Work Text:
Connor groans when his cell phone ringing wakes him up. It’s the last day of his spring break trip with Oliver and he doesn’t want the outside world interfering. He groans again when he sees that it’s Annalise, as he figures that means he’ll be spending the day working. “Hello,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Mr. Walsh, you can’t come home,” Annalise says, skipping all pleasantries.
“What you mean, I can’t come home,” Connor exclaims, now completely alert.
“The police questioned Mr. Gibbons about purchases he made the night of the bonfire. The next step will be tying the car with Michigan plates to you,” Annalise explains. “And we both know if the police question you, you’ll freak out and fall apart.”
“Look about that…” Connor begins.
“You have anxiety, I know,” Annalise says. “Frank is making sure there’s nothing incriminating in your apartment and found an empty pill bottle. Did Mr. Hampton bring his laptop on the trip or is that going to have to be retrieved from his apartment.”
Connor looks over at Oliver. Even though his eyes are still closed, he can tell his boyfriend is awake. “What does Oliver’s laptop have to do with anything?” Connor asks his breathing starting to get erratic.
Oliver opens his eyes at the mention of his name and quickly sits up and takes this phone from Connor so he doesn’t have to have a panic attack with his boss listening. “This is Oliver,” he says.
“Mr. Hampton what has Mr. Walsh told you about the night of the bonfire?” Annalise asks.
“Everything,” Oliver replies, keeping one eye on Connor in case he needs to remind his boyfriend to breathe. “I forced the truth out of him a couple days ago.”
“Well the police questioned Mr. Gibbons about his purchases that night,” Annalise says.
“And Wes was in Connor’s car, so they’ll want to talk to him next,” Oliver deduces, sounding calmer than he feels. “And then to me because I’m Connor’s boyfriend.” Oliver places his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to talk to Connor. “Deep breaths, babe.”
Connor flips Oliver off, which means he’s not in full panic attack mode yet, so Oliver turns his attention back to Annalise. “You’re worried they’ll find out about my work for you, aren’t you?”
“There’s no indication that you’re on their radar, but if they start obtaining search warrants, they’re going to figure out that Mr. Walsh is rarely at his apartment and then get a warrant for yours.”
“Makes sense,” Oliver concedes. “Don’t worry, my laptop is with me.”
“I’d still like to have my associate take a look around your apartment for anything else potentially incriminating,” Annalise responds.
“Yeah that’s fine,” Oliver responds, giving Annalise his address, though he has his suspicions that she already knows it. “Look Connor and I both have medications that we can’t discontinue,” he adds. “We’re going to make shitty fugitives.”
“That’s why you’re going to Cuba,” Annalise responds. “Miss Pratt and Miss Castillo are on their way to Palm Beach under the guise of Miss Castillo having a family emergency. From there they shall make their way to you in Key West. I have a friend with a boat that will take you all to Havana.”
“Havana?” Oliver asks. “Isn’t that a little conspicuous?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Annalise replies. “Cuba doesn’t extradite, so once you’re there you don’t need to hide.”
“Um right. We’re still going to need money and our medications and stuff,” Oliver points out.
“It’s all being taken care off. Miss Pratt and Miss Castillo will fill you in when they get there.”
“Right. Thank you Professor Keating. For warning us and taking care of things.” When he ends the call he finds Connor in the bathroom, where he has progressed to a full-blown panic attack.
“We’re going to jail. We’re all going to jail and it’s my fault,” Connor says when he notices Oliver.
“Breathe Connor,” Oliver says gently, taking his hands. “And not jail. Cuba. Annalise is taking care of us. All of us.”
“But they’ll track us there,” Connor protests, though he forces himself to take a few deep breaths.
“Annalise has a friend with a boat. And Cuba doesn’t extradite, so it doesn’t matter if they do it.”
“But my meds. Your meds,” Connor says. “Especially your meds.”
“Annalise is taking care of that too. She said Laurel and Michaela will fill us in. They’re on their way here,” Oliver responds.
“Hold me?” Connor asks, his voice small.
Oliver wraps his arms around Connor. “And don’t you dare blame yourself for getting me involved. I got myself involved.”
“Tell me everything’s going to be okay,” Connor says, clinging tightly to his boyfriend.
“It’s going to be okay. I promise,” Oliver says, hoping he didn’t just lie to his boyfriend.