Killian's POV

I felt my my finger nails dig further into the palm of my hand as this imbecile besides me continued to irritate me with his attempted small talk.

Why did people on planes always feel as if they needed to strike up a conversation with the person besides them? This was almost as vexing as talkative Uber drivers.

I glanced down at his knee as it brushed against mine once again.

Killian, I spoke to myself, control yourself.

Be calm.

Be composed.

Maybe this was what normal humans did.

It's just a bloody conversation.

You can handle it.

"Yeah I'm flying into Chicago to one of my penthouse suites for the weekend. You should really stop by..."

I looked at this guy through my peripheral vision. He was just shy of maybe 60 years old. His body quite literally took up two entire seats so I wasn't sure if his leg bumping into me was intentional or not.

"I think we could really make a connection.. have a good time." he finished. His hand started slowly sliding down a thigh inching closer to touch mine.

I calmly removed the earbud I had in my right ear and turned to him.

As his eyes soon met my dead ones, his expression changed. "The only connection I'll be having is my flight from Chicago to New York, and my hand when it connects to the back of your neck and slams your face into this plane seat in front of us if you even think of touching me." I replied. My voice was low and collected.

His entire body recoiled at my words as he suddenly became interested in the safety instructions ticket in his lap.

I slipped the earbud back into my ear and listened to sound of the airplane. Sarah had told me to just put in earbuds whenever I didn't feel like conversing... which was 99% percent of the time.

The airplane seat jutted forward as the kid behind me went back to kicking the back of the chair. I felt my body lurch forward once again.

I fucking hated planes.

-
Sarah's POV

"Ahh, crazy Pete again?" I asked, slipping my badge back on to the waist line of my jeans as I jogged down the short flight of stairs into the precinct's main lobby area. Crazy Pete was back at it, carrying on an exaggerated conversation with one of our officers. "What's he going on about this time?"

"He's trying to file a complaint against Walmart. He said they refused to accept the rotisserie chicken he bought a couple weeks ago." James replied, walking towards me to hand me a coffee. We both took a seat at our desks towards the far end of the room. I couldn't help but smile.

"I'ts always something." I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Chief says your leaving in a few hours to go pick up your brother. I didn't even know you had any family." James spoke. I gave him an eye roll.

"Of course I have family, I just never spoke to you about my family. It's just me and my brother now though and he's... well he's-" I trailed off.

"He's a psychopath." Chief Roberts cut in, as he slapped a few files on our joint desks. "Morning O'Hara, morning Conway."

"Morning Chief." James and I nodded.

"You're ridiculous Chief. I'm sure he's a fine kid, Sarah, probably just a little anti social." James added.

Me and Chief Roberts exchanged looks.

"Technically speaking, he's a sociopath." I replied a little uneasy. I never really liked talking about my brother like this. I never really liked talking about my brother period.

"A sociopath?" James asked. He looked at us as if we must have been pulling his leg. "So let me get this straight: You work at the N.Y.P.D. and your brother is a legitimate sociopath." His eyes showed something of confusion yet intrigue. "Aren't these the kind of people we arrest?"

  "Well... yes and no. There's a bit of a difference between a psychopath and sociopath. Psychopaths tend to experience zero remorse and empathy yet they are very well adapted to their surroundings. Often incredibly conniving. I mean technically speaking, a sociopath doesn't really know how to relate to emotions such as empathy, but he does have somewhat a sense of right and wrong. We've been... working on his interactions. He's doing better I think, but showing signs of remorse can sometimes be troubling. Like I know he feels something but he still struggles with expressing it." I explained. "He's more like a highly functioning sociopath."

"And a bloody genius at that. The kid's only 19 and he just graduated with a masters. He's currently on his PhD in... In... Shit, what was it O'Hara?"

"Cell Biology and Development." I replied.

James eyebrows raised at that. "Is he some kind of prodigy?"

"Basically. Haven't seen that kid in a little over a year, and I'm still not sure my self esteem has fully recovered from our last encounter." Chief Roberts sighed. I had to mask a smile at that.

That's just how my brother was. He didn't really talk much or care to show an interest in anyone besides me, but when it came to Chief Roberts, there was just some weird relationship. Chief saw it as Killian hating him, but I saw quite the opposite.

The fact that he showed any interest at all in the Chief proved that he meant something to Killian, even if Killian could be a serious asshole when it came to Roberts.

I think that fucked up friendship went both ways though, Whether the Chief would admit it or not.

-

I fidgeted with the loose fabric of my jacket as I waited slightly impatient by the baggage claim area.

Where the hell was he?

I glanced around, surveying my area. I always felt like I was on the job, even when I wasn't. A few businessmen made their way down to the baggage claim area. There was only a few luggage's left to claim from the flight from Chicago to New York and I was starting to get a little worried.

For the most part, Killian was punctual.

"Boo." Someone whispered right beside my ear.

I almost tripped over myself stumbling back as my eyes connected with Killian's instantly.

Killian was the only person I knew who could sneak up on me.

"Fucking shit." I whispered. "I hate it when you do that."

"Hey big sis." he smiled.. well if you could call it that. There was very rarely ever a time where he did smile, besides family photos and the likes. Even then, the smile was false and always seemed slightly psychotic.

"Hey lil bro." I smiled back. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the slight bruising on his knuckles.

He just flew in, Sarah, don't interrogate him right now. Give him some time to settle, I thought to myself as I grabbed the suitcases he was carrying and helped him roll them out to my vehicle.