John paced up and down the length of his bedroom, which was bigger than most bedrooms anyone living in Eburhard City would even dream of. He was nervous, and the wall he had decided to paint red wasn't helping. He really should change that to blue. His eyes flickered between fiery red, pale green, and black.
“Honey, could you come here a sec?” His mother's voice called. He wanted to say no, but it was impossible to say that to Cynthia Dawson.
“Coming.” John responded, checking himself in the mirror to make sure he had switched his eyes back to an indifferent grey before opening the mahogany door and stepping into the hall. His mother stared up at him from below the banister, smiling sweetly as she always did.
“Your father and I want to talk to you.” She told him, beckoning him to come downstairs.
John raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue, drifting down the shining wooden staircase.
“What is it?” John said, trying to sound intrigued instead of irritated.
His father, a gigantic muscular man, stepped into the foyer, a calm yet stern look on his face. He greatly contrasted his rather petite and warm wife, but nobody ever mentioned it in their presence. “We've decided to send you on another mission, since you've done so well in the past.”
“Am I working solo?” John had to ask, since he already knew his parents wanted him to do some sort of spying or some other silent task.
“Of course you are, you work best alone.” His father responded, a hint of pride in his tone.
“Johnny dear,” His mother started, and John quietly exhaled, but didn't correct her. He had gotten tired of telling her not to call him Johnny. “We want you to spy on the Adeelah. Get as much information as you can to help our cause.”
John was momentarily shocked by how quickly his mother had gotten to the point, then realized what she had said. “You want me to spy on the Adeelah?”
His mother stifled her excitement. “You've done so well, and you're one of the best spies on any side.”
A few Abigorian names and aliases passed through John's mind, but he didn't contradict her, even if he knew she was wrong. “Mother, that's across the city. You expect me to go there and come back every day?”
“Of course not!” She assured him. “We have an apartment ready for you to move into just on the other side of the bridge!”
“You didn't think to ask me before setting this all up?” John's eyes flickered red for a brief moment.
“You're leaving tomorrow, whether you like it or not.” His father told him, an edge of irritation in his voice as well. “Pack a bag or two. There's food in the apartment already and some money in a safe hidden in a cabinet. I'll give you the key when you leave.”
John didn't have time to be mad, so he took a breath and nodded. “Alright. I'll go pack.”
His mother took him by the hand as he turned to go back up the stairs. “You're going to be there a little over a month. We won't check on you. Stay safe, okay?”
John stared at his mother's fragile hand and didn't look at her when he responded. “When have I ever failed you?”
He slipped his hand out of her grasp and trudged up the staircase, not saying another word.
He closed the door to his bedroom as quietly as he could, then his anger took over, his eyes exploding into a blood red as he turned and slammed his fist into the punching bag hanging from his ceiling.
John kicked and jabbed at the bag until he couldn't anymore. He sat down on the wooden floor and breathed heavily, a few beads of sweat dripping down his face.
“Why don't I get a say?” He panted, flipping his now sweat-filled hair out of his face. “I'm 21. I should be living in my own house. But of course, they refuse to let me because I ‘might tell someone who I am.’”
He stood, grabbing two black duffel bags from his closet and tossing them onto the floor. “Not that I'm complaining. I don't have to pay rent. But sometimes I wish I could just be left alone.” He threw his suit into a bag, along with an extra pair of black cargo pants. John then began to sort through his drawers, tossing a few outfits into the second bag. “Maybe be like every other Hagen and get commands by an official rather than straight from the Heads.”
Johnathan sighed, looking down at the bags as he dropped a toothbrush and toothpaste into the pile. His eyes swam with blues now as he stared at the mess of fabrics. He had wanted to be away from his parents, but now that he was getting it, he wasn't sure he liked the conditions.
Go check out our FWRP also based in Eburhard! (/354390) We've worked very hard on this, and we hope you like it :)
(Also, Phil, don't eat this, please)
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Detroit: Become Human
"Life is not the things that we do, it's who we're doing them with."