Requested by FlightoftheStorm777 on FFnet: If you're looking for prompts, maybe Connor reacting to the reader getting critically injured? (I love angst lol).

Requested by tumblr anon: can I pretty please request a oneshot where reader is shot while on a case with Connor and there's angst but please happy ending PLEASE no death thank you i love you x

Requested by Gaara'slilsis on FFnet: I would like to see a chapter of Connor reacting to the reader getting injured while on a case. (Anything from an injury as dramatic as getting hurt during a chase, or as mundane as falling while trying to examine something at a crime scene in a precarious place)

I LOVE HOW WIDELY REQUESTED THIS PROMPT WAS! Hope you all enjoy! :D

Puncture

Hank would never have let this happen.

When you'd arrived at the precinct that morning, Connor had informed you that the suspect in your case - Derek Madsen, male, age 41 - had been reportedly spotted downtown and that the both of you were to chase him out of his hiding place, arrest the man, and bring him back to the station to coerce a confession out of him.

He'd also notified you that Lieutenant Anderson was ill - like, can't stand up straight, vomiting his guts out, that kind of ill, except Connor had been more eloquent with his wording - so naturally, you'd assumed the two of you were working this case alone today.

You'd assumed wrong.

Captain Fowler had broken the news to you that Detective Reed would accompany you to apprehend the suspect on the basis that backup may be required. You were used to having two partners when working cases - Connor and Hank - but that didn't mean you'd rather have Gavin than nobody. When you voiced this opinion, Fowler had not been so happy to hear it.

So, you and Connor were stuck with Reed.

The crude detective hadn't been entirely happy about the developments either, so there was an unspoken truce to at least be tolerable of each other and remain amenable, but when Reed took every chance he got to subtly insult the android you were working with, it took all of your willpower not to whack the son of a bitch over the head.

Connor clearly had better self-control than you, managing to brush off Reed's pathetic remarks like they were thinly settling dust - far too focused on the task at hand.

When the three of you reached the supposed hideout of your suspect, Gavin had stormed into the establishment, gun raised, shouting warnings - 'Detroit police, come out with your hands up!' - rather foolishly giving the criminal the chance to escape out the backend of the building despite Connor's suggestion of a far better plan to enter quietly so as not to alert the offender.

The chase had begun, and it had drawn the three of you to an old, nearby car-park structure - a place of seemingly abandoned vehicles. The edifice had clearly not been used except as a dump of scrap metal, and you were sickened to see bygone bodies of long-deactivated androids, all in various states of disrepair, strewn about the place.

You remained vigilant; Connor had suggested the three of you split up in order to cover more ground, and Gavin had been all too happy to comply - at least they could agree on one thing, even if it was because of Reed's absurd inability to remain amicable around the two of you - whereas you had been a tad more reluctant. The environment was disconcerting, the sight of irrecoverable android corpses unsettled you, and you didn't want to part with Connor.

You did, though, because you had a job to do.

Ducking down behind a rusted, blue pickup truck, you surveyed the area carefully, keeping track of Connor's whereabouts and general position in the back of your mind; you moved with quiet steps, keeping your eyes off of the plastic cadavers littering the ground, and kept your ears peeled, listening for anything that you couldn't accurately attribute to Gavin or Connor proceeding around the sheltered parking lot.

Across the way, through the small gap between two cars dumped closely together, you saw Gavin knelt by an aged russet van - his gaze was narrowed and he appeared to be listening for movement, his gun clutched at the ready in his hands - you hoped he wouldn't shoot the suspect dead before you could obtain a confession from him.

You crept around the back of a small car, sidling the length of it to peer over the hood; you saw Connor across the room to your right, facing away from you with his gaze directed elsewhere, and resumed your perusal from your current position. When you turned your head, an inaudible gasp escaped you - you saw the criminal crouched behind another vehicle, a gun in his hand, aiming purposefully past you, and you knew you had seconds to react.

Gavin was oblivious on the other side of the room, so you knew the gun was pointed at Connor, and you knew for a fact that the android's head was turned, unaware of the danger that he was being targeted.

You raised your gun in the same three seconds it took you to put yourself between the suspect's sights and your closest friend, a wild cry leaving your mouth - "No, Connor!" - but you weren't fast enough to shoot first.

Hank wouldn't have let this happen - he would have been more prudent, not faffing about like Gavin fucking Reed. He would've concurred with Connor's plan to take the criminal off-guard and cornered him in his hideout before the trigger of any gun could've been pulled.

The bullet that propelled just a little too late from your gun ricocheted lamely off the metal body of the car the suspect was huddled behind, embedding itself into another piece of scrap nearby, and you felt angry, disappointed that you'd missed, but you only felt it for a second.

For just a couple of drawn out moments, you thought the suspect's focus had been off, that he had failed to hit his target, but when you looked down, you saw the small nick in your shirt and the steady ooze of red spreading outward, coating the material with the thick liquid, and only then did you feel the searing pain tear through you.

Your gun slipped from your hand; you heard a shout from behind you, followed by the sight of the suspect sprinting across the room for the exit with Gavin chasing after him, and your legs gave out beneath you, suddenly too numb to hold you up. Time appeared to slow down exponentially as you fell back and your initial instinct was to twist round to catch yourself before the back of your head could meet the hard cement ground, but your body refused to obey.

Only, you didn't hit the ground.

Connor was there - Connor had caught you, laid you down gently before he rushed to remove his tie. His LED, bright red in colour, flashed alarmingly, and his lips were moving; he was speaking, but you didn't catch everything he said - "...detective Connor with the DPD, I need an ambulance…" - he was calling the emergency services. Good thinking. His voice was calm and clear, but his eyes were frantic.

You blinked slowly, a stark opposition to the speed of your racing thoughts, so many stray notions flooding through your head all at once - 'getting shot really hurts' - 'where the hell did Gavin go?' - 'why did I fucking miss?' - 'I wish Hank was here' - 'what's he doing this his tie?' - at least one of your musings was relevant to the situation at hand. You watched as Connor scrunched up his tie, plugging it against the perforation in your chest and covering it with both his hands to apply heavy pressure.

You'd thought about death before. In your occupation, there was always the risk that something could go wrong, that you could get caught in a dramatic shootout and it would be over quicker than a snap of the fingers, but this - you'd never really thought about the pain that could come first.

It was intense, and coupled by the added pressure of Connor trying to attenuate the bleeding, it was excruciating. A winded sob broke free from your throat as your fingers clawed feebly at his hands, wordlessly begging him to let up on the compression even just slightly.

"Stop", he admonished firmly as his eyes travelled over your torso, and you recognised the look - he was scanning your body to ascertain the extent of your injury, "I need you to be still. The bullet is still inside you, it missed your heart by half an inch, but you are bleeding and I need to minimise it."

You laid your trembling hands above his own, eyes wide and alert with terror. Your chest was tight, the muscles in your throat were not cooperating; you couldn't swallow, you could barely breathe - it was as if you were trying to suck air in through a tiny straw - and your eyes were welling with tears.

The pain was immense and you squirmed in agony.

"I need you to be still", Connor repeated, a hitch of desperation in his voice as the calm facade began to fracture, "I-I need you to be still. Please." You tried to do as he said, but the hole in your chest was intractable.

Still, the physical pain of the bullet having torn halfway into your body was nothing in comparison to the emotional torture of seeing the look of rising anguish on Connor's face; the back of your throat was thick with saliva, but you needed to say something to him, to reassure him that you were still right there with him.

"Y-you know-" You began, your words a blend of barely coherent gurgles, and Connor shushed you, shaking his head as you continued to speak, "Gavin is- going to take… a-all the credit for- ca-atching the suspect-"

"Stop- stop, don't speak", Connor ordered, his eyes darting back and forth as he tracked your vitals, too alarmed to appreciate your attempt to lighten up the situation, not that you blamed him. You were shaking, no doubt pallid from the loss of blood, and it didn't help that you could feel the sticky warmth leaking from you, soaking your clothes a deep crimson, in spite of Connor's best efforts to cap the bleeding. Nobody was in the mood to smile.

"Why?" the word expelled from Connor's throat in a faint whisper, "Why would you do that?"

You knew what he was asking - why had you leapt into danger and taken the bullet in his place? And you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him: because I love you, you idiot, but the words could not escape your throat.

"Don't- don't answer that", Connor quickly amended, "Don't speak. Don't say anything."

He was scared. He looked remarkably composed, but you could tell from the subtle intonation of his voice - the pitch was just a tad higher than usual - and his eyes… his eyes were wet. Connor was trying valiantly to hide his fear, but you could read him perfectly, and it terrified you.

"Am I… going to die?" you managed to ask.

"No!" Connor exclaimed, his expression twisting in distress, "No, you- you'll be okay. You'll be fine." His words were strained, as if he was trying to convince himself, and you vision blurred as your tears dripped down the sides of your face.

The room felt like it was spinning, you could feel your rapid pulse weakening and you felt so cold. "...Connor", you whimpered as he began to rhythmically fall in and out of focus.

"Shh. Your body's in shock. The ambulance will be here soon, you'll be okay. You will be okay."

The edges of your vision darkened, like an ominous vignette, and Connor's gaze fluttered between your eyes at a frenetic pace; his lips parted as he let out a tremulous breath, "Stay with me", he said, and called your name when you failed to show signs of a response.

"Stay with me…"

Blackness engulfed you.

You felt an odd calm fall over you, a pleasant contentment within reach, and your first inclination was to try and capture that contentment, to move towards it and bask in it, so you could laze in the painless warmth it offered.

But in the back of your mind, something told you no. It was a false sense of security, a lie, and you needed to back away and move as far from the warmth as possible; don't trust it. Don't relent to it.

The thought of Connor being stricken with sorrow was enough to jolt you, reawakening a new strength with which to fight the call for rest. As you hardened your resolve and pushed away from the peaceful, pain-free quietude, the stronger the aching throb in your chest became, but you suffered through it, knowing you had no other choice. You had to suffer so that you could live, and you had to live so that Connor wouldn't suffer.

You felt a stirring lucidity in the back of your mind, the distant sound of calm but determined voices, bright light piercing through when you attempted to open your eyes.

And then, the sound of his voice.

"I'm here", Connor assured you, his words drifting through your consciousness, and the soothing sensation of his hand resting warmly against your own gently pacified you into a state of restful slumber.

You were in a hospital, that much was evident before you even opened your eyes. You could tell from the smell alone, the unmistakable scent of sterile materials assaulting your nostrils, and you let out a soft groan that reverberated through your lungs, causing a pinch of discomfort in your chest.

The sound of your name from Connor's lips prompted you to blink your eyes open, your alertness finding you almost immediately, and your bleary vision sharpened after a few moments to reveal a sanitary, white room, with Connor standing attentively by your bedside. The android looked mollified, blue LED steady and undisturbed, which in turn curbed your anxiety, and you provided him with a smile of solace.

"Hey", you whispered in your exhale, wincing slightly as the pain in your chest reminded you exactly what had happened.

He spoke your name again in the same breath as a relieved sigh, "How are you feeling?"

You hadn't realised until that moment that his hand was wrapped firmly around yours, his fingers rubbing gently over your knuckles in a tranquilising manner; your gaze followed the subtle movement up the back of his hand to the grey sleeve of his work jacket and you noted, with salient clarity, the dark stains that had seeped into the material.

The blood had turned a rusty brown, so it had been more than a few hours since you'd been shot. If you had to guess, you'd say it was late in the evening of the same day, given the lack of sunlight peering through the window, and since Connor was still wearing the same jacket, you surmised that he'd been stood by your bed ever since.

"I'm… ah, surprisingly okay", you spoke slowly, taking gentle breaths so as not to agitate the faint thrum of pain between your lungs, "It doesn't feel too bad."

"That would be owing to the morphine", Connor supplied, motioning the IV drip in your arm.

"That makes sense", you murmured, a delicate smile on your face, "You should've chased after the suspect - we've been after that guy for weeks. Now Reed's gonna get all the praise for catching him", you paused briefly, eyebrow knitting slightly, "I assume he did catch him? Don't tell me Gavin let the suspect get away?"

"The suspect has been detained", Connor advised, and you nodded your head.

"But Reed's gonna get the commendation instead of you", you murmured bitterly and Connor frowned, incredulousness manifesting in his taut expression.

"That doesn't matter", he spoke softly, "I don't care about the case credit. I could've lost you. I… I thought I had lost you."

The android's quiet admission purged the smile from your face, a wave of skittish adrenaline flooding through you as you determined the serious note in Connor's voice - it filled you with guilt, knowing you had caused him temporary heartache, but you knew for a fact that if you had to live it again, you would still choose to take the bullet in his place.

"Why did you do it?"

You surveyed his troubled face, disbelieving that he still hadn't deduced the answer to that question, and you gave a breathy exhale of amusement, "You really don't know?"

His eyebrows knitted, he shook his head rigidly.

"You could've died if you'd been shot, Connor-"

"You could have died", the android countered, "It is far easier to repair an android than it is to perform life-saving surgery on a human - any number of things could have gone wrong. You should have stayed put." There was an almost imperceptible quiver to his lip, "Never put yourself in danger for my sake. Promise me you won't do anything like that ever again."

You looked into his brown eyes, so warm and full of worry, and smiled, "I can't promise you that."

Your name left his lips in a breath of exasperation. You squeezed his hand.

"I did it because I love you, Connor."

Your heart jumped in your chest with the confession, prompting a ripple of pain to flutter through you, but you ignored it, your gaze trained stiffly on the android's face as you searched him for a reaction.

Connor's lips parted, his eyes blinking slowly a few times as he processed the revelation, and then a soft noise fell from his throat - something comprised of shock and wonder - and he raised your hand to lay an open-mouthed kiss upon your knuckles.

"...I think I love you too."

Notes: AS OF RIGHT NOW, I am temporarily not taking requests. I have a backlog all the way up to chapter 22 and while I'm super happy that so many people have prompts they want me to fill, the thought of them backing up too much totally stresses me out lmao :') So, once I get closer to chapter 22, I will open up requests again!

Thank you all so much, I hope you enjoy all the upcoming chapters!

Please remember to leave me a review! They really make me happy!