Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Apex Predator

"Please-" The chains rattled along the table as the killer begged for mercy, trying to scoot away from the predator stalking his prey, "Please leave me alone..."

"I know you killed him...Why don't you say it?!" Connor's focus never strayed as he paced, turning his back to the glass.

"Please – Please stop!"

Connor's arms raised. His hands came down, pounding the table in his reign of terror.

"Just say, 'I killed him!' Is it that hard to SAY?!"

"Stop it, STOP!"

Connor latched onto the murder's shirt like his hands were a set of jaws.

"Jesus...Shit-" Hank's eyebrows creased.

"Just say you killed him!" He yanked his fresh kill to his feet, wrists still bound to the table, "JUST SAY IT!"

The microphone crackled from the booming demand. The four of you were speechless, watching with wide circles for eyes.

Just like that, Connor let him go. The deviant landed in his chair with a loud "thud." Connor pulled on his jacket, straightening it out. He studied the pieces of the shattered individual below him, returning to his seat and hardly making a sound as he lowered himself.

He had an ominous look about him – one that shouldn't have been exhilarating. You shouldn't have been enjoying any of this, but watching him break...Watching him show such raw, unrefined emotion...

You were mesmerized. Attracted to the danger in his eyes. The strength in his presence. His cold, calculated demeanor...

You remembered what resulted from the last time you pursued a man like that, and snapped yourself out of it.

The suspect's panic dissolved. His shuddering pupils stilled. The quivering on his lips formed a hard line. He'd been lost in his own nightmare, and Connor had pulled him stumbling back to a harsh reality.

"He tortured me every day...I did whatever he told me, but...There was always something wrong..." His eyes lifted to Connor with what seemed like a mixture of hate and sadness, "Then one day...He took a bat and started hitting me...For the first time, I felt..."

A word rolled off his tongue with a definitive break.

"Scared..." He paused, mouth slightly ajar, "Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die..."

Hank stirred next to you. He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. He was quiet, and enthralled...You hadn't seen him passionate about a case in a long, long time.

"So I...grabbed the knife, and I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better...so I stabbed him again, and AGAIN..." The deviant parroted Connor's previous notion, "Until he collapsed. There was blood, everywhere..."

He wasn't a murderer without probable cause. He was, at one point, a victim. Now, he was a survivor.

A survivor with a story of self-defense that no one cared about.

"Fucking. FINALLY." Gavin yawned, halfway across the room before Hank's arm barred him.

"Not yet." He looked up, "I don't think Connor's finished."

"Jesus fu...Look, we have a confession. We have a motive. Why are you so fucking fixated on dragging this out?"

"Because, ASSHOLE," Hank sprang from his seat, the chair spinning behind him, "There's a fucking caseload twice the size of the rulebook in my inbox involving these haywire fucks, and I need to figure out WHY."