehow it would've. It started off gentle, sweet, their lips met with a moment of clumsiness that quickly corrected itself.

But Connor's hand rose to cup her chin, hers to the back of his neck, and it certainly didn't feel like it was his first kiss. Maybe it wasn't, but she didn't really care to think about that in the moment. He was so good at it, It was almost unfair. In mere seconds he had her breathless, the intensity and passion behind every movement of his mouth was sweet torture. He made her feel wanted, his thumb on her cheek, pads of his fingers resting on her neck.

She tilted her head back slightly, angling so she could deepen the kiss, she felt a desire within her stir as his opposite hand settled on her waist and pulled her closer. Powerless against her own desire, she hooked her opposite arm around his neck to regain her balance before wrapping a leg around his hips and settling into his lap.

He seemed pleased by this action, pulling her in with his abundance of strength, calibrated so carefully as to not injure her, until she was pressed fully against him. And he felt good. Warm, not quite as warm as a human, but pleasantly so, inviting. He was so solid, strong....real beneath her. When his tongue traced her lower lip and his hand on her waist shifted downward, she let out an unexpected moan of content. How was he so good at this?

At some point, after she'd tangled her fingers in his hair and he'd shifted both hands to settle in the curve of her waist, she was hit with a brief but solid wall of clarity.This...this was wrong. She wasn't sure why it had taken this long to realize that.

She pulled backwards slightly. Connor stared back at her in surprise. Maybe she was seeing things but his eyes seemed darker, something burning within him, artificial color on his cheeks. It was all she could do not to lean back in and kiss him again but she'd already broken out of the fog.

"I don't know about this," she murmured, and immediately removed herself from the comfort of his embrace. "I think this is a bad idea."

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked her, voice huskier than usual. He sounded wonderfully out of breath, stirred by what they'd just shared. But the concern etched in his features, looking slightly like a lost puppy with his big brown eyes, snapped her out of her reverie.

"No," she shook her head, and scooted away from him, the added distance giving her the clarity she felt she needed. Quite the opposite. Her eyes flickered away.

"Then what's the matter?"

"I don't know," she murmured, looking everywhere but his eyes, which she felt would somehow see right through her if she awarded him any contact.

"Is it because I am an an-"

"No," she cut him off quickly and shook her head, a piece of hair falling in her eyes. She knew exactly where Connor was going. "It's nothing to do with that. It's just..." she began, voice low. "Maybe not the best idea right now. "

Connor appeared to consider this a moment, but his eyes never left her face, studying her intently. "I don't understand. I know how I feel about you."

"Listen you might think that," Finally, she met his eyes. "But I don't know if I'm a person you want to get mixed up with like this."

"Are you afraid?" he asked.

To answer concisely, yes. And she had several reasons to be, but none of them really had to do with what he was. What he was experiencing, and what she was would explain it a little better. It'd been a long time since she'd been in any sort of romantic entanglements, and this probably went beyond what she was capable of handling. Which wasn't to say she didn't feel the same. But her logical mind would always prevail, if she knew anything about herself. She averted her eyes again. "I mean, this isn't something I expected."

"I understand," he said, looking slightly disappointed, but he didn't press any further. "I apologize if I've crossed any boundaries."

"No, you didn't," she stole a glance at him, and he gave her a gentle smile. And he deserved a much more honest explanation than what she'd given him, but until she could put into words what she was feeling, this was enough.

Connor cleared his throat, an unnecessary action that made him all the more genuine, his LED spinning yellow briefly, before he turned back to look at the case files like nothing had happened at all. If this was anyone else, she'd probably have left, but there was nowhere for her to go, and the room lacked the tension she'd been expecting.

And, now especially, she wasn't sure of anything at all.


Hey I suck for not updating this for so long! The seasonal affective disorder hit harder than usual this winter, and what made it worse was depriving myself of doing the one thing I like - creating! Imagine that.

Enough about me, but I hope this was timed out okay. I thought these two deserved something! As much as I love mutual pining, I couldn't continue to drag it out any longer. Please let me know what you think, I think it was a long time coming!

As always, come talk to me on tumblr ( from-the-clouds), or check out the playlist I made for this series (on Youtube). I'll be updating it in the coming weeks!