Where the rot took root

by Cat_E_Cholamine

Summary:

RPD had always been the dream. Leon should be happy – he is happy.

But he can't fool himself, not when he can see what everyone else can't.

This place is simply off. Irons gives him the creeps, nobody's taking care of Sherry, and why can't three law enforcement departments find at least one lead between them for all these disappearances?

 

(The fic formerly known as: The Brightest Lights Hide the Darkest Shadows)

Chapter 1

It was never ideal to move into a new city in the dead of night. The loneliness of the dark road was adept at setting anyone on edge, let alone a complete stranger to its twists and turns. Not that there was much choice in the matter. He had to move sometime after all and when he finally got the call to start his induction he had packed up and hauled out within a few hours. His ex would have called him overeager. Leon preferred committed.

 

A small ping alerted him to the dashboard reminding him once again to fill up on fuel. He groaned. He really wanted to make it to the city as soon as possible, lay out some sheets on the mattress, and get some sleep before work. Sighing Leon checked the map splayed out on the passenger seat; he was still a good few too many miles off to be running on fumes. He debated for a few moments longer considering just risking it when he suddenly heard a low groan over the radio, jolting him alert. Bewildered for a few moments the groan sounded again - his stomach, he realised. That settled it for him. As he'd been lectured all his life – accidents happened when people didn't take care of themselves.

 

He picked up the map to study it a bit more carefully – grateful that there was nobody on the road this time of night – and perked up when he noticed that there was a station only another little bit ahead. He felt lucky for once.

 

Not that things were bad. This move, for one, was a good thing. A very good thing. The universe was on his side. The Raccoon Police Department (otherwise known as RPD) was a great place for a career in law enforcement – the literal home of the legendary STARS – and Raccoon City itself was a great metropolitan location. Leon was already doing better than most of his friends from the Academy. Taylor was sent to Chesapeake, for God’s sake. They had all been salivating to get a place in RPD. Leon had been one of them; he applied there as his top choice. It wasn't even that far from New York City compared to LA which was where Lisa had originally wanted him to apply so it was perfect for him for his career and her for the location and they could easily go back and forth if need be–

 

He sighed, wiping hot pinpricks from his eyes. He was so over this. It didn't matter in the end anyway.

 

He was here now. 

 

And the distance turned out to be a good thing in the end, despite it effectively killing their two year relationship. 

 

Leon silenced this train of thought before it spiralled once more. He turned his thoughts instead towards what he would buy as he spotted the halogen lights of the Mizoil. Pulling into a pump lot he vowed to do the objectively healthier thing to get himself through this: drown himself in candy rather than alcohol. He rolled his eyes at his own melodrama and resolved to take a deep breath in and exhale as he began to fill up the tank. Just like he'd been taught – breathe through the frustrations. 

 

He took in his surroundings; being out in the sticks wasn’t exactly foreign to him but it was strange knowing he wouldn’t live too far from it now. It was even stranger being completely alone out here in the middle of nowhere, and he felt more than just the bite of the wind chill his core as he scanned for other life signs. 

 

That was when it caught his eye: a car with its door ajar - emblazoned with the county sheriff’s logo - haphazardly parked in a no parking zone. "That's weird,” he found himself saying aloud. How the hell did he only just notice that?

 

He squeezed the gas pump a little more tightly, willing the damn thing to hurry up. Seemed he might be starting his job a bit sooner than he thought. Carefully, he placed the pump back in its station before going to take a peek inside the abandoned vehicle. No dust so it hadn’t been here long (neither had the deputy), and no signs of foul play either from what he could tell in the shitty flickering light. The keys weren’t in the ignition either, so it seemed that the officer, whoever they were, would have had time to take them with them. Analysing the evidence, Leon surmised that it was unlikely anyone was in serious trouble.

 

Still, he kept his guard up. An age-old mantra repeated in his head: bad things happen where there's complacency.

 

He took a deep breath and quickly tried to assess the situation. Someone could potentially be in danger - unlikely but potentially all the same. Why would a sheriff’s deputy rush out of a car like that on a highway? In the middle of the night, at that. Right now he had no clues other than the car which had no signs of struggle from what he could tell. He looked around to be certain – no other cars were in sight. At the minimum there were only two people in the station, including himself. 

 

Leon thought for a moment, running through his options. Should he call for help? He wasn't too far from the city, and considering he hadn't been issued with a badge and a state-issued firearm yet it was probably safer. 

 

And yet...  

 

The shutters were drawn closed despite the 'open for business' sign. Leon bit his cheek, chewing on his thoughts a moment longer before straightening and pressing onwards. He had to make sure.

 

He tried the door, relieved when it opened but worried to find the anticipated interior shrouded in darkness. "Hello?" he called out. "Anybody there?"

 

No response.

 

Leon surveyed the aisles quickly, finally locating and ripping open a flashlight from the 'essentials' shelf. "I promise I'll pay for that!" he called out to the empty shop, more out of nervousness than anything else. Knowing his luck, he’d probably get blasted full of shotgun shells by some hypervigilant Midwestern station clerk on suspicion of thievery while trying to help out. 

 

He slotted the accompanying batteries inside before clicking it on. "And the gas too!" he added as he darted the flashlight around.

 

With light available he retraced his steps to see if he had missed anything in his blindness. Nothing of note. "Anyone? No?"

 

His heart leapt out of his chest when a sudden bang sounded behind him. Whirling around he aimed his flashlight at its source – the employees’ area. Slowly, he attempted to turn the knob only to find it locked. This was really starting to set him on edge. He deliberated a moment longer; this was the point of no return. He really should call for help. Doors were locked for a reason. 

 

But on the other hand, he wasn’t in New York anymore. Help could be hours away for all he knew. By then it could easily be too late. As luck would have it Leon was the one who was here right now. He could do this. It’s why he was here in the first place.

 

His mind made up, Leon hurried behind the register and scanned the back for a few moments until he spotted what he was looking for: the lockbox. He plucked the spare staff key and once again tried the door, and with a deafening creak that had his bones shuddering it finally opened.

 

He shouldered his way in slowly, remembering his training. He tried to get his bearings in the squished aisles of the stock room. Another bang rang out – alerting his attention to a nearby unit. He felt his breath quicken, mind absolutely racing with potential options: calling out again, drawing his personal weapon, turning back – he took another deep breath and forced it to relax.

 

He tightened his grip on his flashlight and approached the source of the sound. A horrible stench immediately assailed him – he wrinkled his nose, suppressing his stomach roiling - and he looked down to find his white sneakers dipped in a puddle of... something .

 

Another crash – right next to him this time – and Leon sharply spun round to find himself face-to-face with another pair of eyes.

 

Leon barely managed a yelp of “Jesus!” before he stumbled, slipping and nearly falling into that horrible repugnant odour and as he shone his light up hoping to at least blind his attacker long enough to right his balance he finally realised–

 

That was a raccoon staring back at him.

 

" Jesus Christ ." He panted, still reeling from the brief spate of horror. "I hate things sneaking up on me."

 

The raccoon quirked its head, perplexed.

 

"Yes, that goes for you too. I don't care if you've got a whole city named after you," Leon stepped out of the puddle of what he finally identified as spoilt milk, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Though it could’ve been a much worse substance it turned his stomach nonetheless. He was never going to shop for perishables here that's for sure. "Now shoo already, you'll get sick off this stuff."

 

As if to spite him the raccoon promptly munched on a cookie from the box next to it.

 

"Cookies and milk, huh?" Leon shook his head in mirth, the knot in his chest loosening exponentially. "Decent midnight snack for when the cat's away, right?"

 

The raccoon chittered as it happily munched away on more cookies. Leon tried to search for a mop or better yet a light switch so he could see what was past his arms at least when he heard something. Noises. Whispers was perhaps more accurate even though they were hissing so loudly they barely qualified.

 

He followed the sound once more, this time to a door labelled ‘Manager's Office’ . He shifted uneasily, his gut urging him that something was wrong, that surely whoever was in there would have at least heard the raccoon breaking the goods in the back and would come out to investigate. That perhaps someone was in trouble.

 

He already made it this far. Better safe than sorry.

 

He chanced the doorknob. It twisted open. Seemingly unendingly, the door pushed inwards. 

 

"I just need to know you're gonna be okay with that," is all Leon managed to hear before a man – the manager, Leon presumed from his sitting behind the desk – caught sight of him and stood abruptly in a half panic. The man in front of him turned around sharply (the sheriff’s deputy, complete with  the tan uniform), and shot Leon a frown. 

 

"You're not supposed to be here."

 

Leon was so glad he didn't already have the gun tucked in his jeans' waistband pulled out by this point. "Sorry, officer," he said, raising his hands placatingly, "your car was open and the lights were off and I heard noises-"

 

“Is that an excuse for trespassing now?”

 

Oh no. 

 

“I wasn’t-“

 

“You always steal keys so you can nose around behind locked doors when you’re so concerned?”

 

 Oh God.

 

“I didn’t steal – I was just borrowing – You’ve got the wrong idea here!”

 

"Well then mind your own damn business, kid. Or at least knock like a civilised person. I don't know where the hell you're from but out here we don't go around breaking and entering based on a damn suspicion ."

 

Oh God. 

 

This was it. He was going to get arrested on his first night here – and he was barely across the state line. 

 

“Dan, cut the guy some slack already.”

 

Dan scoffed at the station clerk. “That so? So I guess I should just up and leave you to watch your own back out here then? Never mind the fact this kid is clearly packing in the middle of the fucking night .”

 

Leon felt his eyes widen as terror began to claw at his heart. Mathilda burned hot at his back. “I promise I’m not here to rob you. I’m a cop, I swear.”

 

“Your badge.”

 

“What?”

 

“Show me your damn badge,” Dan demanded. “I won’t have some punk impersonating an officer to get out of his problems.”

 

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. Sure, that’s - no problem.” 

 

He patted for his wallet, swallowing to relieve some of the dryness that was stealing his breath. It starts to work but then his memory catches up with his panic. Fuck. “I, uh. I don’t… have one.”

 

“Come again?” But the hard tone held no trace of question.

 

Leon’s hands instinctively shot back up in the air. “Tomorrow’s my first day – in Raccoon City.”

 

He can just about make out Dan’s left eye twitch ever so slightly in the half-dead fluorescent light.

 

“I’m not lying.”

 

Not that the truth mattered much if the guy in charge here didn’t believe it.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The clerk ran a hand down his face. “Dan, this would be the dumbest lie, would you just calm the hell down already? The kid looks white as a sheet and I don’t wanna mop up after you scare him into upchucking all over my clean floors.”

 

Leon tried not to wince as he recalled the spoilt milk in the stock room. He wanted out of this place right now . 

 

Dan rolled his eyes and muttered something about how that’ll be a first before he relaxed his posture into something marginally less intimidating. “Fine,” he said, though he sounded anything but, “I still want your name, kid.”

 

Leon slowly lowered his arms, muscles aching from the tension that wrought them. “It’s Leon, sir, Leon Kennedy. But if you’re planning on looking me up it’s Leon S. Kennedy.”

 

The clerk looked helplessly to the heavens, and Leon could just about catch a groan of “this fucking kid” spoken with a kind of pained amusement reserved for watching car crashes.

 

“What’s the ‘S’ for?” Dan asked decidedly unamused. “Shithead?”

 

His face was on fire as he clarified, “Scott – for my uncle. He was also a cop.”

 

“Jesus Christ ,” he heard the clerk, still muttering heavenward, before snapping, “Dan, either you stop or the embarrassment will get me before anything else.”

 

The phrasing had Leon’s stomach dropping like a lead weight.

 

“Fuck, okay I’m sorry alright,” Dan said quickly. “This shit has just got me all messed up.” He exhaled sharply, and Leon felt more than saw the tension dispel. “I’m sorry, Officer Kennedy. I shouldn’t have been so hostile, but the way things are right now it’s hard not to give in to paranoia. Not that that’s an excuse.”

 

“Wait – hold up a second – what’s the way things are right now?”

 

“You kidding me? It’s all anyone talks about now.” At Leon’s dumb face, Dan shook his head, “For fuck’s sake, did his holiness Irons not give you some at least some heads up before you hauled ass from – where the hell did you come from again?”

 

“New York.”

 

Even the clerk looked a shade paler. “What the fuck? They got you all the way from New York and didn’t tell you what you were up against?”

 

“What? What am I up against?”

 

“Christ, Alan, don’t scare him shitless.”

 

“What the hell is going on?”

 

“Oh fuck this night,” Dan muttered, digging his thumbs under his orbital bridge before sighing loudly. “I guess it falls to the sheriff’s department to clean up after the fucking RPD. Again. ” He dropped his hands from his face and spoke in earnest, “I’m gonna level with you, kid. There’s been some… unusual activity around these parts. Stranger things have happened, God knows, but we’re seeing some… some disappearances. More so than usual anyway. Mostly around the Arklay mountains, but now some even in Raccoon City and along this highway.

 

“What’s the story?”

 

“Nothing so far. No clues, no witnesses, no suspects as far as I know either.”

 

“How long has this been going on for?”

 

“Hard to put a timeline. There’s been some strange things going on for a while but the disappearances? Maybe around two, maybe three months, if I had to put money on it.”

 

“You mean murders, right?” Leon said, quiet and measured. It wasn’t a question that needed answering when Dan grimaced and avoided eye contact and Alan looked like he was about to drop any moment. 

 

Leon scanned over the room: the brand-new telephone on the table in a room full of shabby furniture, the cases of water and energy bars stacked next to the door hinges, Alan behind the desk the whole time with his hands out of view. Most likely to pull out the shotgun he’d no doubt taped underneath at a moment’s notice.

 

For the first time Leon is thankful Lisa had ended things with him.

 

“Come on,” Dan said, taking his shoulder. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”

 

“I’m fine I just - I’m-” he sighed, bone tired, “this has just been a really crazy night.”

 

Dan chuckled. “Yeah well you’re a cop now. Get used to it.” He pat him twice on the shoulder before shuffling him out. “Wait by the front for me, okay? We’ll just be a minute.”

 

The door clicked shut behind him and Leon was alone in the dark once more.

Chapter 2

It’s not that Leon was scared. 

 

He knew he could take care of himself. He had been in the top ranks for marksmanship back in the Academy. He had regularly posted great scores in his exams. Even his letter of recommendation from his hardass of a supervisor had described him as a ‘smart, sensible, and capable young man with a very bright future’. While Arklay may be unfamiliar territory he’d lived in New York City. He’d seen it all. 

 

And yet.

 

Everyone was on a knife’s edge. There were disappearances. Murders. Nobody had thought it prudent to notify him of a phenomenon that had the locals literally living in fear. And now here he was in the middle of fucking nowhere completely isolated from all he had ever known with the next city who knows how miles away. He certainly didn’t pass by any on his way up. 

 

Leon shook off the chill that ran through him. Deep breaths. He could do this. Serial killers were common enough, unfortunately. It’s just the shock that’s got him. It was the middle of the night; he’d been driving for hours, and had been in fight-or-flight mode since he arrived at the damn gas station. He was just tense, that’s all.

 

He pushed himself off the wall he’d found himself leaning on at some point. Another deep breath for good measure. His nose wrinkled with the smell of the expired milk. His eyes, long adjusted to the dark now, located the light switch. At least the raccoon was gone; he really didn’t want to add rabies infection to the growing list of this evening’s no good, very bad events. Leon spotted the bucket and mop in the back and decided he might as well get to work. Alan may have been a terrible store manager but he seemed a decent enough man. 

 

With the floor freshly cleaned he glanced back at the shelf the raccoon had perched on earlier (which was left surprisingly crumb-free by such a dirty, hungry, wild animal) and picked up the abandoned shredded cookie box, ‘Rodney’s Arklay Bakes ’. He briefly wondered whether the cute cartoon raccoon with a chef hat and a whisk is what drew the animal to target it specifically or whether its contents were just that irresistible. Leon felt the tug of a small smile and grabbed a fresh box for himself, just to see what the fuss was about really, before of course making sure to check the expiration date. Twice. He did not need food poisoning right now. 

 

He headed back into the store, picked up the used battery packet and empty flashlight box on the way, and began weighing up his options for a cold drink from the fridge. They had the usuals like cola, lemonade, and several rows of a local brand of green herb tea. The problem was it didn’t say which herb it was, only that it was grown in Arklay mountains and could allegedly heal your spirit which seemed a little suspicious if nothing else. He’d certainly never heard of it being bottled and drunk en masse before, but maybe the Midwest allowed for a looser interpretation of the war on drugs. It didn’t matter, he definitely wasn’t risking it while Dan was hovering around, not when he was sure he could find it somewhere in the city anyway. It seemed popular enough if there were several dedicated rows in a tiny gas station. 

 

Leon was mentally noting the brand for future reference when suddenly his peripheral vision noticed a distinctly human shadow descending upon the entrance. Leon dropped everything and quickly whipped his flashlight out with one hand ready to reach for Mathilda right as the door was flung open. “Oh my God!” a very surprised very female voice gasped, her hands darting upwards to cover her face. “Take it easy, will you?!”

 

“Jesus, sorry, Miss!” he spluttered, immediately throwing his arms down and out in front of him. What the hell was he doing blinding lone women now?! “I thought you – are you alright?” 

 

The woman, a young one about Leon’s age, is still rubbing her eyes and blinking rapidly, “I will be in a sec,” she said in a tone that suggested she was anything but. “What the hell was that?”

 

“I’m so sorry. It’s just… long night. Just a bit jumpy and thought there was an intruder.”

 

“Entering through the front door?"

 

“Yeah, sorry I’m an idiot. I heard there was-” he paused for a moment. If she didn’t know already then she shouldn’t find out like this. “There was a raccoon earlier. Thought he came back.”

 

It sounded so lame even to his own ears. “I’d be happy to pay for your gas for the whole… blinding you in the face thing.”

 

“Don’t do that and make me feel like an asshole when I’m still pretty pissed off,” she groaned, having rubbed the last of it away.

 

“I am really sorry.”

 

She huffed. “Yeah, you said that already.” She sighed in exasperation once more before heading over to fish a packet of Skittles from the candy aisle. “It’s cool, so long as you buy me this, so you can stop it with the sad face,” she said before tossing the bag at him.

 

He caught it. “Oh, sure. I’d be happy to.”

 

She rolled her eyes, not quite as irritated as moments ago but definitely more bemused. Leon suddenly felt like a pet who’d done something bad but cute like make a mess on the carpet – a surprisingly apt analogy, come to think of it. “You’re a cop, right?”

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“Your form back there gave you away. My brother’s in STARS, so he taught me a thing or two.”

 

“Oh, really?” He tried not to preen too much at the thought someone affiliated with STARS was praising him.

 

“Yeah, all cops seem to have that super basic stance from their training.”

 

“Oh. Really?” Ouch.

 

“Relax, I’m just teasing,” she laughed. “I had to get you back some way. Are you starting in RPD by any chance?”

 

“Yeah, it’s my first day tomorrow. I was just stopping off for supplies,” he lifted up the cookies.

 

She laughed even more. “Is that where you got the raccoon story from?”

 

“No, there really was one,” he said with feigned indignation.

 

“Uh huh, sure.”

 

“I’m serious! I had to pry this from his little claws before he ate the rest of the boxes!”

 

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged. “What’s a little tall tale once in a while?”

 

“Oh my God ,” he groaned. “Have I made a mistake? Should I turn back now? Does everyone in Raccoon City use terrible puns?”

 

“Nope, I’m one of a kind.”

 

“Right. And you are?”

 

“Claire,” she said as stuck out her hand.

 

“Leon,” he returned with a firm grip. “So, what are you-“

 

“Hey, sorry that took a while, kid!” Alan wheezes as he rushes back from the store room. “Dan’ll be out in a sec – and you’ve brought in another customer, good going!” 

 

“You can go first, Claire.”

 

“Thanks,” she said to him before skipping up to the till. “It’s the red bike out by pump three:  two gallons of gasoline.”

 

“Alright, that’ll be $2.43, please.”

 

Leon tried to recall the price per gallon back in New York, idly wondering whether the price of the Midwest will translate to groceries also being more expensive. Maybe someone at work would know of some cheaper stores.

 

“Hey, get up here,” she called out to him, teasingly. She did that a lot, Leon noted. “I want my Skittles now.”

 

“Sorry, I’m not exactly in a hurry to bankrupt myself,” he said with mock exasperation, depositing his items on the counter, before handing over the Skittles first. “Pump one for six gallons. And please ring this up before she decides she gets any more ideas,” he deadpanned, much to Claire’s amusement.

 

“Hey, you’re the one who offered to pay for my gas! I let you off easy!”

 

“You’re the one who didn’t take me up on it,” he handed the Skittles to her once Alan finished. “You’ve made your bed.”

 

“That’ll be $21.33.” Leon tried not to wince as he handed over his cash. This stupid place had really cost him tonight.

 

“Hey, Kennedy, you ready to go?” Jesus, speaking of costs.

 

Alan groaned, “For Christ’s sake, Dan.” 

 

“What?”

 

Alan no-so-subtly nodded at Claire and Leon, much to Leon’s embarrassment. Oh God. He wasn’t aware he was doing something like that . Dan glanced at them a moment before shrugging at Alan, who bellowed an exasperated sigh, “For the love of – would you just get out of here already?”

 

Leon desperately wanted to leave himself. He refused to meet Claire’s eyes as he grabbed his items and shuffled after Dan outside. He prayed that she didn’t also think he was giving an impression of being anything other than genuinely friendly. Claire was very cool and very pretty, and nobody with half a brain could deny that. Leon certainly wasn’t. He just did not want to be in another relationship for a long time, and he definitely didn’t do casual flings.

 

The night was cool and crisp on his skin. How much of that was due to the clean mountain air, Leon wasn’t sure, but he enjoyed how refreshing it was as he inhaled deeply. “Drive home safe, kid,” said Dan once he reached his own car. “You’ll be fine come tomorrow.”

 

“Thanks.” And he meant it.

 

Dan gave him a pat on the shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it then,” he said before sliding inside. He’d just shut the door when he suddenly popped his head out of the window and spoke low, “I’d appreciate you keeping my being here tonight hush-hush. I’m not supposed to… Al and I are close – real close – and I just… I had to make sure he was safe.” Dan shifted a little, looking the most awkward he’d seemed all night, before clearing his throat. “I mean, a guy like him gets scared over everything, you know?”

 

Leon felt he understood, but he couldn’t be totally sure. He went with the safest response. “Sure, I get it. You’re friends.”

 

Dan frowned slightly for a moment before nodding, a little hesitantly. “Yeah. Real good friends.” He put the car in gear and proceeded to reverse. “Call if you need a favour, okay? I’ll see you around maybe.”

 

Leon waved and called out a ‘drive safe!’ before walking to his own Jeep. He felt a bit like a live wire – surged with energy but about to fizzle out any minute. He still had another while to go and then he still had to actually find his apartment. He groaned as he dumped the brown paper bag on the floor of the backseat, imagining how tired he was going to be tomorrow. Just what he needed when there was some evil serial killer loose, and knowing his luck he wouldn’t be surprised if he met them first thing in the morning.

 

“Hey.”

 

He startled and promptly banged his head on the roof with an embarrassing ‘oof!’.

 

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to scare you there!”

 

God, to make matters worse this very cool girl whose brother was in freaking STARS probably thought he was dumb cop who had a shit stance, needed to be escorted to his car, and got startled by literally anything.

 

“I’m okay,” he groaned, but his head-clutching was most definitely not fooling anybody.

 

“Here,” Claire said gently, holding the open bag of Skittles to him. “Just wanted to offer a few for the road ahead.”

 

He rubbed his head and forced a smile. “Thanks,” he held open his hand. “Tonight has not been my night, I guess.”

 

“Sure seems that way,” she dumped a third of the bag into his palm. “I suppose we’re even now – you blinded me and I gave you a concussion.”

 

“I thought the Skittles made us even,” he picked out the purple ones straightaway. They’d always been his favourite.

 

“Well, I guess you’re just up a favour now.” 

 

Leon would’ve normally replied with something somewhat cool like ‘how can I cash this in exactly?’ or something along those lines, but now he wasn’t sure where he stood with Claire. He wanted to be friends, but he never liked anyone to think he was leading them on and promising something more intimate. 

 

Lisa used to tell him he had a habit of ‘sending out the wrong signal’, back when he told her how Kaya screamed at him as much after she’d drunkenly kissed him and he’d had to gently let her down. According to Lisa, it was apparently quite reasonable for a girl to think a guy was flirting if he made a fun conversation. Even if he was dating her former roommate it still counted as 'stringing her along'. Leon kept his distance from a lot of their female friends after that; it was much easier than arguing. Besides, getting slapped across the face by a drunken college girl at two in the morning was something he was probably going to have to experience a few times in his line of work, he definitely didn't want to have to put up with it in his limited free time.

 

“So, since you’re new to the city, maybe I can show you around? You know, where to shop for food, clothes, and all that. Then we can really call it even.”

 

He hesitated a moment. “Sure,” he said, and he kept his tone very measured, “it’d be nice to have a friend in the city.”

 

Claire didn’t look disappointed or sad or angry, as Leon had feared. She instead brightened even more before checking her pockets. “Yeah! I know how much it sucks moving to a new place and not knowing where anything is.” She fished out a ballpoint pen and small notebook before jotting something down and tearing out the page. “Here’s my number, since I’m guessing you haven’t set one up yet.”

 

“No, I haven’t,” he folded up the paper into his wallet. “I can’t even remember if the place comes with a phone already.” Just another thing to add to the list.

 

“Right, well, I’m gonna head off then,” Claire said, jabbing her thumb at her shiny bike. “I’ll see you sometime maybe?”

 

Leon couldn’t help himself but grin. He felt good about this. “Definitely.”

 

“Drive safe!”

 

“You too!” he called out before climbing into the warmth of his own Jeep. He took his time getting settled into the driver’s seat, watching her ride out onto the open road with a final wave. Wearily, he buckled himself in and was soon following suit into the inky darkness once more.

 

Leon sighed bone-deep, realising his journey was only just beginning.

 

Hopefully the nights in Raccoon City weren’t all as daunting as this.

Chapter 3

Leon remembered receiving his very last badge from Scouts rather vividly. For excellence in organisational skills, timekeeping, and planning he had been awarded with a merit. In personal management. He had to fight very hard not to laugh out loud and look like a complete madman in the middle of rush hour because, Jesus Christ, the sheer irony. 

 

He’d been delayed by over an hour and a half in getting to his apartment thanks to the gas station incident as well as the fact that he was totally unfamiliar with Raccoon City’s streets in the dark of the night. He’d forgotten to screw the water bottle in his overnight bag properly resulting in not only his bedsheets getting completely soaked but also somehow, quite miraculously even, tomorrow’s change of clothes too. How there was that much water in the bottle was something he’d spent thirty minutes trying to work out as he went through box after box trying to find replacements. He ended up falling asleep around two in the morning, knowing full well that he was better off showering then and there rather than trying to wake up earlier. 

He remembered to set his alarm for six, but completely forgot there were no batteries in his alarm; the broken clock had been right at the wrong time.

 

And he’d been planning on getting breakfast the night before. Breakfast. Yesterday’s Leon was a poor stupid dumb moron who had clearly left his brain back home in New York. The Leon of today knew he wasn’t going to eat anything substantial until lunchtime even if he had a chance, as riled up as he was.

 

He could probably make it. Maybe. Probably just five minutes late. Ten minutes tops. If only the stupid traffic wasn’t so. Damn. Slow. 

 

After what felt like hours Leon finally had an opening. He managed to squeeze his Jeep through and after maybe going a tad too fast he arrived at long last: the Raccoon City Police Department stood within his sights. He sighed in relief as he turned down the decline into the parking lot which was thankfully open in the mornings. He reminded himself to ask for his staff ticket as he parked in a visitor space – he’d never want to get stuck down here at night.

 

Checking his wristwatch after locking the door he saw he still had about a minute to spare thankfully. He could definitely make it. That is… if he knew which way to go. Looking around he saw a few doors behind all the cars and station wagons, but he wasn’t sure which way led to the West Office.

 

He really didn’t want to waste time wandering around the place…

 

With a heavy sigh he figured his best bet was to just walk all the way back up and go in through the main entrance. It was probably better to be safe than sorry. 

 

“Hey, over here!”

 

Startled, Leon looked behind him; a man around his own age sporting an RPD uniform was waving at him as he jogged over. “Kennedy, right?” he panted.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I saw you pull in - on the system - rushed on down. Ah God!” He took a moment to catch his breath, rubbing his chest and sucking in a few deep breaths. Leon felt for the guy really, as his breathing finally began to even out. “ Wow , I gotta work on my cardio.” 

 

And Leon didn’t quite mean to laugh, let alone out loud, but thankfully the man seemed to take it in stride. If anything he perked right up and was practically beaming .

 

“I wanted to meet you before boss man gets to you first!” He stuck out his hand, “nice to meet you, bud!”

 

Leon shook his hand. “Likewise, officer.”

 

The man guffawed. “Officer? Wow, I’m flattered! You that polite with everyone, bud?”

 

It was hard not to laugh along. This guy was funny even if he was teasing him. “It’s not like you gave me your name.”

 

“Oh man, I’m such a spaz ,” he said in an overly-dramatic way that Leon had only ever heard in crappy dramas from his teens. “I’m Kevin. Kevin Rymer. I’m your partner down here.”

 

“Uh, speaking of down here, you know how I can get up there? I’m supposed to meet with the Lieutenant for induction.”

 

Shock overcame Kevin and he facepalmed. “Oh shit, I forgot!”

 

It was really hard not to laugh around this Kevin guy. Leon was glad his partner seemed like a good guy. Taylor was apparently stuck with a real dick over in Chesapeake. 

 

Poor Taylor. Leon should really call him when he gets his phone sorted.

 

“I’ll take you up there, Leon, no problem just follow me,” said Kevin as he led the way through one of the doors. “Say, by the way what’s the deal with your name?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Like, is Leon short for Leonardo or something, but the kids made fun of you for it so you switched to Leon?”

 

That was… oddly well-thought out. “No, I’m just plain old Leon. My parents liked the name, that’s all.”

 

Kevin nodded absently as he led him through the winding halls. “Right right. I was just reading about that hot new actor who thought about changing his name – think it was to Lenny or Len or something – because people in Hollywood made fun of it.”

 

Leon was pretty sure that wasn’t true. Lisa had been pretty into Titanic and would have definitely shared her outrage with him over something like that. She cried for the entire ride home after they left the theatre while she blamed Rose for letting the object of her affections die a cold watery death. Then that song came on over the radio and she started absolutely sobbing as Leon had scrambled to turn it off. It was kind of cute, how Lisa got super into stuff like that. Even if Leon had to bite his tongue when he’d wanted to argue that Jack could have found some other debris to survive. But hey, maybe that had been the survivalist from Scouts thinking – you’re only as good as your resourcefulness.

 

“Do you go by Leo by any chance?”

 

What the hell were these questions? “No, I don’t. What would be the point?”

 

Kevin shrugged. “It would be shorter.”

 

“It’s the same number of syllables.”

 

“Really? Hmm, guess you’re right there.”

 

Leon tried not to roll his eyes. Maybe Kevin was a little too easy-going. Hopefully he was a better cop than he was a conversationalist. Next he was going to ask him if his hair was styled after the guy. Which it wasn’t because Leon totally had that look before it was cool.

 

“I don’t mind you calling me Kev by the way.”

 

“Sure.” He wasn’t going to do that. “You sure you’re taking me to the West Office? This place is such a maze.”

 

“Yeah, I know, I got lost here so many times when I first started – I’ll be sure to get you a map or something.”

 

Leon groaned. “That bad, huh?”

 

“Uh huh. This place did used to be a museum, you know.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, it’s kind of cool actually in that whole Indiana Jones kind of way. Rumour has it there’s a bunch of secret passages in here and everything apparently.”

 

That did sound cool. Maybe if one of the night shifts was a little dull he could try exploring for some clues. He wasn’t sure why a museum needed a secret passage in the first place, but it would be fun to see if he could find anything interesting.

 

“Ah ha, here we are!” announced Kevin, turning around and spreading his arms to show off what Leon could guess was the main reception hall, though the term grand foyer would have done more justice with how incredibly gorgeous and opulent it was with its shiny marble floor and mahogany furnishings. “Pretty swanky, right? How many police stations do you know have a huge statue right in the entrance?”

 

“None as far as I’m aware.”

 

Kevin grinned before continuing on. “West Office is right this way,” he said as he fiddled with his belt. “You’ll need to get yourself a set of keys, otherwise you’ll have to go all the way around just to get anywhere, and trust me when I say that’s not fun .”

 

 “I can imagine, considering the size of the place.”

 

“What’s worse is getting yelled at for losing your keys,” said Kevin as he finally picked out the one he wanted: a key with a blue spade handle. “I’m still recovering from the mental trauma.”

 

Leon laughed. “Are you trying to haze the new guy or something?”

 

He faltered slightly as he worked the key - just for a moment but Leon caught it all the same. “You’ll do fine.” The big grin wasn’t there anymore, but he’d settled into something softer, more akin to optimism. “You seem like a guy who’s got his head on straight anyway.” He jabbed a thumb at the door, “ready to go in?”

 

He gave a thumbs up. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

The door was unlocked and Kevin rapped on the frosted glass three times before slowly pushing it open. “Meet the team!”

 

Leon stepped inside the office and was met with a huge chorus of welcomes as his new co-workers stood below the balcony bunched together, a few of them bursting bags of party confetti as others blew on party horns. One of them, a woman, held a Star Wars -inspired cake with the words ‘Welcome to the Force!’ written in blue icing.

 

“Now, I know it’s not much, but we did wanna get you as comfortable as possible right away so we put together this little welcome party for you!”

 

Even though he could tell the banner above the set of desks behind the crowd had clearly originally misspelt ‘welcome’ with two ‘l’s given the large gap between the ‘l’ and the ‘c’ and he could just spot an extra letter underneath some stationary on a desk, it was obvious that lot of thought had gone into this. Maybe because he’d spent his life so far in New York he wasn’t used to this Midwestern hospitality, but he was honestly touched; he didn’t know people could be this friendly anywhere. 

 

“It’s awesome, thanks so much!”

 

Kevin positively beamed as he led them down the few stairs. “Leon, this is the gang you’re gonna be seeing the most of around here. This is Rita and that’s – oh fuck , sorry I’m not supposed to tell you that yet! You gotta figure out their names by yourself through the ‘ power of conversation’ ,” he added with air quotations. “Consider Rita a freebie or something – no offence, Rita! Guys, this is Leon, the new cop from New York.”

 

“Oh really? I didn’t know that. I got this cake for Leon who’s meant to be joining today from Seattle ,” a lady – Rita – snarked. “I guess I should just dump this in the trash then.”

 

“You should be glad I gave you her name as a freebie, man,” Kevin muttered.

 

Sensing the animosity Leon took the initiative to steer the conversation back to introductions. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

 

“Ma’am?” she shook her head, disbelievingly, “Kevin, I swear to God if I find out you ruined this one’s gentlemanliness with your slobby manners I’ll never forgive you.”

 

Everyone barked in laughter, save for Kevin who tried to defend himself by reminding everyone that plenty of women loved his rough boyish charm. “I’m serious, they can’t get enough of me!”

 

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s a fact we can count on - just like Y2K.”

 

“I never said we should count on Y2K, I just said we should take some precautions just in case!”

 

“Kev, for the last time that was a pyramid scheme.”

 

“You don’t have to rub it in, Neil! I learned my lesson already – oh shit , fuck, Leon, pretend you didn’t hear that.”

 

Leon decided to play along. “His name or your shady financial investments?”

 

The room burst into laughter and Leon felt warm, pleased they seemed to enjoy his presence and accept him into the fold so easily. “Oh man, I like this guy!” said Neil, wiping his eyes.

 

 “Why do you get him when I’m stuck with grouchy old George?”

 

“Lay off, Rita.”

 

“Don’t ‘lay off, Rita’ me, George. We all know how much you relish your role as the crabby old bastard.”

 

“Well, now,” a new voice said from behind the crowd, “isn’t this a wholesome get-together?”

 

Rita, George, Neil, Kevin – all of them jumped a little before they spun round to face the two men who were entering via the back door, sipping mugs of what Leon could smell was blessed, divine, holy coffee. 

 

“Come on, now,” said the owner of the voice, a tall African-American man, in between sips, “don’t stop setting a bad example in front of the new guy just on my account.”

 

Rita had the decency to look thoroughly chastened. “Sorry, Lieutenant.”

 

“I take it that the game’s a bust now?”

 

“Sorry, we got a little carried away there.”

 

“Seems to be the case in more ways than one,” the white officer next to the lieutenant commented as he gave a pointed look at the confetti-covered floor, scuffing up a few pieces with his foot. “I hope one of you is planning on cleaning this up.”

 

“I’m sorry it was just that David wanted to go all out-“

 

“It was your idea, Kevin, don’t throw me under the bus like that.”

 

“Then why are you holding the confetti bags?”

 

“ You’re the one who gave them to me this morning!”

 

“Both of you shut up ,” and Leon could immediately tell by the way the two straightened up that the officer next to the lieutenant was a man of leadership himself. “You’re both cleaning this up; one of you holds the brush, the other holds the dustpan. Does that sound fair?”

 

The lieutenant sighed like he’d heard this carry-on every single day. “I hope you’re still fixed on staying here, Officer Kennedy, and that these idiots haven’t scared you off.”

 

“No, sir, I’m in this for the long run.”

 

“Well that’s good.” He extended his hand, “Marvin Branagh. I think we may have spoken on the phone once before, right?”

 

“Leon Kennedy,” he replied, taking his hand. “It’s great to meet you, sir. And yes, we did.”

 

“This is Officer Elliot Edwards,” said Marvin as the man next to him moved to shake Leon’s hand. “When I’m not around you should assume he’s in charge.”

 

Elliot gave a curt nod. “Good to have you onboard, Kennedy.”

 

Man of few words then. Leon could work with that, especially with a senior colleague. Elliot seemed like the bad cop to Marvin’s good one; as long as Leon kept his nose clean they wouldn’t have any problems.

 

“I’m guessing that you’ve gotten a chance to hear everyone’s names by now,” Marvin said with a pointed glare at the rest of the crowd, “so let’s see how much you picked up on.”

 

Leon pointed them out easily enough. “Kevin, David, Rita, George, and Neil, right?”

 

Kevin let out a low whistle. “He’s fast.”

 

“I told you we were getting a good one,” said Marvin. “Leon here graduated with damn near perfect scores from the Academy. We’re lucky to have snapped him up before anyone else.”

 

A chorus of ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s hummed throughout the room, much to Leon’s embarrassment. 

 

“Oh my God, Leon , why didn’t you tell me you were such a nerd?!”

 

“He’s so baby-faced though,” said George. “Can’t believe the guy graduated at all.”

 

Leon… wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to take that. Most cops just went straight from high school into the force, and they sure as hell didn’t have the experience he did beforehand. Twenty-one wasn’t exactly old for a rookie like him, but it was probably older than most of these guys were when they joined.

 

“I’m sorry that a guy can be both smart and cute, George,” scoffed Rita, and Leon was definitely sure his face was turning a little red by now.

 

“Meant no offence. Just hope that means he’ll be a good one for us,” he said matter-of-fact before he plonked himself down at his desk.

 

“Good ol’ George with that Midwestern charm,” she said sarcastically.

 

“Regardless of how he looks he’s part of the team, so show him some respect,” Marvin said firmly.  

 

“Right. Sorry.” It was half-hearted at best, but Leon wasn’t about to call anyone out on his first day. He supposed he couldn’t really blame him. He’d heard others voice similar concerns before when he was in the Academy; he looked too young, too nice, too soft to be perceived as someone with any kind of authority. He supposed he would just have to work hard to prove he was a serious officer, to prove he was just as good in practice as he was on paper.

 

“Why don’t we cut up the cake and get back to work, hmm?” Elliot suggested as he picked up a file from his desk and went back to sipping his coffee. 

 

Rita set the cake down and hurried over to the corner to retrieve the paper plates. 

 

“Sorry we don’t have any candles,” said Neil, as he handed Leon the knife. “They were recently deemed a fire hazard.”

 

“You can thank Kevin for that one too,” snarked David.

 

“Oh, screw you, Dave. You were totally onboard with me for that one.”

 

Neil rolled his eyes. “Word of advice, Leon, whatever Kev suggests just do the opposite.”

 

“Duly noted,” said Leon, with a slight smirk as he began cutting squares out of the cake. “So if he says he wants cake…?”

 

“You give him a piece because otherwise he won’t shut up,” finished Rita, back with the plates and forks.

 

“Why is everyone dunking on me today?!”

 

Marvin exhaled wearily into his coffee, seemingly already tired from the morning and it couldn’t have been much later than half past the hour. “Do you want cake or not?” 

 

He huffed, arms crossed sullenly. “... Please.”

 

Leon resolved to give him an extra large piece for his troubles.

Chapter 4

“I don’t get it.”

 

“What’s not to get?”

 

“It’s a unicorn.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I mean, why?” A giant flag-bearing woman, a lion, and a unicorn. Did the curator have a massive hard-on for the British Empire or did the collection allude to a weird fetish? And Leon just knew he was never going to be able to not ponder over that question every time he walked by one of them. And again he found himself wondering why these were all here and not in a museum or a private collection by now. Surely they would serve a better purpose anywhere but a police station - at least they could generate some measure of income for the city if they were sold or on display somewhere. It wasn’t as though tourists would stop by the RPD or criminals were going to appreciate fancy marble statues when being processed for jail.

 

Marvin shrugged. “It’s just what was left over. There’s probably some more info about the pieces up in the attic.”

 

“Attic?”

 

“Where the other woman statue is. They never did get rid of the curator’s notes after they bought the place back in the day. They just shifted it all around the place. Sometimes when I can’t think of a way to punish someone I just have them sort through the crap up there for a few hours.”

 

That someone was probably Kevin, Leon guessed. He shuddered slightly at the thought – rifling through gross mouldy boxes over thirty years old was not something he ever wanted to try. And though he hadn’t needed to use an inhaler since he was seven Leon was always careful to keep away from dust as much as possible.

 

“You know, I have a love-hate relationship with it myself,” said Marvin, gesturing to the unicorn.

 

“Why’s that, sir?”

 

A small smile tugged on a corner of his mouth, as though the action itself was somewhat illegal. “My kids like to play with it when they come visit. It’s cute and the photos take up half our album, but man do I hate having to pull them off when they climb up to ‘ride the horsey’.”

 

That was a sweet image, a bunch of mini-Marvins play-acting with a marble unicorn going on all kinds of imaginary adventures while their father worked late. He was sure they would much prefer it to hanging around the library for hours on end, especially as it completely lacked a children’s section. Maybe that was something he could even take the lead on, since he was sure some kids would be bored out of their mind sitting around all day. The TV in the waiting room was permanently set to the news (which was probably the last thing anyone would want to watch in a police station), and although there was a VHS player Leon felt he’d have better luck getting donated books than expensive video tapes from the Disney vault. 

 

“How many have you got, Lieutenant?”

 

“Just the two, a boy and a girl. Nine and four-years-old.”

 

Marvin added, “I got into fatherhood pretty young. Part of the reason I went into policing. Good benefits and such.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

“That’s why I’m so accomplished at such a young age,” he said bemusedly as he led them out and along the balcony overlooking the foyer (Leon refused to call it a reception in his mind; it was far too nice for such an ordinary name). “Good family, good job, good home. What more could a man want?”

 

He felt a brief pang in his own chest and, embarrassingly, stumbled slightly on the next step.  “Get a grip ,” he told himself. Thankfully, Marvin didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care to call attention to his misstep.

 

“Well if you ever want to see what it’s like for the true adrenaline junkies you’ll wanna check out STARS. Their office is just down this way.”

 

Leon tried to play it cool, as though his heart hadn’t sped up at the mere mention of the group, “I’ve heard they’re a pretty big deal.”

 

“Yeah, they mostly deal with stuff up in the mountains.” He smiled wryly at Leon, “Basically glorified park rangers if you ask me, but don’t tell them that.”

 

Leon snorted before holding up his hands. “Between you, me, and the gatepost.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re great at what they do. I just think the Chief favours them just a tad too much. They get more amenities, more resources, more pay . I’ve asked for funding to overhaul the shoddy security system down in the cellblock for years and we still have to use shitty batteries of all things. Any idiot can think of at least a dozen reasons why that should be the first priority for our budget, but apparently there’s never even enough left over so that the main police station in a metropolitan area can install a functional modern cellblock. Meanwhile STARS could ask for a tank and they’d write that off no questions asked.”

 

“Do STARS not share main police facilities?”

 

“It’s not like they can’t but it’s not really called for most of the time. Glorified park rangers, remember? They’re supposed to deal with tactical missions like terror attacks, but I don’t remember the last time something like that cropped up in these parts other than that one anti-biowarfare group way back when STARS started out. You might have heard about it.”

 

Leon nodded, but then realised Marvin probably couldn’t see him. “Yes,” he said, recalling the eighteen-hour stand-off at Umbrella HQ televised all day non-stop. “I remember that’s how I first heard of STARS.” 

 

“You and the whole nation. They had one good operation - a great one for all intents and purposes, no denying that - and they’re an overnight sensation given all the concessions they could ever ask for.” He scoffed, “Wish it was that way for the rest of us. But nobody cares about the person who stops a man from slitting his wife’s throat because she flushed his drugs down the toilet, or the one who talks a kid down from jumping because they’ve been pushed too far. It just doesn’t sell the same way as a special forces group that singlehandedly stopped a domestic terror group with no hostage casualties. Honestly, they tend to keep to themselves mostly until they chopper off to the mountains. We’re left with the scraps.”

 

“Right.” Leon felt disappointment creep up on him; at the end of the day he had applied to RPD for the chance to learn from STARS, and he’d been secretly hoping to one day join their ranks when he felt ready to move on from policing. But if there’s one thing he hates it’s self-absorbed pompous assholes. Bullies. Those who only know how to take and leave nothing - there were far too many of those in the Academy. Leon had called it out whenever he saw it, he’d been hopeful that they’d straighten up and fly right once they got out there with the proper guidance. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to dealing with anything of that sort during his actual career.

 

Some of his trepidation must have leaked into his tone because Marvin turned his way when they reached the door with the plaque labelled ‘STARS Office’. “They’re fine . Most of them are nice people. I’m just whining. Kids are rubbing off on me. You’ll get it when you get your own,” he said wryly before knocking twice and entering. 

 

Not that anybody looked up. The office was a flurry of activity; a man on the phone jotting down notes, handing them to a woman charting coordinates on a wall-mounted map, another man adding extra details to the notes before passing them over to another woman who was checking a medical kit – suddenly Leon felt silly. He didn’t care what Marvin said: there was a stark contrast between the slow-paced easy-going cops downstairs and the non-stop motion of the STARS squad up here.

 

“Woah, sorry, man,” said a voice behind him and Leon quickly side-stepped while another man rushed past carrying bags of equipment packs. “We’re in the air in ten! Gonna be a big one so let’s mosey Bravo and Alpha! Aiken, Chambers, Burton…”

 

“Hey, Leon, get in here,” Marvin called out from the side office next to him, ushering Leon inside. “Meet the man himself, Albert Wesker. Wesker, meet our newest, Leon S. Kennedy.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Officer Kennedy.”

 

Albert Wesker was a man Leon had seen only once before. It was back when he was still attending college, before he entered the Academy; his mother's insistence not his. Wesker had been invited to give a keynote lecture about teamwork in special operations units. There had been great talk amongst themselves beforehand, and yet he had completely surpassed their expectations. It didn’t even matter that he was wearing sunglasses indoors in the New York winter - he’d even entertained a jibe about being hungover in the line of duty. “I’d hardly conflate lecturing a group of half-asleep young adults at nine in the morning with suppressing terrorism,” he had said in his slightly transatlantic accent, sounding bemused rather than offended as everyone had thought he would be. “But if I were, I’d wager turning up hungover would allow for successful infiltration of your kind of brotherhood of keg-stands and beer pong. I would simply dismantle it from within and you would be none the wiser. While I made off with the beer, of course.” 

 

On that stage he had seemed so otherworldly; eloquent, confident, and inspirational. Leon had never seen someone so magnetic. For the entire two hours the room was silent, utterly captivated by this man.

 

And here he was in his natural state, still exuding the same powerful aura. 

 

“It’s, uh, very nice to meet you too, sir,” he replied, shaking his hand firmly. God, why could he not stop tripping up over himself? In front of the Albert Wesker of all people.

 

“Leon’s one of the brightest recruits we’ve ever had at RPD,” said Marvin proudly, thankfully not seeming to have noticed Leon’s nervousness. “And he’s got the scores to prove it.”

 

Wesker perked his brows from behind those same sunglasses. “Oh really? Perhaps then he would prefer to submit an application for STARS instead?”

 

“Hey, I’m just giving him a tour of the place, not putting him up to be snapped up by STARS,” Marvin said good-naturedly, but his arms were crossed and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t make me regret introducing you.”

 

The corner of Wesker’s mouth upturned a smidge. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

“Being a cop is what I want to do more than anything right now, Lieutenant, so you don’t have to worry about me stepping to the other side any time soon.”

 

Marvin clapped his back. “Attaboy.”

 

Wesker contemplated him for a few moments. It was slightly unnerving to be stared out by dark tinted lenses, his expression unreadable. Leon tried not to fidget. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you, is it?”

 

“No, you gave me a lecture once, sir.”

 

He hummed thoughtfully. “I remember you now. It’s no wonder you graduated with such laurels; you asked me some very intelligent questions.”

 

Leon was still reeling at the fact that Albert Wesker of all people remembered him – and for good reasons too – when the man previously on the phone now fully dressed for action suddenly rapped on the frame behind him. “Hey, Wesker, we’re ready for take-off now!”

 

Wesker waved, contrasting the man’s urgency as though the world only moved when he allowed it. “A moment, Redfield.”

 

The man – Redfield – nodded quickly before rushing out the door with the rest of the team. 

 

Wesker stood slowly before again shaking Leon’s hand. “I do hope you will enjoy your time here, Officer Kennedy. I am sure you will flourish under Lieutenant Brannagh’s capable guidance, but should you require anything my office has an open-door policy.”

 

“Wow, that’s… wow.” How could anyone be this awesome and this down-to-earth? It just didn’t seem real to Leon. “I mean, uh, thanks, that's very kind of you, sir. Thank you very much.”

 

Wesker shot him a bemused smile, before grabbing a bag next to his seat that seemed to be pre-packed with his STARS gear. “Goodbye then, Officer Kennedy,” he briefly shook Marvin’s hand, “Lieutenant Brannagh. Take care of the place while I’m gone,” he said before walking out the door.

 

“In all my years working here,” said Marvin after a few moments, “I’ve never seen him be that nice to someone when he meets them.”

 

“Yeah, he seems to be quite,” tenacious, determined, relentless, everything Leon wanted to be but wasn’t , “focused, for sure. But technically it wasn’t the first time we met so I guess I had the advantage.”

 

“He remembered you from a lecture series he did around the country two years ago .” Marvin snorted. “You’re gonna do great things, Leon. I can feel it.”

 

He hoped so. “Thanks.”

 

“But before you get out there to spread your wings,” Marvin took him by the shoulder, “we’re gonna need to get you a uniform.”

Chapter 5

Notes:

C/W: period-typical attitudes, some toxic masculinity/gaslighting behaviours, misogynistic jokes, one mild instance of homophobic stereotyping

(If there any others I should include or any updates to the tags you think are warranted please let me know)

Sorry this chapter is quite long - it didn't make sense to cut it anywhere.

There was far too much starch in the shirt. 

 

He could hardly move without the stiff material digging into his flesh, and he could scarcely draw breath without the collar choking it out of him. Sticky sweat clung to his skin, glueing the fabric to his body like a second layer; the heat of the sweltering sun not tempered in the least despite the air conditioning of the patrol car turned up to full blast. Leon valiantly fought the urge to untuck his shirt and loosen a few of the buttons. Jesus, he couldn’t breathe! And all he was doing was sitting in a car - in the passenger’s seat. How could he be expected to protect and serve when he could barely think past how horribly uncomfortable he was?!

 

“So up here we’ve got one of the more fancy districts of our fair city,” Kevin said, continuing on with his grand tour of Raccoon City and all its iconic locations: Kendo’s who supplied arms supplier to RPD and STARS, the city hall in downtown and the mayor’s office, and of course Umbrella HQ. 

 

Leon had initially appreciated his enthusiasm (especially since he had first taken them out to get burritos at an all-day breakfast place, and Leon was a firm believer in breakfast supremacy regardless of the fact it was practically lunchtime). Now, however, it was wasted on him. Although Leon didn’t feel too bad for missing out when the majority of the outing was spent highlighting places of interest that had decidedly very little to do with police work. 

 

“There’s one really bomb club up here, Peacocks , which’s a little on the pricey side, but the chicks are so worth it.”

 

Case in point. An almost worryingly common theme was where to get blackout drunk for the cheapest price or where to find the prettiest girls on the market. Or both, when facilitated. 

 

“Well, I mean they’re hot and have money to burn so you might get lucky and snag one who’ll wanna buy you all the rounds.” Leon was trying not to roll his eyes as he took a sip of water that had long since warmed up from the heat of the sun, cloyingly thick as it slid down his throat-

 

“But that’s pretty indicative that she’s got, y’know, daddy issues or something.” 

 

Just his luck as he promptly choked, water spluttering comically from his mouth and nose as all over his brand new uniform (sure to leave it even more uncomfortable somehow), tears blurring his vision the whole while as he fought to contain the sudden gush of laughter that had burst from his chest.

 

“Daddy issues that funny to you, man?” Kevin said good-naturedly, sounding more emboldened by Leon’s embarrassment. “I swear they’re all trying to burn through Daddy’s money as some kind of payback.” The asshole giggled as Leon struggled to catch his breath, coughing up the last of the water. Goddamn him he hadn’t laughed like that in weeks. 

 

“I don’t know, that’s their private business in my book. All I know is pickings can be slim around here for them and so it’s my duty to help them spend however much they want and provide the laughs and, y’know, get them off however they want.” He added in a rather salacious tone, “If that’s what they want of course, I’m not like a creep or anything, but sometimes they need a little help with the whole admitting that’s what they want.”

 

That gave Leon pause. “This coming from the guy who’s described a whole MO for every spot in town?” he finally remarked, half-lightly-half-sternly. “Yeah, nothing creepy about that at all .”

 

“Alright, point taken. In all seriousness I do try to be mindful of the ladies,” Kevin said, and Leon was just feeling his chest starting to unknot itself until Kevin continued lewdly, “After all, nothing's fun about having a drunk girl throw up all over you, am I right? Not worth it at all.”

 

And before he knew it Leon found himself replying, “But more importantly she can’t actually consent like that.”  

 

“Are you implying something, man?” Kevin snapped, so suddenly that Leon was struck dumb. “Yes, Leon. Jesus. No, I don’t assault women. Is that good enough for you? I meant more like some of them can be kind of shy and are a little embarrassed asking random guys for a hookup. I’m making a shitty joke I’m not - God, I really hope I didn’t do something that made you think I’m that kind of guy. I might like going out but that doesn’t mean-” 

 

He huffed. “Look, I just didn’t want you to be left out of the loop, okay? These are the spots we often hangout at, so I just thought we’d-” He huffed again, more exasperated than angry now. “Forget it. It’s not your thing, I guess. Anyway we’ve basically seen everything so we’d better head back.”

 

An awkward pause.

 

Leon had never liked them. As he stewed in his seat, coldness burrowed under his skin despite the sun still beating down hard upon him, and a deep pit raged in his core as the embarrassment settled. God, how could he have messed it up already? He’d only met the man a few hours ago and yet he was judging him so harshly, lecturing him when he was his senior . Kevin might be a bit of an airhead but where the Hell did Leon get off on making such horrible insinuations, especially about a fellow officer of the law? Of course he would care about consent. It was a joke. He couldn’t imagine Kevin hurting a fly (though somehow he could vividly imagine him shrieking at the mere sight of one). 

 

It was just guy talk - locker room stuff . Leon had never much cared for it, but he could let it roll off his back. It was all the same whether he was hanging out with his high school baseball team or his police squad, right? Men were men! And Kevin - he just liked to make people laugh and put them at ease, in that self-deprecating way of his. That was what he was doing with Leon, wasn’t it? And then Leon had to ruin it. 

 

He remembered something his supervisor told him in the Academy, ‘Off the record I’m gonna say it plainly. You’re great at the police work, son, but I’ve noticed you can afford to loosen up a little. Part of the job is being a good sport and bonding with the other boys and girls in the squad. You don’t have to like them all, Hell, you don’t even have to agree with them, and God knows there’s plenty of assholes in the uniform despite how hard I try to weed them out, and I appreciate your moral fibre when dealing with those ones. But being in the police means being a part of a second family. And you’re no good without their support. When you get out there you’ll realise what a tough world it is for a lone cop.’

 

“Where did she throw up on you?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“The girl. With the father issues.”

 

“Oh. Back seat of a car.”

 

“Hers?”

 

Kevin huffed. “Worse. Mine. ”

 

“Damn.”

 

“Yeah, smelt like vomit and vodka for weeks .”

 

“Classic combo. The new pine and oak for sure.”

 

Kevin snorted. “And you know what she said when we were getting in?” He put on his best falsetto. “ They’d go nuts if they caught me in one of these hunks of junks .” He shook his head.  “And then she practically dragged me inside before I could say as much as a ‘hey!’ in response. Not a good night.”

 

“It’s not so different in New York. They might be more left-leaning but rich people are still out of touch. Makes their hypocrisy all the more sad.”

 

Kevin hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, around here a lot of the people in this neighbourhood are tied in some way to Umbrella. So while they’re all gathered at fundraisers raising money for the good of mankind and going on about how much they love everyone that they devote themselves to that company twenty-four-seven, they’ll still spend their free time being shitty. Or at least their kids are. But apples don’t fall far from trees, y’know?”

 

“Yeah, I get you. We’ve got those types in New York too.”

 

“I mean Umbrella is basically the whole reason Raccoon City ever got to be as big as it is. It kept growing and growing and soon people started even moving here for jobs and from there it was like a snowball that couldn’t be stopped. Now we even have tourists and Hell, we even have cops coming in from New York City. It’s awesome, but I feel like some of the people there act like they personally put the clothes on our backs and the food on our tables. And look, I’m never gonna knock Umbrella. It’s for damn sure the best thing that ever happened to this place… but some of those guys are such assholes about it! Like, see that house right there, with the blue door?”

 

Leon craned his head towards a gorgeous red stone townhouse with large windows and an almost clinically curated verge looming over them, burying the car under its dark shadows.

 

“Yeah, I see it.”

 

“Biggest fucking assholes I’ve ever met. Granted this wasn’t even at a club or anything, ‘cause those guys are like twenty years older than me - and they say old people are nice! - but man, I remember meeting them at one of the Umbrella fundraisers down in city hall for the dying children, or was it orphans? Whatever, anyway they were so unbelievably shitty. Looking down at me like I wasn’t even human, y’know? And then when their car didn’t arrive guess who was stuck with driving them home? That’s right, this fucking guy. Off-duty!”

 

Leon winced in sympathy. “I take it you’re not a big fan of this area then?”

 

“Like I said there’s things to like for sure. Up here guys like us can feel like they’re hanging out with movie stars or something. Girls are gorgeous and even the average Joe gets a chance to get dressed up to the nines. For a couple of hours you can feel special, y’know? Exclusive even. But you’re made well aware when you’ve overstayed your welcome.” He scoffed. “I’m sure places like that in New York are a dime a dozen, right?”

 

“I mean yeah, if you’ve got the cash. I never bothered even trying. Pickings are definitely not slim over there. Even upstate where I lived some of the time, a guy could meet a girl pretty easily.”

 

Kevin hummed thoughtfully and Leon just knew he was screwed when he realised the man was far too quiet. He looked over and caught sight of his brow scrunched up as though he was visualising himself literally connecting the dots, and Leon could just picture the lightbulb shining obnoxiously above his head as a huge grin broke out on his face. “Oooh, Leon ,” he drawled, conspiratorially. “You have a girlfriend , don’t you? Split your time between living with her in the city and your folks’ place upstate, am I right?” 

 

“Well…” He hadn’t planned for damage control. He hadn’t even planned to tell anyone about it at all! But his silence was as good as an admission of guilt.

 

Kevin nodded sagely, “Now it all makes sense. Well, it was either that or you’re gay, especially since you’re from New York and you’ve got that whole sensitive thing going on - in a good way! - and like it’s the nineties so I’m totally cool with that and I’m not gonna out you unless you wanted me to break the ice with the guys at the station or something, but no need now! You have a girlfriend who you’re going steady with and you’re totally in love. You should see yourself, it’s practically written all over your face!”

 

Leon felt his face heat up. And it definitely wasn’t from the God awful uniform or the heat of the afternoon. “Had.”

 

“What?”

 

“I had a girlfriend,” he said a bit louder. Firmer. “We broke up when I got the job here.”

 

“I’m so sorry, man.” And bless him, he truly did sound downtrodden, like he was the one with the broken relationship and not Leon. “Long-distance sucks .” He shakes his head. “If I know women-”

 

Leon felt that may still be a slight stretch of the imagination.

 

“I know she’s definitely crying her heart out over you right now. Probably has been ever since you gave it to her straight and told her it was a waste of both of your time to continue when you’d only get to see each other once every few months. Better that you ripped the band-aid off then and there rather than tying yourself to a half-relationship.”

 

Oh God did that give him a sucker punch of déjà vu. 

 

“How badly did she take it? That’ll give us a good indication of how she’s getting on now.”

 

Leon resolutely kept his line of sight out the window. “It was actually her idea to, you know, end it.”

 

Kevin let out a low whistle. “Well fuck. Shit. Christ. ”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You know what? Screw her. She couldn’t even give it a chance? Really? She just ended it without even trying to make it work? Those girls watch all those lame-ass chick flicks and get all sappy but they can be so cold-hearted when it suits them. I thought ‘love finds a way’ and all that!”

 

What a guy. To go from insulted to indignant in barely a few minutes, batting for Leon when he’d just been so rude to the man. Leon decided to indulge him, he owed him a good laugh at least. “She loved Titanic .”

 

“Oh, of fucking course. Typical! Bet she cried real good at the end going all, ‘I’ll never let you go, Jake!’ ”

 

“Jack.”

 

“And then she turns around and lets you go. Drops you like you’re nothing? Like you’re trash?!”

 

That seemed a little too harsh of an assessment. He’d certainly felt like trash in his darker moments since then, but he was sure that was more a reflection on him rather than Lisa. They’d loved each other. Some of the best moments of his life were spent with her; he wasn’t going to ruin her memory and colour over it with his heartache. 

 

“A guy like you? With your good looks and fancy haircut? And that whole America’s sweetheart thing you got going on?” He sighed dramatically. “If a guy like you can’t keep his girl, then there’s truly no hope for the rest of us. We’re fucked.”

 

Leon snorted. He knew Kevin was being purposefully extra for his sake, but his sincerity was touching nonetheless. 

 

“I’m serious! We might as well give up and become… like, mole people or something!”

 

“She had her reasons.” Explained them very well as a matter of fact. Even if Leon couldn’t understand he certainly saw that she felt very strongly about her points. “It was a good run.”

 

“How long were you guys…?”

 

“About two years.”

 

He hissed. “Damn.”

 

Leon said nothing. He’d never before told someone outside of their circle about it. He realised he didn’t know how he should feel about it, being so raw and exposed to a practical stranger. How they viewed it from only his perspective.

 

“Alright.” Determined, he announced, “First order of business for the weekend is to get you laid.”

 

“While I appreciate your… enthusiasm ,” as well as the fact his water bottle was blessedly empty, “I’m not interested.”

 

“Oh come on! How are you gonna get over her if you don’t try swimming with the other fishes?”

 

Leon rolled his eyes. “You and I have very different ways of getting over people.”

 

“Don’t knock it till you try it, man. Girls would throw themselves at someone like you.”

 

If only he knew that the stuff of middle schoolers’ dreams is an adult’s nightmare. If Kevin thought a girl just throwing up on him was bad, he should try dealing with their drunken love confessions that would somehow end with vomit all over him and a stinging cheek for his troubles. 

 

“Hell, I would offer to wingman for you but come on! I don’t even know what you’re doing here, a guy like you should be like a model or something. Or in movies. You would make a killing doing rom-coms - not that I’m coming onto you or anything, I just call it how I see it. Like that British guy with the fancy accent, Howie Grint or whatever. All the girls love that kind of guy nowadays.”

 

“While I’m very flattered,” said Leon, feeling more embarrassed than he ever thought he would be in a single day in his adult life, “I should let you know that I only did one school play. I had exactly one line and messed it up spectacularly. And then I passed out on stage. I think you’ll find I’m a terrible actor. But thanks for the compliment.”

 

Kevin howled with laughter. “Oh my God and here I was thinking you were so perfect!”

 

“Far from it. Can’t do acting, can’t do flings.”

 

“But you at least tried acting. You never tried flings, right? You don’t like the girl, it's all good and you can never see them again. You like them and you can always call them. It’s low risk, there’s no pressure!”

 

“Tell you what, if I decide to go that route you’ll be the first person I’ll call, okay?”

 

He gave him a mock salute, “Just call me Kevin Ryman, consultant in all matters of the heart.”

 

“What about you? Special someone in your life?”

 

“Nah, man. I fly solo. Maybe someday I’ll meet someone I like, but I can’t remember the last time I went steady. Maybe high school? It’s mutual casual hook-ups for me right now.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

“Like I said, don’t knock it till you try it.”

 

“Wasn’t gonna.”

 

The silence was companionable. In all the talking Leon had forgotten the discomfort he’d been suffering; now it had returned and he found himself tugging on the collar in a fruitless attempt to loosen the toughened fabric of the collar around his neck.

 

“You know,” said Kevin wryly, “nobody’s gonna get mad at you for loosening a few buttons. Those shirts are torture the first few times you wear them.”

 

He immediately removed his hands. “I’m okay,” he said. He could only hope he didn’t sound petulant, but Leon was resolved. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable he was, he would not let his standards slip, and certainly not on the first day.

 

Just focus on your breath. In and out.

 

Thankfully, it wasn’t long until they finally pulled up to the front of the station. Kevin kept the gas running as he watched Leon unbuckle himself. “Anyway,” he said brightly, “that’s the tour over and done with! I gotta get back to patrol and you have the very lovely totally not at all boring duty of desk work for the rest of the day. Any questions?”

 

More than a few. But there was really only one he wanted to ask, a dark spot festering in the back of his mind throughout the morning.

 

“I’ve heard about the… situation around here.”

 

Shock broke clear as the cold light of day across Kevin’s face. Leon felt his stomach drop. It really was as bad as he thought. Worse even. And once again the first thought that popped in his head was that it didn’t matter what had happened between them or how much she had hurt him, he was so grateful that Lisa wasn’t here. That she was far away from him and he hadn’t the chance to put her in harm’s way in a strange new city miles away from friends and family. 

 

“You heard about those? Up in New York?”

 

“Found out on my way through Arklay. I figured I’d be briefed on it by Marvin later. Or maybe the Chief? I was just wondering if you had any kind of advice or something I should know.” Kevin was pale as death as he gripped the wheel like an anchor. “I’d get it if you don’t want to talk about it,” Leon said quickly. “It’s completely understandable and I’ll drop it right now if you prefer.”

 

“No, that’s - yeah, that’s fine. Just caught me out of nowhere, y’know?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No no no, don’t be! Shoulda known a guy like you would be up to speed on,” he gestured awkwardly, “all this.” He chuckled, somehow off-tune. “Just like, keep your head on straight, y’know? No dark alleys in the city or late night hikes in Arklay or beyond. Sensible stuff.”

 

He should stop asking. He knows he’s freaked him out enough and Kevin just stopped looking like a gust of wind was going to carry him off, but he had to know. “I meant about the victims.”

 

Kevin sucked in a breath. “I don’t really know,” he said all in one breath, and Leon felt like such crap. “Not our department, Leon. A little above our paygrade, don’tcha think?”

 

“Okay,” he said slowly, “But if we’re patrolling we might see something. Maybe even a pattern of some kind. Anything to look out for?”

 

“Well if I hear anything like that then I’ll be sure to let you know.” He sighed deeply, frustration roiling. 

 

“Look,” he started after a moment, much more composed. “I was afraid of this happening, of you wanting to go all commando on this. New cop from New York - must be a dream of yours, right? But, Leon, it’s not for us to deal with, okay? Now I don’t want you to worry, they’ve already got the best guys working the case. STARS in Arklay, and Adam and his guys in Missing Persons and Homicide in the city, and the Sheriff’s department too.”

 

Explained why Dan had looked like he’d never slept since they began. Which, given how they met, was a real possibility.

 

“What about the Feds?”

 

“Doesn’t fit their criteria right now. Or something. I don’t know the details, really. It’s all good, Leon, I swear.”

 

“If you’re sure.”

 

“Look, I trust in the system. It’s a good one over here. And we all got our part to play. It’s not like New York with constant manhunts and serial killers on the loose. Most likely it’s just runaways. Kids, women trapped in abusive relationships, people outrunning debt collectors. And besides, Arklay mountains have always been notorious for being a deathtrap. I can’t understand why anyone would think it’s a good idea to hike in all that fog. Alone. Not to mention all the other things that can kill you up there like poisonous spiders or bears or whatever the fuck is knocking around there, I dunno I’m not in STARS or anything.”

 

Leon hoped Marvin wouldn’t mention his meeting with Wesker to him. “You’re right.”

 

He must not have looked particularly assuaged because Kevin then said, “Look, if it’ll put your mind at ease I’ll introduce you to the guys working the case in RPD, okay? They’re usually out and about but they should be back soon with the Chief.”

 

His Holiness Irons.

 

“You can fire all the questions you want at them, yeah? Just, like, don’t take it personally if they tell you the same thing I told you, okay?”

 

“Thanks, Kevin.”

 

He gave a small smile. “No problem.”

 

Leon gathered up his trash and stepped out of the car, closing it firmly behind him, before he began hiking up the steps.

 

“Hey, Leon!”

 

He looked over his shoulder at Kevin who called out to him, “You haven’t met the Chief yet, right?”

 

“Not had the pleasure, no!” he called back

 

“Well, try not to look too freaked out by his office decor!”

 

“What’s wrong with it?”

 

Some of the previous mirth returned to his expression. “Oh man, I don’t wanna spoil it but you’ve truly never seen anything like it before, I guarantee you!”

 

Leon laughed. “Sounds promising!” 

 

“Another tip for you!” called out Kevin as Leon was about to turn back. “Use plenty of fabric softener on the shirts! The good stuff!”

 

He gave a thumbs up in response, “Thanks for all the help!”

 

Kevin waved and drove off leaving Leon to head back into the station. His chest had certainly been loosened up, but his stomach was tighter than ever.

Notes:

A few things:

None of the characters in RE are perfect, even within the canon. For me as a writer, it's important to flesh out characters as being capable of both redeeming and undesirable qualities, and presenting the world of RE through this fic as more realistic and morally grey is my main goal in this project. Whether I succeed or not remains to be seen, but please understand that will naturally require me to write reprehensible dialogue and actions for almost every character (Claire and Jill are exceptions because they are literally perfect so no worries there). I do not actually hold the views of these characters. Also, the reasons behind the more abhorrent dialogue/actions will be explored over the course of this fic. We are going through this story through Leon's perspective and that will include him rationalising bad behaviour - something he does even within RE. He is gullible (especially when it comes to figures of authority) and very suggestible, and therefore he is quite vulnerable, especially in a fic where he's lonely and desperate to prove himself.

What I'm trying to say is please don't get all your morals from character introspection in a shitty RE fic.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Sorry it's been so long. There are two chapters though to make up for the long break

He never did end up meeting them. Chief Irons or that Wilson guy and his team. Marvin had assured him it was nothing to bother himself over, that he shouldn’t take it personally, but that was easier said than done. It wasn’t as though he expected any sort of fanfare, his co-workers and Marvin had provided plenty of that with the welcome party (and later a supposedly traditional Friday night’s inaugural drinks at Jack’s, or so Kevin had insisted). 

 

Marvin didn’t join them Friday night, understandably prioritising his kids’ bedtime rituals, but still took the time to empathise with Leon’s slight from Irons. As kind as his excuses were, they rang hollow when they were evidently born out of his own sense of propriety rather than from the man himself. 

 

“He would have come to check in on you, Leon,” he had said less assuredly than he’d surely meant to sound, “but he’s just… he’s just busy with a lot of different things and he had other… priorities, you know?”

 

He knew it wasn’t about the murders. The day after that first patrol – the very next day – Kevin had seemingly wasted no time in spreading the word to the entire RPD. Although Leon appreciated it was meant to be a kindness, Kevin’s phrasing of what were, in his opinion, very legitimate concerns had caused him great embarrassment. Several people had come up to him over the course of the week to discuss their newfound extremely-subtle-definitely-not-the-product-of-gossiping discovery of his supposedly very frightful nature. 

 

It was kindly meant, he was sure. He just hoped the teasing would fizzle out soon. The whole week, any time Leon had a question about anything to do with local crime, like the areas he was slated to be assigned, everyone rushed to assure him it was fine, they were fine, everything was fine.  

 

Everyone was fine but him in their minds. 

 

It was actually quite remarkable. Leon hadn’t even been sure when Kevin had found the time to spill the beans considering he had spent the rest of that day out on patrol and hadn’t even arrived for work yet. Unshockingly, his being late was a fairly regular occurrence.

 

It all started with Rita rather slyly sidling up next to him that very next morning as he microwaved his breakfast. “So, Leon,” she’d started, nonchalantly pouring herself a coffee, “how are you really feeling about starting here?”

 

And Leon, still reeling from the sudden move and a busy day acquainting himself with the horrible filing system at RPD, wasn’t yet quite awake to dignify that with more than a ‘hmaugh?’ – something half-animal/half-human surely left over from man’s early evolution awakened by sleep deprivation. 

 

Nonetheless she had pressed on nonplussed with a professional nod, “Yeah, it’s really natural for you to feel a bit overwhelmed.”

 

The seconds of the microwave ticked on as he attempted to wake his brain up enough to cotton on to what she was beating around the bush for. Five, four, three, two–

 

“Nobody wants to start off their career in law enforcement like this, and I certainly would never judge you for feeling a little… jumpy. What with all the news.”

 

Ping!

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“I’m just saying that you don’t need to act all tough, okay? It’s natural to be a little… jumpy. People going missing is pretty disturbing, but we’ve got this, okay? Don’t worry your sweet little head about it!”

 

Before he could gather his thoughts enough to formulate a dignified response from the jumbled mess floating about up there, she’d patted his arm – slightly longer than a simple comforting touch ought to be – picked up her coffee, and left. 

 

Similar conversations peppered his week. At this rate a look lasting more than three seconds from even the janitor had Leon panicking at the prospect of another conversation of handholding and saccharine voices.

 

And then there’d been his personal favourite from George when Leon had gone to the men’s room. Of all places for some reason he’d thought it was most appropriate to start his first real conversation with Leon when he was in the middle of relieving himself. George had sidled up next to him, plonked himself over the urinal adjacent, got himself going for a moment or two before saying, “So I hear you’re gettin’ all jumpy about being near crime.”

 

He chose not to answer.

 

“Not for nothing, but it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard. You seem like the clean cut type anyhow.”

 

“I am not jumpy about being near crime.”

 

“Not what I’ve heard.”

 

Normally Leon would just walk away from situations like this, but he just had to have two coffees this morning, didn’t he? 

 

“Where is everyone even hearing this from?”

 

“Look, I’m sorry if I was a little hard on you when we first met there. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of to be a little jumpy when you’re so green still. Best to just admit it and get it over with. First step and all that.”

 

Thank Christ Leon was finally finished. And by the sounds of it George was wrapping up too.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I do.” 

 

He turned to wash up.

 

“Meant nothing by it, kid. Honest.”

 

There was a note of sincerity which pleased harsh vindictiveness, but that just made Leon feel worse. He turned the tap up to scalding to silence the conflicting sensations.

 

“I’ve been doin’ this since you were in diapers. I dunno, I can’t claim to know what goes through a wide-eyed eager young buck like yours’ head. Only most of ‘em I’ve seen wanna prove they’re not sissies so bad they sign up for our jobs-”

 

He didn’t even use any soap, God.

 

“Then they’re in and out like that. They don’t get this job's all about mentality.”

 

“Look, I get it. You’re not my biggest fan. Maybe you never will be, and I can live with that. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make all these assumptions about me when you don’t even know me. I have nothing to prove to anyone, and I have what it takes to do this.”

 

His hands were red raw and above them in the mirror he could see George watching him – not looking at him, but really watching him. Leon didn’t know what he saw but whatever it was made him look almost forlorn, brow furrowed and mouth soft.

 

“For your sake, kid, I hope so.”

 

By the time he was left in peace and drying his hands he couldn’t even feel them.

 

---

 

Leon hated how his mind worked; insisting on rolling a non-stop clipshow of his worst moments of the week come Saturday. His solution was simple: let the VCR record the morning’s cartoons, plug in his Walkman, and head out the door for a long run. A habit that had started off when he was a teen, awkward and confused, had become somewhat of a lifeline for his sanity. 

 

He never planned to do it, didn’t ever really even want to do it, but once he returned bone-tired and all but collapsed on the couch to breathlessly laugh over Looney Toons he’d be reminded how pleasant it was to no longer even remember what was driving him so crazy earlier. 

 

Lisa had understood it, never once taking offence to his reasoning that he’d needed the run to clear up his thinking. The only issue she’d ever taken with it was his stubbornness to insist on running out in the brutal chill of New York’s winter when the sun was barely up. She had fruitlessly tried to persuade him to switch to treadmilling at the gym over and over again. Still, she’d set the VCR to run over the tape of last Saturday’s cartoons for him while she’d go out for their grocery shopping and bring back a late breakfast’s coffee and pastries, regular as clockwork.

 

Just another reason for him to run this morning, really, he thought as he stretched out. This move had certainly undone some of his progress in moving on from her. Leon wasn’t even really sure how or why, but he knew he needed to address these nameless feelings that bogged him down so often this week. 

 

Besides, he reasoned, as he changed into a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he was never one to lounge in bed and the run would help him to map out the city from a different perspective. Although he knew how to get around somewhat by car with all the ride-alongs, it would no doubt come in useful to know his way around the streets on foot too. 

 

Know your tools well and your surroundings even better, as he’d been frequently told.

 

And thankfully, he’d set up his cable package earlier in the week. Even had the VCR ready to go; he got the VCR, she got the tape deck. He hadn’t been too fussed about it at the time, but since it seemed he’d either misplaced his Walkman or, more likely, forgot it back at his parents’ house, he half-wished he’d gone with the tape deck as he hunted for a fresh pair of socks. And where the hell did his goddamn sneakers go again?

 

Honestly, learning about the tools and surroundings in his tiny one-bedroom was as good a place to start as any.

 

---

 

The early morning’s cool air startled him, and he loved it.

 

He loved the sensation of the slight stinging of his cheeks, the way it made his breath catch as tiny frosty particles in the air prickled his windpipe, how his muscles stood to attention as the cold pinched at his skin. For a moment he would almost feel more animal than man; something feral and raw unleashed within blessedly allowing Leon the chance to take relief in the backseat of his own mind as his body is commanded by the base instinct to move.

 

It was always interesting to him, how giving in to such a primal urge seemed to make him feel more human. The primitive autopilot doesn’t last forever, but soon he’d get too tired to do much more than focus on his breathing and pacing to keep up his stamina, and he couldn’t very well think of his stupid little problems when he’d be so preoccupied with memorising his route so far. And today he had yet another task to keep a tab on: places of interest.

 

For example, he had just passed by a laundromat/dry cleaners. Very helpful for essential tasks such as cleaning clothes. Like his socks. And right over there across the street he could see an unopened restaurant with the classic golden lettering above the shopfront that came standard with most Chinese restaurants in America, especially befitting one named Fortune Cat. Also very helpful for essential things like eating when he didn’t have time to cook. And considering he was also a pretty crap cook regardless, finding cheap eats was a matter of urgency. 

 

Documenting every step he took on the relatively peaceful early morning streets, unburdened by the weekday hordes of workers and school children, had a strange revitalising effect. It wasn’t long until he arrived at West Park, its green open space beckoning him deeper with a lovely little map highlighting a quaint pond if the photos were to be trusted. 

 

He ran and ran and ran. Pushing himself to exhaustion, and then a little bit further, with no company save for the wind in the trees, the singing of the birds, and (as he’d been secretly hoping for) the ducks swimming in the water helped ground any thoughts left loose solidly back into the confines of his body. This was why he’d never choose to treadmill – not when this was the alternative. The combination of the soft gentle soundscape and the intense physical burn left him breathless in the most pleasing way; a ripple of laughter bubbled in his sore chest and no doubt a dumb little smile was plastered on his panting face. 

 

Eventually, he found his way out of the park and ended up back on the streets, notably busier than the ones prior. He knew he mustn’t be too far off from downtown, though he wasn’t quite sure exactly where he was. It wasn’t that he was lost. It just didn’t help that his own mental map used RPD as its compass – his one constant that had dictated his life this week. 

 

Jesus, wasn’t that sad?

 

He pressed on a little longer, slowing down to discern his whereabouts. He wasn’t lost per se – he remembered exactly how he got here after all. Besides, there was meant to be a really big zoo nearby, wasn’t there? That could be fun, even if he went on his own. The brochures in the station looked kinda cool, especially since people could feed some of the animals at certain times. Plus, it looked huge when he passed by it in the car. 

 

Although now that he thought about it, wasn’t it weird that he hadn’t come across it at all considering its size? It was even more confusing considering how close it appeared next to West Park on the map. He wasn’t lost, but maybe he was just mixed up? Maybe he’d gotten it wrong and it was actually near Raccoon Park? 

 

…Which was on the other side of the city, if memory served correct.

 

…Which it wasn’t quite doing at the moment given that’s what led him to this situation in the first place. 

 

…Alright, yeah he was definitely lost.

 

Unfortunately, there weren’t any maps to be found dotted around Raccoon City, and other than finding his way to the Umbrella campus the road signs were equally useless. Frustrated, he slowed to a stop and sighed aloud, accidentally startling a passerby in a moment that was sure to haunt him for many nights to come. The mortification made it clear to him what needed to be done, no matter how dreaded the task was itself. 

 

“Directions,” he noted glumly. He definitely needed directions.

Chapter 7

Emmy’s diner was the only place open at this time of day on a Saturday. 

 

It was a charming, cosy sort of place. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall, he’d almost completely passed by it in his search down Ema Street. And though the name was perhaps not the most creative, the heavenly aroma of fresh pancakes and smoky bacon was promising to say the least. 

 

This also provided an out for Leon: he could casually get his bearings over the bill of a nice hearty Midwestern breakfast, and still come out saving face. 

 

As he took a seat over by the countertop he was suddenly struck with the memory of one of those retro diners his family took him to whenever he’d been good as a kid – a mom and pop joint that made the best eggs benedict he had ever had since. When Leon eventually made it to high school the owners retired and the property had transitioned into a far trendier tapas bar, which inevitably shut the doors after six months of business in a suburb populated by geriatrics and sprawling families - not exactly the wine and antipasti crowd they’d been hoping to attract. 

 

He remembered when Mr and Mrs Conners (or was it Connor? Connelly, maybe?) had announced their retirement – on his own birthday no less that he remembered for sure – his own mom had pleaded for some of the recipe cards to no avail. When all seemed lost it was his uncle who’d given a surly fourteen-year-old Leon a pat on the shoulder and told him to leave it to him to sort out. Almost as soon as he’d left he’d returned victorious, having managed to charm the recipes out of the filing cabinet (although his dad was still convinced to this day that they were stolen). They’d tried their best over the years, but despite their efforts they never could quite get the dishes to taste the same.

 

A menu suddenly dropped right in front of him, jerking him back from childhood and into the present. 

 

“Sorry,” the waitress said unconvincingly, nose buried in her notepad, “you were kind of spaced out when I asked about coffee.”

 

“Oh no, it’s alright it’s my bad for – wait, Claire?”

 

“Who’s asking? I swear if you’re another one of Damian’s stupid friends I don’t have time when I’m on the clock for you ass–”

 

“I don’t know who those people are but they sound like they’re shitheads. It’s Leon from the other night at the gas station, remember?”

 

She finally looked up from her notepad with barely a hint of recognition.

 

“I bought you the Skittles.”

 

Nothing.

 

“I’m the guy with the crappy form.”

 

Still nothing. He was starting to think he’d gotten names and faces mixed up and had now dug himself into a hole from which he would never escape.

 

“I accidentally flashed you.”

 

Why did he phrase it like that he can never return now and this poor girl was looking at him like he was absolutely insane–

 

“You mean you blinded me over an imaginary raccoon.”

 

“Yeah! That was me!” Relief was bliss. “Uh, sorry again about that by the way.”

 

“It’s cool. Don’t worry I didn’t forget the compensation Skittles – I just wanted to see you sweat a bit longer trying to explain that night.”

 

“That was torture. I don’t think I can bring myself to tip you now.”

 

“Oh come on, it was pretty funny. It all sounded so wrong when you were trying to explain yourself.”

 

“I was minutes away from running out the door and never showing my face here again.”

 

She laughed and unfolded the plastic-sleeved menu with much greater care, “Don’t do that now, the food’s great here! We have a Saturday special that’s really good, I promise!”

 

The picture was certainly enticing. Scrambled eggs, bacon, homefries, fresh seasonal fruit cut up in a little bowl, and a stack of golden buttery waffles piled up high. It was probably too much, even for him, but his sweet tooth decided the moment he saw it.

 

“Leave the syrup on the table and we’re golden.”

 

“Deal!” She took the menu and wrote up her shorthand, “Any coffee, tea, OJ?”

 

“Just a black coffee and a glass of water, please, thanks.”

 

She pulled a face but very professionally continued jotting down his order.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. Just from what I remember you buying I figured you were the type of guy who added like ten spoons of sugar and a half cup of creamer into their coffee.”

 

“Hey, I don’t judge your snacking.”

 

“Not judging anything, just making a comment.”

 

“And there’s a lot of sugar in the meal, so a plain coffee compliments it well.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Not that I put that much into my coffee anyway.”

 

“Sure.”

 

It was a lost battle. “Just get me my food, Claire.”

 

“Of course,” she ripped up the receipt from her notepad and handed it to him. “Bill will be brought to you at the end. We don’t accept cheques by the way,” she said as she turned towards the kitchen.

 

“This is coming out of your tip, you know.”

 

“I’ve accepted that!”

 

There was no winning with her. She was definitely a little sister.

 

---

 

“So how was it?”

 

It was amazing. A bit too greasy, but the fruit cut right through that. The waffles had a delicious sugary crisp outside and fluffy marshmallow-like soft inside that was a goddamn revelation to him. The bacon was thick and hearty, the kind that obviously was cut fresh right before it hit the sizzle. Leon had defied even his expectations and had eaten every last bite of what could only be described as breakfast perfection.

 

“It was okay.”

 

“Don’t quit your day job, Leon. You’re not good at jokes.”

 

“Guess I’ll leave those to you then.”

 

“Absolutely. And food recommendations if those empty plates count for anything… unless the raccoon got to them. That thing isn’t following you around, is it?”

 

“Jesus, I hope not.”

 

“I only ask because one once had a habit of camping out in my brother’s pick-up for a whole summer,” she started gathering up his tableware, “in fairness he was sixteen and a total pig, but you can imagine how poorly his dates went.”

 

“Raccoons are known for being pretty territorial, I guess.”

 

“More like territorial over Chris himself. It was only there when he was.”

 

“He must have been feeding it.”

 

“He always denied it, but you could be right. I think he just never cleared up after himself, so he probably left behind all kinds of goodies for the little guy.”

 

He shuddered in mock horror, “I’ll make sure not to revert back to being a gross teenage boy then.”

 

“Thank God,” she said dramatically as she gathered up the last of it, heaving the impressive bundle up in her arms with practised ease.

 

“How long have you been working for this morning?”

 

“Oh, since around five in the morning. Lots of Umbrella contractors come through even on weekends – staff discount and all. Honestly, this place was practically built on feeding that crowd. I’m just about to get my first break though.”

 

“That’s good!” He took a moment to mentally review how to not make this sound creepy, but panicked when she started to turn to leave, “Uh, not to be too weird or anything but if you wanted to we could, you know, share the break… unless you wanted to take some time by yourself to decompress or something because that’s cool too.” God, why did he come off so awkward sometimes?

 

She smiled warmly, “First off, not weird at all since I literally gave you my number, but I appreciate you asking nicely. And second of all, yes I’m totally up for that! I wanna hear all about the new job! Just give me a few minutes first, okay?”

 

---

 

Claire was a good listener.

 

It was kind of interesting to Leon how he spent most of his week with people who were supposed to be his brothers and sisters in arms, but they weren’t exactly the best at lending an ear given the week he’d had. Granted he was still new and it was a professional environment and they didn’t have to be very close, but he’d barely known Claire for a few hours and it was like they’d been friends forever. 

 

“Yeah, Kevin’s an… interesting person.”

 

“You know him?”

 

She grimaced and Leon wasn’t sure if it was from the subject matter or a particularly sour bit of fruit in her breakfast smoothie. “He comes here fairly often, actually. And I’ve met him at a few parties before. He’s sweet and harmless enough, and though I don’t find his jokes very funny–”

 

“Not a pun master like yourself.”

 

“It’s not fair to compare with the best, Leon.” She took another long thoughtful sip through her straw. “No, he’s a decent guy so you should be good with him. He’s not a weirdo like Wilson or anything.”

 

Wilson? Why was that familiar? “You mean Sergeant Adam Wilson? The homicide detective?”

 

“Yeah. I met him once at the annual fundraiser they do downtown for the orphanage. He’s a little…” she chewed on the straw as she mused over her phrasing, “I don’t know, odd , I’d say. I’m not sure what the best word for it is actually. Chris moved us on to the duck shooting game pretty quick before the good prizes were gone. He’s probably nice enough if you know him. I dunno if you know Wesker: blond, kind of got a British accent, shades glued to his face–”

 

“Yeah, we’ve met.”

 

“Well, he kinda gives me the creeps too with how… intense he is. And I know for a fact I’m not alone on that one.”

 

That didn’t seem like a fair comparison to Leon. A kind of justified defensiveness arose within; both inside and out of RPD most people just didn’t seem to understand who Wesker was and what he was trying to accomplish. The animosity bothered Leon a lot: the snide comments, the sarcasm, the blatant jealousy. In a way he felt a sense of righteous pity that they couldn’t see what a goddamn genius he was just because he didn’t mince words and instead focused on putting the work into his goals. 

 

But that was the way of most great people, wasn’t it? Vincent Van Gogh, Marilyn Monroe – only at the end does everyone realise the importance of what they had been doing the whole time they were around.

 

“But Chris loves the guy, so he must be a pretty good one!” Claire said quickly, and Leon wondered if she’d sensed his douring mood. “I guess dealing with murders and other fucked up stuff all day probably just changes people a bit. Maybe you’re more equipped to be around them than I am, being in their line of work and all that.”

 

He could see her point on that one. It made sense the guys who were out all day dealing with what he could only imagine to be absolute horror were seen as outsiders. 

 

'An interloper among humans', is what he recalled one veteran soldier describe himself as when they’d brought him into Scouts for a character building exercise. At the time Leon didn’t even really understand what the word ‘interloper’ even meant, so the gravity of the lived experience hadn’t had much impact on the then ten-year-old. And half a year later when Leon had recognised his picture in the local paper in an article with big adult words like ‘alcoholism’, ‘depression’, and ‘suicide’ he still couldn’t quite put two and two together.

 

Now, however, Leon considered if he too could change to be so unrecognisable one day.

 

“I guess I can see what you mean about Wesker, but I can’t say the same about the Sergeant. He’s been…” How did he put this delicately? “Very busy.”

 

“Oh.” A beat. Then Claire dropped her voice just above a whisper, “I guess it’s that murder string right?”

 

What the–? “You know about that?”

 

“My brother’s in STARS, remember?”

 

“Right,” he grumbled. Why did it feel like everyone knew but him?

 

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s that big of a secret as everyone makes it out to be,” she said, as though she could read his mind. “It’s more like people choose not to think about rather than they don’t know at all. I mean, I’m just here to earn a little cash and see my family in between semesters, but sometimes I go to the college library to study and there’s way more posters about personal safety and dangerous areas than there used to be.”

 

That made even less sense to him. What good was an open secret?

 

“So why is everyone acting like this? I haven’t seen a single news report on TV or in the paper.”

 

“It’s a city built on a small town, Leon. This is a pretty big shocker and they’re just not emotionally equipped for this. Besides I think they’re catching up to them now, Chris says they’ve got a few leads. You’ve met him, right?”

 

“STARS are out pretty often.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Monday and Wednesday afternoons are reserved for his paperwork. Friday mornings too. He’ll be the big hulking loser downing protein shakes or eating cheap takeout, strumming along badly to Queen at his desk.”

 

That description sounded vaguely familiar. “He sounds like the STARS equivalent of Kevin.”

 

She snorted. “Chris is a work hard, play hard kind of guy. He just really hates filling in forms. Honestly, if you started talking to him about the case he’ll probably thank you for giving him an excuse to procrastinate.”

 

She frowned. “Though if you catch him smoking, kick him in the nuts for me. He’s supposed to be quitting.”

 

“Take it from a man – that would be the quickest way of getting on his shit list,” he laughed. “But, I’ll drop by when I’ve got the chance.”

 

“Ugh, first Barry, then Jill, and now you? You guys are all the same – STARS or police.” She shook her head. “Well, you’ll see him at some point, don’t worry. I honestly think you guys would get on really well. Plus, there’s another newbie over in STARS, so it wouldn’t be too weird. I haven’t met her yet, but I know she’s a killer small forward. They asked you to play on the basketball team yet?”

 

“Baseball’s more my thing. I’m guessing there’s no team?”

 

She furrowed her brow. “I remember they used to do some kinda thing with Little League, I think? Maybe? Sorry.”

 

“Tough break.”

 

“Hmmm yeah. Not really a baseball town, so you might have a hard time finding much outlet for that around here.” She quickly drained the last of the glass. “And speaking of break I gotta get back to it.”

 

“Oh.” Had the time passed so quickly? “Yeah, me too.”

 

“But this was fun!”

 

“I emptied my wallet on you again, but nobody got hurt this time.”

 

“We’re making progress! Just remember you can call me whenever you need any help around here. My vacation’s not over for a good while yet.”

 

“Same to you. My phone’s all set up and ready to go. Got a pen?”

 

“Always. Any times I should avoid?”

 

“It’s not like I have a dial-up or anything,” said Leon, jotting down his number on the back of the bill. “Right now I’m on day shifts only until I get used to things, so it’s steady nine-to-five work. I run Saturday mornings. Other than that I’ve not got much going on yet.”

 

She took the scrap paper and folded it into her pocket. “I’m kind of the same really. I work Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and I alternate between Saturdays and Sundays every week. Oh and Fridays I tend to go study at the college until afternoon.”

 

“Studying on Fridays? 

 

“Yeah? And?”

 

“Nothing. Just can’t believe you’re such a nerd.”

 

“It’s the only quiet day over there!”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I literally ride a motorcycle.”

 

“It’s the nineties, you don’t need to hide who you really are anymore.”

 

“Ha-ha you’re so funny just get the fuck out already, Leon.”

 

“I promise if anyone bullies you for your lunch money, just let me know and I'll sort it out.”

 

“Leave.”

 

Score one for Leon.

Notes:

Just as a little reiteration - Claire and Leon will not develop a romantic relationship in this story. They have great chemistry and I personally feel that chemistry works best when they're friends. It's a kind of gentle bullying with a lot of support that will be important for the story as well as character development. Leon's occasional awkwardness around her primarily comes from his limited interactions with women due to an incident earlier described in the story with his ex and her friend sort of gaslighting him into thinking he's intentionally giving off mixed messages, so he hasn't had female friends in a long time (which yeah I've seen happen and it's really not nice). What I'm trying to say is that it's really important for me to show men and women being really good friends and platonically close.

Chapter 8

Over the next few weeks Leon had settled into a rhythm. It was funny that while he’d always been somewhat aware that his day-to-day life would not be heart-pounding non-stop adrenaline-fuelled blazes of glory, he really had underestimated just how tedious it could be. 

 

If it wasn’t picking up supplies, it was tracking inventory. How this fell under his remit he didn’t really know, but every time someone (Neil. It was almost always Neil) gave the order they would insist that everyone had to pay their dues when they started out and it was important Leon respected that to learn how to be a good team player. So Leon never thought it wise to complain, even though they had an office administrator who was apparently too busy to do the job despite her face being buried in a flashy magazine whenever he saw her. 

 

To make matters worse the RPD was still in the midst of renovations as part of the city’s 1991 Revitalisation Promise. Marvin had glossed over it on the tour, stating that it was between the Chief and the Mayor’s Office to decide when and what got upgraded, which he didn’t seem too pleased about judging by his curt explanation when asked. Leon still wasn’t too sure about the details but the renovations didn’t really seem to be in any of the key areas like the cell block Marvin had complained about (which having seen for himself he could confirm was ludicrously outdated). Regardless, they made these tasks a huge pain. 

 

The contractors were scheduled for the weekends, so he hadn’t seen them yet, but there was somehow a perpetual sheen of dust blanketing these rooms whenever he visited. Despite his qualms about dust he had quickly been forced to power through his discomfort, finding no way around it but to simply throw open the windows, work fast, and hope for the best. There was, however, no avoiding the teasing over the fine layer of dust that stubbornly clung to his uniform afterwards. And if Rita was on desk duty there was definitely no avoiding how she would be all too insistent on helping to swipe it off his body, in spite of his assurances that he could take care of it himself. He usually got teased even more by that point and he wasn’t sure which he disliked more, the touching or the teasing about it, so he eventually stopped bothering trying to win that fight and would instead take extra care to clean himself up before he saw anyone.

 

And even when he wasn’t playing the department’s errand boy there was still a good chance of ending the day in frustration. 

 

The admin work. Dear God in Heaven, the admin work. RPD had a terrible filing system only made worse by the fact nobody ended up actually adhering to it. Leon could die a happy man if he never had to chase up another file for someone. Especially David. But especially Kevin. If nothing else, helping them with their paperwork gave Leon remarkable insight into why they were so close – only like-minded individuals with a very special way of thinking could understand their weird filing system that they repeatedly insisted made perfect sense when he was certain there was no actual system in existence in the first place and they probably just shoved cases wherever they could fit. The lack of organised formal filing past the late seventies was a huge headache, and one that had him wondering how anyone managed to get any work done. 

 

He particularly found it worrying when it came to larger, more complicated investigations (such as a literal murder spree) which would obviously warrant reviewing cold and closed cases alike to look for clues. He didn’t even want to imagine Homicide’s workload when even minor crimes were proving such a hardship. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him that the main RPD didn’t have everything backed up to a computer system, which would honestly be a dream right now so he could finally get back to the real work. It wasn’t even that big of a dream when STARS had that exact system despite having far less workflow. Upstairs, everyone had a personal desktop and typed up all their reports – Leon had seen the servers. 

 

He supposed, one day as he hunted for a folder from a petty theft in Christmas ‘96, it could be down to what Marvin had bemoaned: funding discrepancies based on title rather than necessity. But something also told him that Wesker’s own determination to raise the highest standards of his unit had no small part to play. Tight budgets were a universal problem in this line of work, but a well-thought out and articulated case based on facts was sure to secure some money – it had to exist if STARS had access to it. And everyone was so laissez-faire about these things down on the shop floor that Leon wondered if that was the true crux of the matter; the severely relaxed attitude of the duty police hardly afforded much sympathy, much less the monetary kind. 

 

Simply put, someone who spent as little time in the RPD as Chief Irons would hardly be at fault for denying further budgets towards the group that seemed fairly nonplussed compared to the one that wouldn’t stop until perfection and then some.

 

Really, he had a lot of time to think whenever he was doing admin work. 

 

As much as he hated to admit it, unless Marvin or Elliot were on duty Leon could quite easily be assigned some menial task that could take up almost the whole day and hardly anyone would be interested in checking up on him. And unfortunately for him, Marvin and Elliot were almost always out on duty and almost always at the same time. He and Kevin would be on desk duty at the same time, but since Kevin had been a cop for far longer he got to spend the time actually being a cop: reviewing his cases and writing up reports. Leon didn’t have any cases, hence the errand boy jobs. 

 

And despite Kevin’s whining that Leon was lucky while he got the shorter end of the stick, Leon could not find himself agreeing. He would frequently find himself reflecting on his day on the drive home, trying to understand why he felt so drained despite the fact that he had essentially spent the day doing no actual police work and was bored to tears half the time. He would regularly fall asleep late into the night, driven to exhaustion from trying to quieten the part of his mind that doubted his purpose here and worried that he wasn’t going to find it in this city thousands of miles away from the last place that made sense. 

 

He wasn’t making a difference sorting out supplies when people barely used them appropriately and just misplaced them the second Leon was finished. They would inevitably put in another order and he would have to go back and redo the job. 

 

He wasn’t changing lives chasing up files for anyone because they would just stick it back in some random old place. They would just end up either forgetting about it or asking Leon to go find it again because they forgot something they needed and had to re-check it. 

 

Leon could put in his best or his worst effort and the day would end pretty much exactly the same way. Here, inefficiency was practically an institution in itself.

 

There was however one positive that came with all of his free time, though it was a rather grim one: he could be free to try researching the murder string. Since seemingly everyone he knew was still treating him with kid gloves and he still hadn’t met Sergeant Wilson and his team, he had a tough time finding out anything until today when he finally got the space to plonk himself down on the floor in a dinky room with a load of case files he probably was not meant to touch and just read. 

 

He suspected a good chunk of the files were missing – likely still in the possession of the detectives and STARS on the case – so he would have to make do with limited knowledge for now. Still, Leon reasoned as he flicked through, some knowledge was better than none. Despite his enthusiasm it was nevertheless challenging filling in the blanks, especially when he hadn’t yet had any experience with such grim cases. Kevin’s were the only ones he got some help in reading which were by-and-large petty crimes, so gleaning through materials like forensics reports certainly presented quite the learning curve. 

 

Whenever you’re stuck go back to the basics.

 

From what he could gather the facts were as follows: five victims had been found or presumed dead over the past four months within Arklay county, three women and two men ranging between the ages of nineteen to forty-two. Of these, two were discovered in the mountains, one within city limits, and two were never reclaimed at all. Whenever a body was found it was often in a very bad way – ‘ human remains’ was a worryingly common phrase within the investigators’ reports. The causes were never conclusive as such. Not with the limited material available to them.

 

Every single one of the victims had lived in Raccoon City at the time of their death, some for far longer than others, but so far as he could tell they had no relationships, hobbies, or businesses that connected them. They were so dissimilar that it was borderline disturbing. They had to have something in common. Such extreme acts of violence and genuine malice couldn’t possibly be random. There surely had to be some link between all these people: religion, sexuality, ethnicity, drug abuse, anything. He racked his brains over and over again trying to think of even the flimsiest of associations, reading and re-reading over and over again every time he had the faintest inkling of an idea – he came up woefully short every single time.

 

Eventually, when Leon’s head began to swim and his hand started to cramp from his note-taking he allowed himself to take a few moments to breathe. Pushing the papers out of their perch on his lap and letting his head go slack against the wall, he shut his eyes briefly and tried to focus on reviewing what he had learnt so far. 

 

Stick to the facts, no opinions.

 

That had always been a particularly difficult lesson to swallow. Right now, however, he needed to hold fast to it.

 

28-year-old Heidi Ryan, a brown-haired, brown-eyed Caucasian female of medium height and build, had been the first way back in mid-April. By all accounts a normal and inconspicuous woman, nobody was sure when she exactly went missing; she didn’t have a job and didn’t attend any schooling. She mostly kept to herself with no friends or significant others in her life. Her parents had passed away in ‘93, the father’s heart attack following the mother’s heart failure; Leon wasn’t quite sure what the difference was, but it wasn’t very important for now. She had a brother in Sydney who had moved away in ‘95 for an IT company job; they were described as being close until they weren’t. She herself hadn’t lived in Raccoon City more than three months. Clearly she was lonely and lonely people, Leon knew, had a way of slipping through the cracks of an all-too busy society. A missing persons investigation with the RPD by a Detective Peter Jacobs (Leon didn’t have a face to go with the name) was only opened after her landlord, 54-year-old Milton Burns, went to check up on her – a kinder way of describing a demand for payment, Leon was sure–

 

Just the facts, no opinions.

 

He sighed. He needed more discipline over his emotions.

 

The search had lasted about a week and a half until what was left of her body was discovered deep within the Arklay mountains. She wasn’t found by STARS, though they had been called in to assist after five days of empty searching. Interestingly enough the discovery was made perchance by an Arklay County sheriff named Daniel Cortini–

 

Wait. 

 

Daniel? As in the Dan Leon had met all those weeks ago?

 

He quickly flicked through to the sheriff’s statement. There wasn’t a photo, that wasn’t a thing, but reading between the lines Leon could pick up on his voice coming through the text. His disdain towards the RPD had certainly persevered. Dan – Sheriff Cortini – had claimed that although the County Sheriffs had not yet been notified by Chief Irons who Dan knew was just being so reluctant since he would never dream of burdening the poor little rubes past city limits, the kindly man that he was, and really why would he when he had so many resources at his beck and call that could easily find one lost girl between them? 

 

As for Dan? Well, he just so happened to have actually met Heidi when she’d first crossed the County line due to a busted taillight and well, when he just so happened to read about her in a tiny column in The Raccoon Reporter he had an idea to keep his eyes peeled in the nooks and crannies of the Arklay mountains and oh, didn’t those hyper-competent STARS guys know to look in those areas that are extremely easy to slide off and fall to an early death? Well, luckily at least someone in local law enforcement, call it experience due to serving the area for just under twenty years, just so happened to know where would be a good place to look. 

 

Why didn’t he call? Well, he did but it just so happened nobody was interested in moving him past hold. At least as far as he could tell anyway.

 

Leon knew all of the 'just so happened's were meant to highlight how Chief Irons had dropped the ball on this one. He’d known it before he’d put two and two together, but now that he did it painted everything in a richer perspective to say the least. For one, he completely understood Dan’s attitude back when he met him. It must have been devastating to say the least, to have been the one to meet this person on their way in and their way out like that. No wonder he had been so agitated when he had felt forced to take matters into his own hands for that poor woman’s sake. And it definitely seemed like Chief Irons had shot himself in the foot with his own hubris. Dan was right; at the end of the day regardless of training and military background the County Sheriffs were far more experienced in the terrain and they should have been consulted for their expertise.

 

The morbidly good news was that forensics had placed her death as pre-dating the investigation altogether. The bumpy learning curve was a little more acceptable that time around. It would have definitely destroyed anyone to have been too little too late with all the time-wasting. Leon couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like for him. All he dared was spend a moment picturing it before he felt sick to his core.

 

Some of the others hadn’t been so lucky.

 

Leon had noted who had made the discoveries on the cases in which there had been anything to find – he needed to be sensitive when he talked to them. The embarrassment had stung when he realised Kevin had been the one to find the last victim, Tanya Espinosa, just before Leon had arrived. 

 

The coroner couldn’t quite be sure when she had precisely died, though when she had failed to come back from an evening jog the call had been immediately put out. Her body had been recovered three weeks later near Raccoon Park (in the northside rather than the west as Leon now knew), spotted during a particularly dry August day after weeks of record high temperatures had caused Circular River’s water levels to drop significantly. 

 

Just nineteen. A bright geography major at Raccoon City University, she was by all accounts a well-liked and even popular girl. ‘The life of the party’, her roommate had described her. 

 

It was hard for him to not see Claire in the file. He wondered if Kevin had felt the same.

 

Facts only. No opinions.

 

Right. Well, it was time to face facts that he wasn’t going to get any further for now. He now had his notes and he made sure to carefully put the case files back in a place he’d be able to reference when needed. He had the basics at least and for now he had to be satisfied.

 

It was back to reality for Leon. He had to pick up a few things before he could go back to the West Office: the box of staples David had requested, the records of the parking violations from January through March of this year for Neil, the stack of photocopies Rita had asked him to make, and the paperwork needed for Kevin’s recent DUI arrest. Right, and George probably needed him to do his daily faxings. Apparently every time he tried using it the fax machine would mysteriously error out, though Leon was fairly sure he was exaggerating to guilt trip him into faxing every little thing for him. Kevin insisted he was just a dinosaur. 

 

Fortunately, the pile with his name on it next to the machine didn’t seem too egregious. One time the backlog had been so intense it had taken him well over an hour to finish. He’d nearly teared his own hair out at how agonisingly frustrating that had been, hence the daily faxings had become a fixture more for his own peace of mind than George’s. 

 

Making his way back once he had finished up he bumped into Elliot. Embarrassingly quite literally, what with all the goods he was carrying which flew all over the floor. Really, Leon almost couldn’t believe it. So struck was he by the impeccably terrible timing of the situation that it took him more than a few moments to get his brain into gear and his mouth moving in apology.

 

“Shiii–oot! I’m so sorry, sir!”

 

In times like this all he could be grateful for was that the box of staples was still intact, thank God.

 

“Gotta be more alert next time, Kennedy,” said Elliot, already crouching down to gather the mess Leon had made. Leon quickly joined him, embarrassment searing his face and a litter of apologies half-formed on his lips– 

 

“If I hadn’t just finished up my coffee you could’ve gotten hurt there.”

 

That somehow made him just feel worse. Still, not wanting to make a bigger scene, Leon swallowed down his feelings and chose to focus his efforts on clearing the floor before his superior did.

 

“I’m really sorry, sir. I’ll be more careful.”

 

“See to it that you do, Kennedy,” Elliot said, handing him the photocopies. Whether it was intuition or something else, Leon didn’t know, but Elliot had somehow organised them in the correct order from what he could tell. 

 

“Thanks. I will, sir.”

 

Elliot nodded firmly before rising from the floor; Leon hurriedly took the chance to join him on his feet. “You should start by organising your admin duties a bit better.” Shame welled up inside Leon. He shouldn’t have gotten lax like that. No matter how much he hated it, work was work. Leon was not above even the lowliest of duties.

 

“I know paperwork is an unglamorous aspect of the job–” 

 

‘But it’s an important part of being a team player, and right now you’re falling short.’

 

“–but you shouldn’t leave yourself to the last minute like that. It’s a real bad habit to kick, Kennedy. You do your work out there and you file the paperwork first chance you get when you’re in here, okay?”

 

What?

 

“These aren’t mine,” he blurted, surprising even himself.

 

There was a long pause.

 

“Come again?”

 

Leon felt the pinpricks of panic that sent him back to the night at the gas station. He was in the wrong, he knew, but wasn’t sure exactly why.

 

“I mean this isn’t – this isn’t actually my paperwork. Or my supplies even. Not that I’m trying to avoid my own, it's just that because I’ve only started I haven’t yet gotten the experience that I apparently need. I mean I’ve done a little, but not much. Mainly just speeding tickets, which aren’t very time-consuming. So I’ve just been told to sort this stuff out for the others to help build up my experience.”

 

“Who?”

 

Christ, how was he so good at being intimidating with so few words?

 

“Just little odd jobs for the West Office. Y’know, when I don’t have much else going on.”

 

Elliot’s eyes were narrowing and Leon was beginning to feel they weren’t on the same page. 

 

“Nothing too seriously important or above my pay grade. Just the basics really. Starting off small.”

 

That wasn’t helping either. If anything he looked even more displeased. Leon wasn’t really sure what to say to keep him from finally losing it, but he was fast running out of ideas.

 

“Usually I’m more on top of it, but today I guess I let it get out of hand. You know how slow that fax machine is, right?” He tried laughing it off, but Elliot wasn’t biting. Of course, he wasn't when Leon, for all the buzz surrounding him and Marvin talking him up, most definitely looked like a complete moron right now. 

 

“I, uh, I’m really very sorry, sir. I’ll – I’ll do better, I promise.”

 

“... Get back to the office, Kennedy.”

 

Leon swallowed thickly. “Yes, sir.”

 

Thankfully, nobody had noticed he’d taken far longer than necessary to complete his errands, and Leon was allowed to retreat to his desk with barely any issue. Unfortunately, in his haste to get away from his disappointed superior he forgot to attend the bathroom to fix up his appearance, which Rita was only all too happy to help with despite Leon’s protests and the sniggers from the rest of the office. He gave up in the end, like always, but today it left a pit in his stomach that was especially cold.

Notes:

Again, yeah I'm sorry it takes me so long to post chapters. I'm really trying to push myself for you guys with all the wonderful support I've gotten!

Chapter 9

“So always remember–”

 

“Mr Raccoon is not for target practice!” screamed the chorus of thirty-three children.

 

“That’s right,” said Leon, or at least that’s what he hoped he’d said. That last scream left his ears positively ringing. “He doesn’t like it and neither will you when it shatters into a million pieces and splinters off into your face.”

 

“Ewww!”

 

“It’s even grosser than you think.”

 

“Ewww!”

 

When Leon had been “asked” to run the school tour that morning he had no idea what to expect, but so far he was managing to cope. He liked kids well enough, but he really didn’t know what he was supposed to do with them in a place like this. Kids gaining perspective of local city services was important for sure, but a police station was hardly the most child-appropriate place. 

 

Obviously the jail cells down in the basement were off limits, but sometimes an arrested person was in the middle of a booking in any old room that was available and it wasn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence for an officer to accidentally stumble into a sensitive discussion. They didn’t use signs or anything to ward away potential intruders from high octane scenarios, and there’d be no way of knowing what was on the other side of the door until it was opened. Even though he never got into trouble for it, Leon always felt like an asshole for needlessly barging in on someone’s lowest moment – even if they were a criminal he could imagine how humiliating it would be to have a bigger audience than necessary. 

 

So a good chunk of the rooms should be avoided too just to spare those encounters. Fine. But then another good chunk should probably also be off-limits given the restoration efforts. Okay. But then shouldn’t the other rooms that were used as storage space for the sections that were getting their renovations also be avoided? What with all the sensitive materials and the dust. Especially the dust. Seemed like every other kid had asthma these days. 

 

Which left him… almost nowhere really. So where was he meant to take them? What were the talking points he was meant to bring up? What were the highlights that were appropriate for fourth through sixth graders? What was the actual protocol here?

 

George had shrugged off his concerns with barely so much as a “good luck, kid” before leaving him to it. Leon had been none-too-happy with having something like this dumped on him with barely twenty minutes until game time, knowing full well he couldn’t argue against it being the bottom rung that he was, but figured that at least having Kevin as his partner would help him get to grips with the run of things.

 

That hope lasted the entirety of the walk from his locker to an almost deserted West Office.

 

“Sorry, man, I wish I could help you out on this, cross my heart, I really do. But I can’t.”

 

“But you’re scheduled on station duty too.”

 

“Oh yeah… yeah, that’s right,” he said, honest-to-God pouting as he scrambled for a response . “But today I can’t do this. I have, uh, I have to do… stuff?”

 

“Stuff?”

 

“Stuff! Yeah! Sorry, man, but duty calls, you know how it is.”

 

“And I take it this… stuff has to be done today?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Specifically between the hours of nine to twelve-thirty?”

 

“You got it in one, bud!”

 

“And this has nothing to do with the incoming horde of children?”

 

“ Whaaaat?” he said in that high-pitched way that might as well have set his pants on fire then and there. “Nah, no, absolutely not, they’re totally mutually inclusive.”

 

“Ex clusive.”

 

“That’s what I said!”

 

“So... what you’re saying is I have to do this by myself?”

 

“Weren’t you like a Scout leader or something?”

 

“Part-time volunteer assistant.”

 

“So what’s the problem? You’ll be fine! And nobody’s gonna get attacked by a wild animal or step on some poisonous grass in here. This’ll be a cake walk for you!” 

 

Hardly like police stations were the safest place in town either. Exuberant, boisterous children and angered, seething criminals were not a good mix. And Leon was never left alone whenever he volunteered with his boyhood Scouts chapter. Maybe in Raccoon City things were different, and sure there’d be at least one teacher, but back home there were always a ton of risk assessments and training days he had to go through to make sure he was prepared for anything should push come to shove. He could think of a million things that could go wrong.

 

“Awww,” moaned Kevin, “Don’t give me the sad face, bud, you’re making me feel bad!”

 

“Well, you could always just help me–”

 

“Tell you what! How about I give you our little secret weapon for when the kiddies come over?” 

 

“I guess that would be useful as an add-on but–”

 

“Great!” said Kevin eagerly as he began rummaging through his drawers that were worryingly filled with empty candy wrappers, an extremely lengthy paperclip necklace, and what he could only guess was a half-eaten sandwich wrapped in a metric ton of cellophane. 

 

“But I really think I need another person to manage that many kids for my first time, so if you could maybe–”

 

“A-ha! Found it!” 

 

So much for that. With all the horrors he witnessed and the occasional icky squelching emanating from Kevin's search he prayed it was at least in a plastic folder or something. Maybe a dossier with recommended activities or a suggested schedule for the morning. Really by now he’d take anything–

 

“Ta-da!”

 

… At this point Leon was more disappointed in himself for expecting more.

 

“Hey there, Leon, I’m Mr Raccoon!” said Kevin in a voice that sounded like feral cats had shredded his throat to pieces. Was that how the little red raccoon mascot was supposed to sound? Or was that unique to the police officer edition? 

 

“Well come on, chum! Say something!”  

 

Either way he wasn’t heading to Sesame Street anytime soon.

 

“Oh. Uh, hi there… little guy. It’s, uh, very… nice to meet you.”

 

Kevin waved around the little hand puppet in Leon's face, poorly matching its mouth movements with its speech, “My good friend Kev told me all about your little problem, and I’m here to help!”

 

“Oh, gee, thank you, Mr Raccoon–”

 

“Officer Raccoon.”

 

“Right. Thanks… Officer, but I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

 

“Awww why not?”

 

“It’s not you, it’s me. I’m just not much of a puppeteer. Not like Kevin at least.”

 

“Kevin is the best! And he’s really sorry about leaving you all by yourself. He’s definitely going to buy you a drink after work to make up for it!”

 

“Alright, apology accepted.” Clearly Kevin was incredibly uncomfortable around children, and it wasn’t as though Leon had any right to judge him for that just because he hadn’t yet identified any such problem areas for himself. They were partners – naturally there was going to be some give and take as long as they were going to be working together. “I’m gonna get going now if that’s all you have for me.”

 

“Good luck, Leon! And make sure to tell the boys and girls not to be naughty and use me for target practice! It just breaks my little heart!”

 

He laughed, the voice having endeared itself to him a little. “Sure.”

 

“No, really, Leon,” said Kevin, puppet down and decorum on display for once. “It’s some kind of weird challenge at school. There’s a whole campaign and everything, haven’t you seen the flyers? It actually seriously fucks them up and they keep coming into hospital with all the shards and shit. You have to make a big deal about it to get them to cut that shit out. Promise me.”

 

---

 

He liked kids. Really, he did. 

 

They were funny, especially in that all too serious way they spoke about the most unimportant things. It never failed to make him smile whenever he heard how something as mundane as spotting a pigeon on the sidewalk or a weirdly-shaped cloud in the sky developed into the talk of the day. Things grown-ups barely noticed were monumental. A child’s enthusiasm was as boundless as it was precious; something to treasure for its bright and brief nature.

 

It’s just…

 

Their enthusiasm was a lot louder indoors.

 

First came the questions.

 

“Who was the toughest bad guy you caught?”

 

A middle-aged woman who refused to accept a fine for parking in front of a fire exit.

 

“How many car chases have you gone on?”

 

Only one. Remarkably involving the very same woman for all of thirty seconds before she gave up, and decided to accept the fine for parking in an ambulance-only spot.

 

“Ooh ooh! Can I try your gun?”

 

Just like a kid can’t get behind the wheel of a car, a kid can’t handle a gun. Anyone who holds one is risking their own life as much as others’.

 

A phrase drilled into him from childhood that he was now passing on himself. Funny that. Maybe that kid would grow up to be a cop too.

 

It was a fairly positive note on which to begin the actual tour, and Leon was optimistic that he had tempered their excitability sufficiently. But just because they weren’t calling out non-stop didn’t make them any less of a challenge. 

 

Leon had very quickly given up on begging them not to turn the dials on the statues scattered around the station, something which he hadn’t even realised was a feature despite passing by them multiple times a day. Honestly, he was more impressed than anything; a bunch of curious sticky-fingered kids had beaten him to the punch and they rightfully deserved their natural detective skills praised. 

 

Unfortunately, he forgot that attention tended to reinforce the preceding actions and embolden children further, which was very quickly becoming a problem. For him. Though he was sure they wouldn’t make the statue explode with treasures like in the movies since there was no way the original curator hadn’t exhausted its secrets, he was fairly certain they weren’t meant to be handled so roughly. And he wasn’t being entirely metaphorical about their sticky fingers either. He did not want to find out what would happen to the idiot rookie who let kids who barely rose past his waist run wild and damage expensive artefacts.

 

Thankfully, Miss Novak dutifully supplied him with a wet wipe every time from her handbag – one that reminded him of his mother’s with how much she had tucked away in there that he was half-convinced it was magical. When he was a kid, of course. Just because he occasionally tried to get a peek inside now didn’t mean he really thought that anymore. It was just… that woman’s handbag was so deceptive in its size. Whenever he was sure her hands would come up empty, she’d promptly astonish him (his teachers never had three different inhalers on hand, that was for sure). There had to be some sort of secret compartment at least. Not to mention how lightning-fast her reflexes were. At one point a kid had sneezed and before Leon could say so much as a “bless you” a tissue had already materialised in the kid’s hand.

 

He was just thankful she hadn’t called him out for making it all up as he went along. He would constantly try to steer them into a room only to remember halfway through opening the door that they probably wouldn’t be allowed inside, and would quickly change the subject. The clocktower, for example, had great historical value that would have been very useful for eating up time. Leon had been incredibly eager to shepherd them inside and was just beginning his speech all about such a key part of the city’s identity when he suddenly realised that it was still being repaired and there was a chance (a very remote but very fatal one) that the large and extremely heavy antique bell could fall. He probably looked like a madman hustling them out as soon as he’d brought them inside. 

 

Which is how they’d ended up at the library. He still had about an hour or so to get through and he’d already exhausted all the child-friendly areas he knew about, so the library was as good a place as any to kill time. The kids, unfortunately, did not like this.

 

“Why is this place so boring?”

 

And they were not afraid to share their sentiments.

 

“I’m sorry it's a little quiet today,” said Leon. And really he was. Just his luck that on the day he needed to impress a bunch of children both STARS teams were out of office at the same time – Alpha was in mandatory training, Bravo was out in the field. “I think maybe if we could just–”

 

“This place blows!”

 

“Uh–”

 

“And it sucks!”

 

“Yeah! It sucks and it blows!” complained the kid who asked Leon to get his gun earlier. “Just like my dad says about his sec–!”

 

“Randy Howards! That is enough!”

 

Credit where it’s due, Miss Novak’s stern voice had even Leon going ramrod straight where he stood. God, was he glad to not be in school anymore. Oh, but were his palms sweating nonetheless. It was his last chance to deliver, he just knew it.

 

Think! If he were in their little light-up sneakers what would he want? 

 

A guide who knows what he’s doing.

 

Well, as his grandfather always said when Leon received yet another one of his disappointing  gifts of stationary supplies or plain JCPenney socks, beggars can’t be choosers. Didn’t matter how heavily he hinted at new fielding gloves ahead of game season when he was far too much of a cheapskate to ever– 

 

Wait. Games. 

 

“You guys ever heard of the cups game?”

 

A few shakes and a couple of ‘no’s lifted his mood like nothing else. He still had one trick up his sleeve. 

 

“It’s a really fun one. You guys paying attention? Here’s how it works: you’re gonna get into teams of say about,” he did a quick head count, “four, maybe one five. Each team gets three cups – kind of like three lives in video game–”

 

“I love video games!”

 

“Well then you’re gonna be a real pro at this!” Okay, this was promising. “I’m gonna quiz you guys on everything we’ve talked about this morning. If you get the question wrong, then your team loses a life. If you get it right, you’re safe. If a team gets a question wrong, there’s an opportunity to steal a cup if your team can give me the right answer. But three strikes and you’re out. Winner is the last team standing, or the one with the most cups by the end. Does that make sense?”

 

“What do we win?”

 

Prizes. Oh God, there was nothing he could possibly give them here. The fucking vending machine outside West Office was broken, so he couldn’t even cop out with candy. He mentally went through each floor methodically as though they hadn’t been bored throughout, as though Leon himself wasn’t constantly bored to frustration as a grown adult who was paid to do secretary work like filing and supplies and school tours, and only occasionally got to do actual policing like walking a damn beat or patrolling and if he wasn’t allowed out he could at least sometimes go down to the basement and drop by– 

 

Bingo.

 

“It’s a surprise,” he said, fighting the excitement thrumming through him. He made for the door before he could do something stupidly embarrassing like dance on the spot. “It’s a really good one though, so bring your brains to battle, okay?”

 

He turned to Miss Novak who was looking at him with pure relief that he now had a plan that would actually engage the kids for the first time on this tour. “If you could please just get them into teams, I’ll just get the cups from the coffee machine round the corner.”

 

“Yeah, no problem." She frowned, "But some heads up on this prize would have been nice so we could discuss it beforehand,” she half-snapped. Almost as though she caught herself she quickly followed up, “Not that – not that I don’t trust you, Officer! I just need to make sure that the kids are safe. Not that I’m suggesting you would–!… It’s just you know, because they, you know, have… all have different needs and whatnot. It’s not really me, it’s the parents,” she laughed nervously.

 

“Oh no need to explain.” Some parents were a little weird, he guessed. PTAs were taboo in his house for a reason. All those bored parents needing their power-fantasy fix made for a brutal force. It was so crazy that they could even set a teacher who’d seemed so put together on edge like that. “I really respect you for taking such good care of them, Miss Novak. I’m sorry it’s been a bit disorganised. It shouldn't have been the case and that’s on me. I’ll document for next time that these things should be discussed with teachers in advance. I’m still learning so your feedback is really helpful.” 

 

“Oh. Okay, sure,” she replied, looking thoroughly bewildered now. “Thanks. Sorry.”

 

"No need. Let's be honest, it's our department that dropped the ball here, right?" Still, she looked unsure of herself and hesitated to agree. Clearing his voice, Leon looked around before dropping his volume, “Unless they’re allergic to fur or have some kind of phobia, they’ll be fine.”

 

“Fur?” she asked, her surprise not affecting her from matching his whisper. “What kind of – ohhh.” She smiled for the first time that morning, and tapped her nose twice for good measure, “Ah, I see. They’ll really like that.”

Notes:

I'm sorry for the long break, it's been rough going. Next chapter is 60% done, promise. I know the slow-burn is hard, but I promise everything that happens in this fic is going to have an impact later on in some way. Rest assured there is no filler (even if it's very cute!) As society-man Joker once said: it's all part of the plan :)

Also yes, the bingo line was on accident, but as I typed that word I felt my brain expand to 10 times its original size. Truly based of Leon to be such a dork

Chapter 10

“Alright this is the tie-breaker. Are we ready?”

 

“To win? Always.”

 

“That prize is ours!”

 

“Okay okay.” Christ, it was worse than Madison Square Garden. “Focus up. This one goes all the way back to the beginning. What year was the RPD established?”

 

The groups entered huddle mode wherein they whispered so loudly Leon was sure the only reason cheating had so far been mercifully avoided was because they were so focused on their own internal discussions. 

 

Predictably the Power Rangers (their choice, not his) turned to the same girl in their team in hushed whispers: “Sherry! Sherry! Do you know the answer?” 

 

He was sure they would have won already if Leon didn’t occasionally step in to make another kid answer the question. Not that he would do the same now, but it wasn’t fair of them to stress out one kid with the burden of getting everything right. Even if they were one of the smart ones. And it definitely wasn’t fair when nobody had even picked her to be on their team; Miss Novak had done a bit of switching around to ensure she wasn’t left out. It didn’t even seem that she got a vote in picking the team name. They just lucked out and profited off her smarts.

 

“1929!”

 

As always Leon approached the team, leaning into his role as their game show host. He would go so far as to say he had a talent for it.“TMNT, is that your final answer?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Okay.” He knocked over their remaining cup, the sound lost to their outraged protests. “Sorry, Turtles, but you’re out.”

 

“Noooo!”

 

“We were so close!”

 

“Hush up, Turtles. We gotta hear the Power Rangers now.”

 

The room looked to the little blonde girl. Sherry. Timid yet confident, she answered, so quiet that Leon had to strain a bit to hear her, “Um, it was 1969.”

 

“And the Power Rangers have won! Round of applause, everyone!”

 

“It’s morphin’ time!” The quartet screamed, and yes, he really did mean scream. Everyone except for Sherry, though she cheered along with her own kind of enthusiasm, seemingly thriving off the others’. He couldn’t bring himself to care too much about how much trouble he’d get into over the noise when such a sweet kid was having fun like that.

 

 “Alright, way to go! You guys were really paying attention.”

 

“Yeah, we were!”

 

“Well,” he said, starting his own little bit of fun. Just a little wouldn’t hurt. “I guess it’s time to get you guys back to school, isn’t it? So let’s–”

 

“But what about the prize?!” 

 

“Yeah, you promised!”

 

“And a cop isn’t allowed to be a liar!”

 

“Ohhh. That prize.” He couldn’t help himself. In fairness for what he’d been through this morning, the teasing was more than justified. “Well, it just seemed you guys were having so much fun up here. I mean,” here he dug the knife in, “that’s its own kind of prize, isn’t it?”

 

“NO!”

 

“No?” He pretended to think for a moment, scratching his chin for added drama, “Well, you’ll have to be really good…”

 

“We will, we will!”

 

“And really quiet…”

 

“Watch! Zip!” exclaimed one girl who mimed along to solidify her commitment.

 

“And you’ll have to follow me in an orderly line downstairs where we’ll meet someone really special…”

 

He may as well have told them Santa Claus was waiting for them with how quickly and quietly they mobilised. He wasn’t sure if any of them still believed in him, but if they did it might be a bit of a let down to see an old Doberman instead of a magically all-seeing and all-powerful being. Now that he thought about it, maybe the one who didn’t believe in him would also be disappointed. What if they all were? 

 

No, Leon reasoned, he’d loved dogs at their age. He still did. Taking care of them whenever Tony wasn’t around was one of the few tasks he did around here that didn’t leave him feeling worse off afterwards. In fact it had the opposite effect on him. But then again, Leon had never had a pet, what with his parents being allergic and his landlord keeping a strict policy. Maybe that made it special to him? Suppose if he’d had a dog already he mightn’t have cared so much about another one? What if some of them already had pets? Oh God, what if they all had dogs? He couldn’t take them yelling at him again, he really couldn’t.

 

Uncertainty hitting its stride, he eventually led them to the kennels. The moment of truth, he supposed, as he opened the door leading to the play area. Most of the dogs were being borrowed by STARS today, but there was always one who stuck around, spending most of the day laying in bed. And today the old girl was awake too.

 

“So this is Petunia, everyone,” he began as he started stroking her fur to gently rouse her into standing. Luckily he was pretty familiar with her routine at this point. “Petunia, these are some of the kids from the local elementary school. Today, some of them are gonna feed you.”

 

“Ughhhhh!”

 

Oh no. It was lame. This was such a bad idea what was he–

 

“No fair! I wanna feed her too!”

 

“Yeah, I woulda paid way more attention if you’d told us about the dog!”

 

“Eddie,” cut in a severely displeased Miss Novak, “you are always supposed to pay attention to what adults are saying.”

 

“How about this?” said Leon, relieved his gamble had paid off. Sure, the beginning was rough, but the ending was what would really stick with them. “Team Power Rangers get their turn first, but everyone gets a chance to play with her afterwards, okay? Just promise me you’ll be really gentle. She’s not a very young one anymore, so don’t get upset if she just wants pets or falls asleep or something. Does that sound fair?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Alright, so let’s get to it. Power Rangers, assemble front and centre! I’m gonna hand you some of her treats and you’re gonna each take turns, okay? Palms flat and facing up.”

 

It was thankfully pretty simple. Feeding Petunia with one hand and petting her with the other was a calm pattern for dog and child alike. One of them – Randy Howards with the questionable father and budding gun interest – decided to liven things up by chucking up the biscuit instead of feeding it directly to her. Not what Leon had instructed, but the kid had an aim that spoke of experience in either sports or animals, or both even. 

 

Sherry, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. When it dwindled down to her she was so hesitant to approach the old dog. She clearly enjoyed watching the others play with her, but it seemed she was unsure of herself when it came to her turn. He was willing to bet she’d probably seen a lot of animals before, probably even liked them a lot too, but somehow never got the chance to actually interact with one, especially not one as large as Petunia. Which was weird when she had to at least be ten, but he wasn’t one to judge. Either way it seemed a gentle nudge was needed.

 

Crouching down to her level he beckoned for her to take that first step, “C’mon, she won’t bite.” Gently, he shook a couple of treats into her small hand as he scratched behind the Doberman’s ears to keep the dog extra relaxed. “Go on, it’s okay.”

 

“O-okay,” she said, scarcely a breath louder than a whisper, still unmoving from where she was rooted next to him. Perhaps another little nudge was warranted.

 

“I’m right here. I’m holding onto her the entire time, okay? Promise you won’t get hurt. But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. ”

 

This close up he could see her freckled cheeks reddening as she shook her head. “No, I want to.” 

 

She took a moment to brace herself. Then slowly, she began to lift her hand, trembling slightly as it neared Petunia who was patiently standing still. Prompting her with a pet of his own, she reared her head to lick the snacks clean off. Sherry kept perfectly still (and her palm flat) until it was over, inspecting her slimy hand afterwards curiously. She’d definitely never played with an animal before.

 

“It’s a little gross, huh?”

 

“I don’t mind it,” Sherry said shyly as she started petting the dog like a real pro, nervousness thoroughly knocked out of the park. She even copied his ear scratches from before. Fast learner for sure. Petunia seemed to think so as well – the old girl suddenly stretching upwards to give her a grateful lick on the cheek.

 

“That tickles!” she giggled softly. It was a quiet sort of excitement, but it warmed his heart to see her the most animated she’d been the whole day. The others took notice too, he could hear the oohs and ahhs as she’d wowed them with her natural gift. Good for her, honestly. She deserved her moment in the spotlight.

 

---

 

“What do we say, everyone?”

 

“Thank you!”

 

“Aw, no problem.”It was rough for a while, but he got there in the end. “Hope you guys learned a lot and had some fun too.”

 

“We certainly did, didn’t we?” said Miss Novak, looking back at the horde of children gathered in the main foyer. “But now we have to get back to school.”

 

“Boo!”

 

The ensuing fits of giggles soured her mood somewhat. Leon could see where this was going. “Randy,” she said severely, “one more crack like that and you’re going to detention.”

 

“‘Kay,” he replied, nonchalant like it was any other day. No big surprise there.

 

“In the jails downstairs.”

 

“You mean with all the criminals?” His eyes goddamn shone with excitement, “ Cool.” 

 

Leon tried not to take that one too personally. 

 

Miss Novak, however, faltered. Randy could see it just as well as Leon. “Well, you won’t think it’s so cool when–”

 

“Hey Leon!”

 

Oh boy.

 

“Officer Kennedy, Randy, please!” Not that Leon minded how he was addressed but Miss Novak was clearly fighting a lost battle regardless. Kid was on a roll.

 

“D’ya got any mob bosses?” he asked, as though he was picking out candy bars at the store. 

 

Maybe Leon should have shown them the jail cells. At least so they would understand that they don’t live in Little Italy with mafia dons and wiseguys running around like in the movies. 

 

“No, sorry.” Why the hell was he apologising?

 

“How about anyone who killed a guy using only his bare hands?” Randy asked, shaking his fists for effect.

 

“Randy!”

 

“Just put me in with the guy who killed the most people! Or you know, the chick who did if that’s who you got. I’m not, like, sexist or anything.”

 

“Well thank God for that!” said Miss Novak, taking his arm and pulling him away much to his protest. “Because we’re gonna have a little talk. Right now, Randolph Howards.”

 

Randolph?

 

“Aww come on!”

 

Oh wow, that explained everything. Poor kid. 

 

Did he even know what randy–?

 

“You know I work hard to keep it fine and randy for you guys!”

 

Oh yeah. He definitely knew.

 

“Every word adds another punishment, so keep talking and we’ll see what happens.” To Leon she asked, “Watch them a moment for me, would you?” as she shepherded the troublemaker off to a private corner. Gosh that kid was in for it. “Sorry about this one.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Only it wasn’t because–

 

Now that he was able to survey the rest of the children giggling away he finally noticed there was something was very wrong–

 

Cut off from the group there was a strange man–

 

And he had Sherry.

 

His legs made the decision before he did.

 

“Excuse me,” he called out, voice hard in a way he’d rarely exercised. Well fuck it, he was hardly going to mince his words around guys who cornered schoolgirls. Poor kid looked so scared too – there was no way in hell she knew him. Not in any friendly way, that was for damn sure. Fucking creep.

 

And to try his luck in a police station, no less! The balls of the old bastard, honest to God. Right in front of Leon too, as though he barely perceived him. The look on his face when he finally deigned to look at him – like he was just some fly that he couldn’t be bothered to hit just right now – with a shitty little half-smirk that wrinkled his grey moustache to match said as much. Not even so much as a ‘huh?’ in response to an officer asking for his attention. He was that confident that Leon wouldn’t do a thing against him. Who the fuck even was he? Leon had never even seen him before.

 

“Can I ask you to step away from the child please. Sir.”

 

The man scoffed, some of his spittle splattering Leon’s shirt. Gross. “Right,” he said snidely, breath stinking of cheap cigarettes, “yeah, sure.” He shook his head and turned right back to Sherry. 

 

What the fuck? Did he seriously not see his uniform? Or did he just not care about disobeying a direct order from an officer? Leon was getting so fucking sick and tired of this shit. Of being underestimated and brushed off and dismissed all the goddamn time. This time he was going to put a stop to it. It ended today.

 

“Step away,” he said again, harsher. That got the asshole’s attention; not so cool and calm now, was he? “Right now, please.”

 

His face narrowed into a nasty indignant little frown as he looked Leon up and down, like he was just seeing him for the first time and couldn’t quite believe his eyes. 

 

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

Get Sherry out of here. He can deal with this asshole once he’s sure she’s not gonna get caught up in whatever ugliness was about to unfold. That left eye twitch was not a good sign. Hopefully, Miss Novak was wrapping up.

 

“Come on, Sherry,” Leon said gently, giving her a little reassuring smile as he extended his arm out to her, “I’ll take you back to your friends, okay?”

 

Relief broke on her nervous face. Hurriedly, she nodded and rushed to his side; half-pressed against him, shielding herself. She could be his guest as far as he was concerned. He definitely made the right call. Not a moment too soon either, given the shaky little sigh he heard behind him. 

 

Turning back to the group (which thankfully had nobody else missing, thank Christ) he led her back to their safety, keeping her ahead of him the entire time. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight again. 

 

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

 

She jumped slightly; his chest ached. “Y-yeah. Thanks.”

 

“Are you up for talking about it later? With Miss Novak if you want.”

 

The tips of her ears reddened, her shoulders practically meeting them as she curled into herself. Her steps became just that bit faster. Fuck.

 

“You’re not in any trouble, I promise. I just want to find out who–”

 

“No way!” squealed an excited kid from the entourage. “Is that–?”

 

“Wow, that is so cool!”

 

“It’s Chief Irons!”

 

Perfect timing. He could meet him for the first time with a job well done and a creep in custody. Except–

 

“Hey there, boys and girls!”

 

And Leon’s blood froze. He stopped dead in his tracks, Sherry continuing on without him. Please, God, no.

 

“Welcome to the RPD!”

 

This was not happening. There was no fucking way. There was no way the guy now caught up with him, the guy he was sure had been the lowest form of dirt on the planet, the guy with whom he’d publicly argued, was his actual boss. 

 

“You kids enjoying yourselves, yeah?” the man – Chief Brian Irons – asked cheerfully. Like Leon hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life mere moments ago. “Let me guess – RC East, right?”

 

“Yeah How could you tell?”

 

“A good cop always knows!” he chortled mysteriously, the children thoroughly charmed. “Having lots of fun and learning all about the important work we do here to protect you?”

 

“Best fieldtrip ever!”

 

“Officer Kennedy taught us so much.”

 

“He even let us play with the dog.”

 

“Oh, did he now?” And Leon, who had been trying to get his attention since day one, was now the subject of it under the worst circumstances possible. He could hardly bear to meet the gaze he felt boring into his very being. 

 

Irons continued in that honey-sweet tone, “Well that’s just peachy. I’m sure you had a great time helping our newest recruit play around with all the nice doggies. And did you kids manage to find time to see some of the real police work?” Fuck, that hurt. “How about our STARS team? They’re very cool, aren’t they?”

 

“Actually, sorry, sir,” cut in Leon, dry mouth hampering his words, “but both teams are out of office today.” Shouldn’t the Chief know that?

 

He couldn’t afford to give that thought more time. Not when he felt the ire rise before it was unleashed. That twitch was a dead give-away. Shit.

 

“You accepted a tour,” Irons seethed, voice hushed so only Leon could hear thank God, but nonetheless deadly, “on one of the few dates a year that both of our very expensive STARS teams are scheduled off premises?” 

 

Then, just as quickly as it had appeared the rage extinguished. Irons shook his head in a way that had Leon feel the sting of disappointment so keenly, “Oh, son,” he sighed heavily, like he was truly sorry for him. “What the fuck are we gonna do with you?”

 

It was a kind of admonishment that left him reeling, totally unable to gather his thoughts that lay in shambles before him to even begin to hope to articulate his side of the story. He had a vague recollection of this not being his fault, but he was struggling to remember the sequence of events that led to this position in the first place. And before he could say anything at all in his defence, Miss Novak had returned with a more humbled version of Randy. Leon could empathise.

 

“Ah, you must be the new teacher!” Irons hollered, off like a shot to greet her. “Welcome! Good to meet you! I’m familiar with Oscar from last semester, but not you.”

 

“Chief Irons! What – uh, no, sorry!” she stuttered, blanching at being put on the spot. Irons was definitely a force to be reckoned with when it was focused on one person. Angry or happy, his passion combined with his large imposing frame that reverberated from his strong display of emotion was almost overwhelming, especially for a woman smaller than Leon when he himself was struggling despite being taller than him. She couldn’t be blamed for being a little nervous. “I’m Miss Novak.”

 

“Miss Novak!” he grabbed her hand for an enthusiastic shake. “Oh, I don’t believe that! You’re too pretty to not be married!”

 

She laughed weakly, loosening her hand and clutching it behind her back. “Thank you.”

 

“I’m not falling for that one, no siree! You gotta have a boyfriend at least!”

 

“I’m… I’m okay, thank you.”

 

“Don’t be shy now.”

 

She hesitated like her mind hadn’t quite made up what her body should be doing; a variety of hand gestures and facial movements were tried on and off, as though they were being tested and found to not work. She finally settled on pursing her lips firmly together. “Hmmm,” was her only response.

 

“Oh come on! There’s no way a girl as nice as you doesn’t have someone.”

 

Why was he pushing on this? She was clearly uncomfortable discussing her love life right in front of the kids? It was normal to find that a little awkward. Leon himself felt his palms itch at how off-putting this was. Neither of them were backing down for the moment, but it seemed that Irons was on the verge of proving true to his name. 

 

Couldn’t the man read the room and tell it wasn’t a good time to pull the old doting grandpa bit right now, and stop pinching cheeks and enquiring about the special day? Especially if she happened to not be straight – that complicated things further. Even when Leon was madly in love with Lisa he never let it slip to the Scouts he was chaperoning. It was weird to talk about these things with children nearby when they didn’t even understand why two people shared a bed. Actually, it was much worse when they did. 

 

God, Leon wanted to say something but what? Especially when he was number one on his shit list? 

 

“She said she’s okay,” piped up an unlikely source. Randy. Chin up and an impressive scowl as he held his ground, “And Miss Novak always told us we’re allowed to keep some stuff to ourselves if we want. Even if our best friend asks us. We don’t have to say stuff that's private.”

 

Kudos to him. Leon was sure he was probably thinking it was cool to stick it to the man, but to do that and defend his teacher even after she berated him was incredibly impressive. He was a good kid at heart.

 

“Oh, and who is this sporting young man?” Irons chuckled, slightly off-key. “A future lawyer perhaps?”

 

“He’s not–”

 

“I’m Randy Howards.”

 

“Oh.” The smirk was wiped clean off his face. “Josh’s boy.” He hesitated a moment before ruffling the boy’s hair, much to his displeasure, like he’d known him for years. He probably did. Irons seemed to know everybody important. “Your dad is a real stand-up guy, son. A good man. Very good man, indeed. A credit to this city. Tell him the Chief of Police thanks him for his kind philanthropy. Do you know what that word means?”

 

“Sir,” interrupted Leon, after finally finding his voice. Randy eagerly took the distraction to restyle his hair. “Miss Novak mentioned they were pressed for time, so I think they need to get going or they’ll miss their classes.”

 

“What a shame.” He was back to sugary-sweet for the room. “I was just saying earlier it would have been good for you to see all the important work our STARS division does for our city. They’re very cool.”

 

Leon felt the chill run up his spine and settle in his stomach..

 

“Well, well, boys and girls!” Irons clapped his hands enthusiastically. “Back to class for you. I’ll see you all at the city fair in a little while.” He waved to them gleefully before turning back to Miss Novak for a brief but tight hug, much to the woman’s delayed response as though she wasn’t sure where to place her hands. “I’ll leave you in the very capable hands of your very nice young teacher. Bye!”

 

The rest of the class waved eagerly as he left. “Bye!”

 

It was only another moment until the bus driver came rushing in, panting from the exertion. “Gina!” he called out breathily. He doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. “Hey, look we gotta get going now! We’re late enough as it is, and I’m not parked in an actual spot.”

 

“Right, okay,” she said, dazed somewhat. “Uh, guys, if you can get in your pairs, please? Mr Clift will do the head count, thank you. Just give me a moment here.”

 

Guiding Randy, she made her way over to Leon who stood awkwardly fixed in the same spot he’d frozen up in with Sherry. Christ, that felt like a whole lifetime ago.

 

“Excuse me, Officer Kennedy,” she said gently, “Randy has something he would like to say.”

 

“Do I have to?” he whined, arms crossed defensively.

 

“Randy,” she said, clearly exhausted. “Please?”

 

“Ugh, fine.” To his credit the kid straightened up and spoke properly, and if not for his fingers fidgeting constantly he would have been a true grown-up in that moment, “I’m sorry for interrupting a lot. And I’m sorry for the way I talked to you. And I’m sorry I was rude and…” confused, he looked to his teacher for support, “grass?”

 

“Crass. We’ll work on that one later, but well done, Randy.”

 

“No worries. I accept your apology, Randy, thanks. It means a lot, really.”

 

“‘Kay,” he mumbled, dejected. Fuck that Leon wanted to wallow in self-pity; this kid more than deserved a pick-me-up.

 

“Hey, for what it’s worth? None of those guys downstairs ever said sorry for the things they did. What you did there,” and he wasn’t just talking about the apology, “that took a lot of guts those guys don’t have, okay?”

 

“Really?” the boy perked up.

 

“Absolutely. Taking responsibility is one of the hardest things to do.” Jesus, Leon did not think he’d ever share so much in common with a ten-year-old boy, but here he was when they both had egg on their face. “Believe me, you’re more man than all of them put together.”

 

“Thanks,” he said, smiling and apple-cheeked. “For what it’s worth… I think… ah geez! You’re… you’re not totally uncool either,” he mumbled in one big jumble before scrambling off to join the rest of the group. Leon didn’t mind; once he had a moment to sort through the sounds he was actually quite touched. He knew coming from a boy his age that was the biggest compliment there ever was to receive. 

 

“You’re not gonna be too hard on him?” he asked Miss Novak.

 

“He’s a good boy really,” she replied, distracted by the swarm of children assembling. “Very sweet. Just also a bit…”

 

“Try-hard.”

 

She shrugged. “He’ll grow out of it, I’m sure. Just needs a bit of help and direction.”

 

“Well, you seem to have it sorted.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“And about the Chief…” What was he meant to say here? “I know back there was a bit–”

 

“It’s fine.” Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about it. Whatever it was. He wasn’t really sure what part of it was the problem.

 

“I think he was just in a bad mood,” he found himself rationalising for God knows what reason. “I kinda – I sort of said some things and… did some things that upset him. Plus there was the whole STARS issue.”

 

“Bad mood,” she said, tasting the words like they were some horrible joke. Being embarrassed in front of her students certainly fit that bill. “Uh huh. That tracks.”

 

“I’m sure he’s not really like that normally. He does a lot of charity efforts, right?”

 

“Oh yes, that abused women’s charity,” she said through gritted teeth, glaring at the floor like it had personally offended her. “He certainly puts on a good show.”

 

“What?” She couldn’t really mean… “What do you mean by that?” Was Leon’s gut reaction actually–?

 

“Never mind,” was her firm dismissal. Leon felt like he was back in school being told that was that – to not speak any further unless he wanted a ticket to detention. 

 

“Okay, but–”

 

“The trip was good by the way.”

 

Was she being serious? He couldn’t just let it go! He needed to know was he in the wrong, or was the Chief of Police someone with a secret unsavoury side? That was vital for the public to know! The rest of the force included! How could she not see that?

 

“Oh, no, really it wasn’t, and the Chief–” 

 

“No, I think you did a great job with them,” she continued, eager for the change in subject. 

 

“Shouldn’t we–?” 

 

“Sherry especially was a big win.”

 

He sighed, exasperated. She wasn’t going to budge. He may as well play along, maybe curry favour for a later time when she’d be more up for talking. If he played his cards right he might even be able to get a statement about what she’d heard, should his worst fears be confirmed. “She’s a good kid. I didn’t really do anything.”

 

“She’s perfect.” Under her breath she added, “Almost a little too perfect.”

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

“You gave her a moment to shine. That’s pretty big for a girl who has such trouble coming out of her shell. It was a good thing you did for her. A lot of people don’t have time for patience like that.”

 

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

 

“And your boss can say what he likes,” she pressed on, his protests ignored again, “but as an educator this was a good experience. A little rough yeah, but overall it was solid. The school district requires trips like these to civic centres, and the city mandates the RPD. Call me crazy, but if it were up to me I wouldn’t take schoolchildren to police stations at all. I don’t want to expose them to dangerous situations. Or people.” His stomach flipped. How was she managing so much better than him? 

 

“My point is, you delivered the best outcome, especially given how you were obviously roped in last minute for the job. Am I wrong?”

 

Wryly, he replied, “Last second, more like.”

 

“Well quizzes and dogs are good choices for kids. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Besides, the RPD gets enough glory – in my opinion, anyway. STARS is not cheap, you know.”

 

“Thanks.” She was a very good teacher. “You know I’m RPD too, right.”

 

“I’m aware of who you are, Officer Kennedy,” she said, offering him a handshake which he accepted. “And where you are. Don’t you forget that.”

Notes:

Leon has Dumb Man Syndrome. This includes features such as: recognising women being in discomfort but not recognising misogynistic behavior from authoritarian figures and a subsequent failure to respond appropriately, wanting to remain in denial and thereby unwittingly defending these entrenched cultural gender norms, and a failure to recognise systemic intimidation and abuse of power himself and placing the blame on the shoulders of others.

Basically, he's a little confused but he's got the right spirit at heart. He's just got to do a lot more growing to get over this eyes wide shut thing he's got going on. But it also means he's gonna do and say and think things that are very tiring for some readers (and the writer). Trying my best to handle it appropriately!