Chapter Text
Leon didn’t always know what he wanted to do when he grew up, but he did know he wanted to become someone his late parents would have been proud of. They’d passed away in an unfortunate car accident when he was two, leaving him no real memories of the pair. After being bounced around in the foster system for a while, he was finally taken in by a kind man and his wife.
He was the same police officer who had pulled Leon out of the wreck that had taken his parents, and only a few years later, he and his wife were able to adopt him. Seeing how much good one person could do inspired him to pursue a career in law enforcement himself, so he studied and trained, determined to join the force as soon as he was old enough.
More than a few of his classmates and even teachers tried to push him to join the military instead, telling him with his determination and book smarts, he could easily join as an officer. If he didn’t want to spend time getting a college degree first, he could enlist and work on switching career paths after he had a few years and medals under his belt.
It was his best friend Chris who convinced him not to join the military and instead go for the police force. Leon joked that it was to keep him from making Chris look bad, as he’d already been put on the fast track for some Air Force early acceptance program.
All in all, Leon was excited for the big changes on the horizon. Although the last year of school was a drag without Chris since he’d already shipped off to boot camp, they exchanged letters and texts when the latter’s training and work schedule wasn’t too heavy.
He did manage to get some time off to come home for Leon’s graduation, and they spent a couple of days catching up. Chris was kind enough to give his friend some last minute training tips, and only a day after he shipped back out, Leon was preparing for his first day at the police academy.
It was… not nearly as intense or challenging as Leon had been expecting. Thanks to all the time he’d spent studying, working out, shooting, and learning hand to hand combat, he jumped to the top of his class within a week. It earned him a lot of snide nicknames from his fellow trainees, and although he never went out of his way to ingratiate himself to the higher ups, he started hearing a lot of comments about being a brown noser behind his back…
Ignoring them was easy enough, although holding his temper started to get harder and harder as time went on. He knew if he could just make it to graduation and get into the police department of his choice, things would get easier. Not right away, since he knew he’d still have to learn the ropes of his new job, but it would get better…
And for a little while, he was right.
Graduation day came, and with it, the offer to join his first choice. The Racoon City Police Department.
Racoon City was a decent drive from where he’d grown up with his adopted family, but it was where he’d been born and it was the city his parents had died in. If he was going to make a difference, he wanted to start somewhere meaningful.
His reception to the department was warmer than he’d expected, given the tension that had quickly taken over his days in the academy. His training officer had been a patient, competent man called Marvin. With over twenty years on the force under his belt and getting close to retirement, he’d asked to take the new Rookie under his wing as soon as he’d seen his paperwork.
At first, Leon had assumed it was to keep an eye on him. The department had likely heard the ‘horror stories’ that came out with every class and wanted to make sure he was actually competent at his job. That he had actually earned the position at the top of his class and not just sweet talked his way into the valedictorian spot.
All of those worries went out the window when he was led inside to his new desk by one of the other officers. Inside the shared office space, a small ‘Welcome Leon’ banner and some balloons, along with cake, punch, and his new mentor.
“Don’t feel too welcome,” Chief Irons warned, although a small smile made his mustache twitch. “You’ve got to get into your desk before you can start your first day.”
The warning didn’t do anything to help him, but actually finding the ‘keys’ to the locks that had been added to his desk was a simple enough matter. All he had to do was talk to his new desk mates a bit more, and the letter combos were quickly revealed.
It was a good first day, and for a while, Leon really did feel like his life was on track. Just as his first year at RPD was coming to a close, Marvin dropped a thick file on his desk, a grim expression on his face.
Looking up from the report he was filing, the rookie asked, “Everything alright? You’ve got that same look you get when Chief Irons takes the last of the coffee and doesn’t refill the pot.”
“Remember that special ops program the Chief recommended you for? Well, you got in,” Marvin informed him, forcing a smile. “You’ve earned it.”
Slowly picking up the file, Leon asked slowly, “Then… why do you not sound like you’re happy about it?”
“You do learn fast,” Marvin chuckled, before sighing. “It’s not the program, and it’s not you, Leon. You’re a good kid and you’ve got a lot of potential. More than a police department can put to good use anyway… It’s who’s been assigned as your trainer…”
Pulling a face, Leon half joked, “Oh, does she not take kindly to suave charm and undeniable charisma?”
Marvin gave him a blank stare. All of them knew he was horrible at flirting with women. Thankfully, all the gals at the knew thought his fumbled jokes and stammered attempts at compliments were meant with sincerity, leading to more ongoing jokes than any real issues.
“He… is a hardass,” his trainer finally said. “Major Jack Krauser. Medically retired from the US Army Special Forces, he served an unknown number of years leading some of the best top secret teams across the world.”
“Unknown number of years?” Leon repeated, flipping the file open. “How does that work?”
“That’s all the information we have,” Marvin explained. “His file is so goddamn redacted, there are times I seriously question if his name really is Jack Krauser, or if that’s been changed for some reason too.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, flipping a couple of pages. Pausing when he was met with what he first likened to a mugshot, he studied the battle hardened, stern face scowling back at him. Despite the rather large scar stretching from above his left eye all the way down to his chin, he wasn’t unattractive.
“That man has sent more people to Jesus than a church,” Marvin grunted, tapping the top of the photo. “I can’t say I’ve ever had the… pleasure of working with Major Krauser, but I’ve met a few people who have. He’s got a reputation as ugly as a pig's ass, so be careful. I would tell you to work hard, but I know you’re going to do that anyway, so all I’ll say is… Watch your ass. Krauser is dangerous and a lot of his trainees don’t make it to graduation day.”
That set off more than a few alarm bells in the rookie’s head, and he looked up from the file. “I’m sorry? What’s he doing? Eating them?”
That got a small laugh out of Marvin, before he corrected more seriously, “Training related injuries. He’s known to push his people to their limits, and then keep pushing. I’ve seen too many reports of young, capable cadets being forced to retire before they can even get their careers off the ground due to extreme muscle or bone injuries.”
Glancing at the file as the previous comment about Krauser’s ‘unknown years’ of service echoed in his head, Leon asked critically, “If he’s messing up so many recruits, why is he still a trainer?”
“Because he’s the best at what he does. Despite the amount of critical failures, he’s got the highest success rates in the US,” Marvin elaborated. “The program he’s a part of isn’t a state program. It’s government.”
“Hence the mile long list of recommendations, transcripts, and medical records you’ve been hounding me to collect for the past three months,” the rookie acknowledged. “I’m guessing you had no idea who I’d be assigned to.”
“We don’t know until we get the paperwork back,” the older cop admitted. “And that’s if we’re not getting back a rejection. Recommendations only go so far. You got you into this program, not me or Chief Irons. Your hard work and dedication got you to where you are. I’m proud of you, kid.”
Leon barely registered the pat on his shoulder before Marvin was heading back to his office. A sense of pride and accomplishment bloomed inside him. It was like a fire being lit by a tiny spark, and he spent the rest of the day with a smile on his face.
In the weeks leading up to his start date, Leon threw himself into his physical training with renewed vigor. He refused to be one of the ‘casualties’ of Krauser’s training. He didn’t need or care about being at the top of the class, but he was determined to graduate and prove that Marvin’s faith in him was justified.
During his last shift at the RPD before he was due to leave, Marvin pulled him aside before he could turn in his service weapon. Stepping out into the hall for a bit more privacy, Leon was hit with some unexpectedly bittersweet news.
“I’m retiring…” Marvin told him, a sad smile on his face. “I’ve been putting it off and putting it off, but it’s time. I’m just sorry about the timing. You’ll only be about halfway through your classes when my day comes.”
“No, no, I’m happy for you,” Leon promised, and he meant it. Although it would have been great to work with him for a few more years, he was happy for his friend and short term mentor. Still, he had to ask, “Is this because of that crack-head that bit you a couple of weeks ago?”
Pursing his lips, Marvin nodded. “Yep. Pretty sure it’s getting infected. I’m probably going to turn into a zombie right here in the lobby if I don’t get help soon.”
Sharing a laugh, the pair carried on with their nights from there, and before long, Leon found himself packing up his things as he readied to start the next chapter of his life. If only he’d known just how dramatically things were going to change, he likely never would have accepted the position…
Arriving at his new ‘home’ for the next six months, Leon was shown to his assigned sleeping bay. It looked a lot like an airport hanger full of lockers and bunk beds, but he didn’t complain. Stowing his bag of extra clothes in the locker beside his bed, he was shown the showers, mess hall, rec room, gym, and various other areas.
Although it wasn’t one, it felt like living on a military base and Leon couldn’t help but feel like he’d been swept into a pool of brand new Privates, not up and coming officers hoping to advance their careers with specialized training.
Training didn’t start until the next morning, giving Leon the chance to actually settle in a bit and try to get used to his new surroundings. There wasn’t a lot to do, as most of the trainers were off sight for the weekend. Most of them lived out of state and only stayed on site during the week for classes, spending the weekends at a nearby hotel paid for by the company. The others lived close enough that they were able to commute back home at the end of every day.
For the recruits, they weren’t allowed to leave the training center until graduation day, unless given express permission. Leaving early or trying to sneak out would be met with harsh punishments, often including expulsion from the program.
Finding the on site ‘library’, Leon booted up one of the ancient computers so he could email Chris. They’d been in contact as much as they could, and his friend was openly worried about how things would go. The general consensus seemed to be that Krauser was dangerous. He was mean, despised those he saw as weak, and wielded his power like Zeus wielded lightning bolts.
Assuming that was more of the mythical status surrounding the Major, Leon had been shocked to find out that Chris had actually briefly worked with Krauser on three separate occasions. He couldn’t go into much detail, as the nature of all three meetings were highly classified joint operations between the Air Force and… whoever the hell Krauser was working for after his ‘retirement’. Some contractor that Chris either didn’t know or couldn’t name. He didn’t specify and Leon didn’t ask.
A little surprised to find not one but two new emails from his friend waiting for him, he opened them up to some rather concerning messages. Again, Chris didn’t go into much detail, but he made it clear something strange was going on and he wanted to make sure that if ‘anything happened to him’, someone would be aware that his sudden radio silence wasn’t a normal thing.
Responding as positively as possible, Leon made sure to send messages to his parents and to Marvin as well. All of them had been nothing but supportive, and he’d promised his old mentor he’d keep him posted even after his retirement.
There wasn’t much to do after that, so Leon spent the early part of the evening putting his stuff away properly. Still left with too much time on his hands, he wandered around to look for food. He knew they were supposed to be fed three meals a day while on campus, but he wasn’t sure if the cafeteria had snacks they could munch on throughout the day or not. They did, and he grabbed a premade ham sandwich and a bottle of apple juice.
Just as he was straightening up from grabbing his drink out of the vending machine, he bumped into someone directly behind him. Turning, he started to excuse himself when he caught sight of who he’d just stepped into.
“Hi! Sir. Hello, Kr– Major. Major Krauser, sorry,” he rambled, unable to stop staring at the mountain of a man whose toes he was nearly standing on. Dear god, he was embarrassing himself. Clearing his throat, he offered his hand… and bottle of juice, as he said, “Leon S. Kennedy, sir. I’ll be training under you, starting tomorrow.”
Krauser finally blinked, mercifully breaking the icy stare he’d been pinning the smaller man with. Unfortunately, it was to slowly look Leon up and down. Twice. Brow furrowing, he grunted wordlessly before not so gently shouldering the rookie aside so he could reach the vending machine himself.
Shifting uncomfortably as he stood to one side, Leon considered whether or not it was worth trying to smooth over such an awkward first meeting, or just let it go. He hadn’t arrived expecting to be friends with his new trainor, but he’d hoped to at least make a good impression. He was hard working, dedicated, he wanted to be there, and most importantly, he’d earned being there and he wanted to prove it.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the machine, Krauser didn’t spare him so much as a glance as he strode from the room.
Well… that could have gone worse. The next morning, he learned just how much worse!
The entire bay was woken up by the lights being flicked on at four AM, followed by a rough voice booming through the hanger like a grenade. With words harsher than a sleep deprived drill sergeant, their new trainor had every single one of them out of bed and dressed in their morning gear within five minutes. It would have been three, but one poor soul had the misfortune of tangling himself in his pants before falling over, loudly knocking over one of the standing lockers and bringing the Major down on himself in spectacular fashion.
Instead of yelling and screaming in the recruit’s face, Krauser stalked over and stood silently over him, crossing his arms as the recruit struggled to right himself. As soon as the man was on his feet, the scarred blond grabbed his shoulder, guiding him to the center of the room.
“Attention!” he snapped, and the rest of them quickly stood at the ends of their beds. None of them dared look at one another, eyes fixed on Krauser and their fellow trainee.
Pointing at the man with a stiff hand, Krauser spoke loudly enough for the entire hanger to hear as he explained, “We are now late. We are late because this idiot puts his pants on like a child. I do not teach children. I do not teach you to put on your fucking clothes. I teach you to stay alive. If you cannot even put your goddamn pants on in the morning, you will not survive this course, much less the soccer moms at McDonald’s, which is where you will be working if you continue to be such a goddamn fuck up in my presence!”
Leon expected that to be the end of it, as the instructor watched the man hastily pull up his pants. He fumbled getting his belt on, having forgotten to pre-loop it the night before, but he finally got it buckled and looked up at the Major expectantly. Opening his mouth, he had just gotten out the ‘S’ for ‘sorry’, when Krauser popped him in the mouth.
It took several seconds after the man hit the floor for the majority of the bay to realize what had happened, and even more for it to sink in that someone had just stepped out of line to shout, “Hey!”
Eyes narrowing, Krauser slowly turned to face Leon. Mouth curving in a thin smile, he asked, “Did I address you, or are you just that eager to become a part of the lesson?”
Not backing down, he questioned, “You really think hitting someone in the mouth for trying to apologize is a good way to train them?”
“I do… Apologizing is a show of weakness, and weakness gets you killed. Almost as fast as fighting another man’s battle for him. Are you going to die because your fellow soldier is too fucking weak to carry his own shit?”
Leon wasn’t a soldier. He didn’t need to be to stand up for someone. Still, arguing with his higher ups wasn't going to solve the problem. Biting his tongue, he answered as evenly as he could, “Considering this isn’t a battlefield, sir… I think hitting him in the mouth was a bit extreme.”
Nodding slowly, Krauser started to laugh. Grabbing the recruit he’d previously punched, he shoved him back into line before inviting, “Come here, rookie. If you want to fight his battle so damn badly, come fight it.”
Freezing for a moment, Leon felt every eye in the bay on him. Some were curious. Most were judging. How things played out next could very well affect his standing with his peers, just as it would have in the police academy.
He had no doubt Krauser was a master of hand to hand combat and would wipe the floor with him. He accepted that. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. If he walked up to Krauser pretending he knew everything and had a hope of winning, he’d be labeled as a cocky, arrogant prick.
But if he refused to fight, he would face the opposite problem. He’d be singled out and labeled as weak and cowardly amongst his peers, and probably by them. It would make getting a good grade a lot more difficult and could harm his chances after graduation. No one wanted to walk away from a school like that with a bad reputation hanging over their head.
Hoping for the best, Leon stepped out of line to face Krauser. Trying to lighten the mood, he joked, “So, I guess I shouldn’t apologize if I actually manage to hit you, huh?”
The look of disgust on Krauser’s face hurt. Not nearly as much as his knee connecting with the young cop’s stomach did, but still. They both hurt in their own ways.
In the end, Leon didn’t land a single hit, nor did he apologize once. He didn’t get an apology either, although it would have done nothing to make him feel better. He felt like he got hit by a truck. Kind of looked like he got hit by a truck as well. Still, he forced himself to his feet over and over, refusing to back down.
For his part, Krauser was kind enough to wait for him to get back up and get his balance before hitting him again. Every strike was followed by some form of criticism. A snide comment about his form, his speed, or his blind spots.
Legs shaking almost too much for him to stay upright, Leon wiped blood off his mouth. His entire body hurt and his arms felt like lead. But he wouldn’t give up. Almost flinching when Krauser raised his arm, he was shocked when he checked his watch instead.
“Look at that. Breakfast is over… All of you. Training room, now. You’ll be doing drills until lunch. You can thank the rookie here for that.”
Without another word on the matter, Krauser strode from the room. The door slammed behind him, and the silence that had prevailed during their ‘sparring match’ vanished under an angry murmur. No one in the bay was particularly happy with the way their first day had started and all of them blamed him.
Well, moping wouldn’t do him any good. Trying to take a step towards his bunk so he could rest for a minute, his knees gave out. Hitting the floor, he blinked dizzily. Shit, he may actually be kind of hurt… Okay, yeah, he was kind of fucked. And, yeah. No one was gonna help his ass up. Great first day…
It was another twenty minutes after the last recruit was gone that Leon managed to scrape himself off the floor. Leaning heavily on the bed, he double checked that nothing was broken before hobbling to the bathroom.
Staggering to the sink, he winced. Blood was still seeping from several small cuts on his arms and face, along with the mess from his nose and lip. He looked like he’d been mugged by a gorilla.
Rinsing the blood off, he forced himself to drink some water before heading to the training room. Keeping his head down as he entered, he stiffened when a voice directly behind him warned, “You’re late, rookie. Front of the line. Now. We’re learning some basic defence. Which clearly you need.”
It was a very, very long day… By the end of the first week, Leon was pretty sure he’d died and was in Hell. He had to be. Breathing was torture by that point. His muscles hurt from a combination of bruises and relentless physical training. If he hadn’t had two days off for the weekend, he was pretty sure he would have had to crawl back to Racoon City in shame.
All day Saturday was spent laying in bed sleeping off his near overdose of ibuprofen. It was the only non-prescription medicine they were allowed to have, and he took as much as he possibly could without poisoning himself.
Sunday saw Leon shuffling through the motions of being a human being. That meant eating at least one meal, showering, and running a brush through his hair. He missed his hair products but it would have to do for the time being…
As he was hobbling back from the showers, he almost bumped into Krauser again. Quickly stepping to the side, he waited for something else to happen. All week, the Major had been going after him with nearly single minded intent. Any opportunity to demonstrate something new and or painful saw Leon being ‘voluntold’ into helping.
But that time, Krauser simply walked by. It was as if he didn’t exist outside of training hours. Once the man was behind him, Leon continued his walk in the opposite direction. Most people would have assumed that was it. They’d passed in the hall without a single word spoken or even a glance from superior to subordinate.
But Leon wasn’t most people, and the second the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he instinctively lurched forwards. Twisting his body as he lunged, he wasn’t sure what surprised him more. The fact that he had been right and his seemingly ‘out of nowhere’ dodge to the side had been necessary, or catching his own look of shock reflected in the blade of Krauser’s knife as it slashed through the air right in front of his face.
Stumbling back as his sore, tired muscles aggressively protested the sudden activity, Leon was certain he wouldn’t be able to dodge or block a follow up attack. He was right, not seeing the fist that connected with his ribs or the boot that hooked his leg to throw him onto his back on the floor.
Wheezing as he struggled to get his breath back, he didn’t have the strength to flinch when Krauser’s face appeared over him. Lip pulling back in a sneer, he growled, “Pathetic, rookie. You let your guard down like that in a real world scenario, you die.”
Coughing quietly as he forced his battered body into a sitting position, Leon smartly asked, “Where are you from? Detroit?”
Krauser snorted, shaking his head as the smaller man staggered to his feet. Looking at him, he admitted, “Clever,” before slamming the hilt of his knife into his diaphragm. Watching him drop like a rock, the Major started to walk away. Not pausing, he called back over his shoulder, “You should quit while you’re ahead, rookie. You’re not cut out for a life like this, so walk out while your legs can still carry you.”
Curled into a ball, it was all Leon could do to decipher what he was hearing over the rushing of blood in his ears. So, Krauser wanted him to quit? Looked like all those warnings about the Major weren’t so embellished after all. At least he’d been warned. Krauser on the other hand, had no idea what he was in for.
Leon was stubborn as a mule. His adopted parents had said it, his teachers had said it, Chris had said it, even Marvin had said it on more than one occasion. Once he’d set his mind to something, there was nothing that could dissuade him.
Clenching his teeth, Leon forced himself off the floor one more time. Casting a determined glare down the hall after his trainer, he only felt more sure of himself as he thought, ‘Unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, huh? Alright. Let’s see which one gives in first.’
The following week was a lot of the same, but Leon felt like he was handling it better. He still ended up bruised and bloody on the floor at least twice per training day, but he never once considered quitting. Every time Krauser pinned him with a cold, unreadable stare, he’d meet his gaze, holding it for as long as he could. It wasn’t meant as a direct challenge, but as a promise. He was there to stay and no one was going to scare him off.
That weekend, Leon spent his time more carefully. Although during the week Krauser seemed to stick to a rigid routine with little deviation, the weekends were spent prowling around the campus, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.
After a successful two days of avoiding Krauser, Leon was forced into another unavoidable confrontation first thing Monday morning. Although the bay had gotten waking up, getting dressed, and out the door down to a tidy two and a half minutes by the middle of the second week, they were still expected to hit the training room for ‘warm ups’ before breakfast. A ‘special addition’ to their training, thanks to ‘first day attitude from certain individuals’.
That morning was no different, and as soon as they were in the room, Krauser ordered them to pair up for sparring. Of course, he also pulled one of the recruits out to use as a demonstration for what he was going to teach that morning.
“Rookie, up front. Now,” Krauser barked, and a snicker rippled through the room.
Despite all of them technically being ‘rookies’ by training standards, the Major had singled out Leon to address solely by the title. The name itself didn’t bother him, but rather the way it was hurled like an insult.
Stopping in front of Krauser, Leon dropped into a relaxed stance as their instructor began verbally explaining what he was going to do, what he wanted them to look out for, and how many times he wanted them to run through it. It was a disarming maneuver… Perfect. Instead of waiting for the man to make the first move or even fully turn to him, Leon struck.
Lashing out with a leg, he managed to force Krauser off balance enough that he wasn’t instantly knocked down when he darted in close. Actually landing a solid hit to his ribs, Leon took his chance. His fingers had just wrapped around the handle of the Major’s knife when he felt a fist grab his hair. Shit.
Yanked backwards and nearly off his feet, Leon was just grateful not to be scalped when he was flung away. Staggering, he caught his balance in time to see the look of surprise still on Krauser’s face as he secured his weapon.
Eyes narrowing just as quickly, his gaze lingered for a moment before he grunted, “Not bad…”
With that, he turned to address them all as a group, asking if they knew where Leon had gone wrong, and what could have been done differently. He barely heard it, still stuck on the almost compliment he’d gotten.
Things continued to change after that. Slowly at first, but still noticeably compared to his previous, almost hateful predation, Krauser’s attention to the recruit began to shift. His gaze was still heavy when he’d turn it on Leon, that hadn’t changed. What had was the way the wheels in his head seemed to turn. It wasn’t respect, but it wasn’t the same contempt either. Maybe he was starting to see the potential he’d initially dismissed as bull headedness.
The rest of week three and all of week four went the same way. Leon was still singled out during most training, but as he improved, the way Krauser looked at him changed as well. It was odd, and he wished he had someone he could talk to about it. Unfortunately, his options were incredibly limited for the time being.
He still refused to drop the heavy moments on Marvin, keeping any news he sent him short and on the brighter side, while Chris’s emails were starting to get fewer and further between. There was no one at the academy that he could talk to either. His first day ‘heroics’ hadn’t earned him any goodwill with his fellow trainees, with most of them still calling him ‘Rookie’ behind his back, mirroring Krauser even though it did nothing to ingratiate them to the man.
The first obvious change came two months into the six month course. After a particularly intense round of sparring that saw Leon hobbling away with enough bruises to file a domestic abuse charge, Krauser waited for him to get to his feet before allowing, “You’re improving. And here I didn’t think you had it in you. Keep it up, pretty boy.”
The silence that filled the room was loud. A couple of people coughed quietly, no one wanting to break the silence, but all with a thousand very loud questions they didn’t dare ask.
Grabbing his water bottle, Krauser stated, “I said what I said,” before dismissing them. When everyone continued to linger, his expression changed to the much more recognized and feared scowl they knew him by, and he snapped, “Get out of my fucking sight!”
Leon started noticing more changes a lot faster after that. Although he still wasn’t given an ounce of leeway or a single commodity that might so much as hint at favoritism, he and everyone else could see it.
The way Krauser would watch Leon spar when he was paired with someone else was… very different. Although the rookie did his best to ignore it and focus on his training, he could feel the Major’s eyes on the back of his neck throughout the day, studying him and sizing him up with a strange, unfathomable intent…
Three days after the ‘pretty boy’ incident, a situation came up that Leon often looked back on as being the point of no return. If he’d swallowed his pride and just followed his gut, maybe everything that followed that day could have been avoided…
“Hey, pretty boy!” a voice laughed.
Keeping his eyes forward, Leon ignored the taunt. Ever since Krauser’s new nickname had come out, it had been catching like a wild fire. Snickered quietly, away from the Major’s hearing at first, someone had finally gotten bold enough to use it out loud as they were dispersing for lunch.
“I’m talking to you,” the cadet jeered again, closer behind him that time. “I said, hey, pr–”
There was a distinct crunch and a howl, yanking Leon’s attention back to the hallway. Only a few feet back, Krauser had slammed the man into the wall so hard he’d dropped to the floor as soon as he’d been released.
Crouching down, Krauser pointed at his scarred face. “Something about this ‘pretty’ to you, cadet?”
“Wha- No, sir! I wasn’t–” he was cut off by an open handed slap to the side of the head. It was actually louder than the sound he’d made hitting the wall and multiple people winced.
“Well now you’ve hurt my feelings,” the Major grunted. “Apologize.”
“Sorry, sir!” the man sputtered, only to get smacked again.
“Don’t fucking apologize!” Krauser snapped. “It’s a sign of weakness! Now, what was my original question, cadet?”
Looking slightly woozy, the man blinked a couple of times before hesitantly asking, “Am I pretty, sir?”
Everyone was expecting it and it was still so fast they barely saw it when Krauser hit him. Standing up, he spat, “No. You look like your mother shit you out in the toilet. She should have done the world a favor and flushed.”
Turning, he left the crumpled, person shaped heap behind. Pausing very briefly at Leon’s shoulder, he said almost conversationally, “You know, I’m starting to think he wasn’t actually talking to me.”
Leon didn’t answer, still frozen in place just as he’d been when the attack had begun. He’d wanted to step in. To stop what was clearly just an excuse to violently abuse a subordinate. But he couldn’t bring himself to step in. None of them ever stepped in for him. None of them were stepping in now! Why should he? Trying to help was what had gotten him into the situation in the first place! Trying to stop it would just make the situation worse for all of them…
Before he could come to any kind of useful conclusion, everything was over and the hall was slowly clearing as people finally made it to lunch. More than a few had muttered comments and dirty looks as they shuffled past Leon, but he barely registered them. He wasn’t sure how, but he felt like he’d made things worse in some way…
When the end of the day finally rolled around, they were allowed their short allotment of free time before bed. It was during that period that Leon found the recruit Krauser had beaten earlier in the day. With as bruised as his face was, it was easy enough to pick him out.
Approaching him as he was gathering up a change of clothes for after a shower, Leon cleared his throat to get his attention. When the man looked up at him, there was a split second of fear before he recognized who had approached him and it changed.
“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened with Krauser earlier,” Leon offered awkwardly. “I know things here are–
Eyes narrowing, the cadet shrugged, interrupting, “Don’t apologize… It’s a sign of weakness.”
Slightly taken aback, he tried, “Ah, right, sure… But it was a massive overreaction for him to–”
“Why don’t you not worry about it, rook–” the cadet cut himself off, a sour look on his face. Glaring at Leon, he huffed, “Just mind your own business, Kennedy.”
Taking a step away when the man pointedly turned his back on him, Leon didn’t answer. Obviously it was best to let the incident drop. Technically he wasn’t a part of it and trying to make amends would likely only make things worse.
Turning towards his own bunk a few yards away, he paused when he noticed several other trainee’s staring. As soon as they saw him looking, they quickly looked away or pretended to be doing other things while purposefully ignoring him.
Oh… Wow. Okay. So he was being iced out. That was… a change. Probably not a better one. It wasn’t, of course, but at least he wasn’t surprised by it. At least, not that part of it.
What really surprised Leon, was how much physically closer Krauser seemed to be during training. No matter who the rookie cop was paired with or what solo exercise they were doing, the Major almost always seemed to be nearby.
Around the middle of month three, he surprised Leon further. Pulling him to the front for morning warm ups, he explained, “For some reason, the rest of your platoon refuses to be paired up with you, rookie.”
Leon felt ice cold dread grip his spine. Did that mean he was getting cut from the program? If he was, would that even be such a bad thing? Academically, not really, but it would be a massive blow to his pride. What would Marvin think, considering he’d been so certain he could handle it? What would Chris think, assuming he ever got around to sending another email…
Already feeling like he was letting down too many people, Leon jumped slightly when Krauswer suddenly leaned down, lips close to his ear as he said in a low growl, “I guess that means you’re all mine, pretty boy.”
Leon spent the rest of the day with the worst feeling of conflict roiling in his stomach. Training went as usual and he went to bed with just as many new bruises as aches as always, but it wasn’t the physical hardships that had him confused. It was the comments Krauser had started to make.
As the days continued and the halfway point was left in the dust, his comments started to become less degrading and more… oddly encouraging? Instead of being slammed into the ground and told every breath he took was a crime against all the trees that had worked so hard to produce the oxygen he was wasting, he was given a brief comment about how his form wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been and if he worked on blocking a little more maybe he’d outlive his pathetic fellow cadets.
Right at the start of month four, Krauser made his move.
It was the weekend and Leon had just woken up. Shuffling to the bathroom first, he moved on to find breakfast. His guard was down, a mistake he already knew but simply couldn’t bring himself to care about at the moment. The other recruits gave him a wide berth and if the Major was going to pop out of his bowl of oatmeal to sock him in the jaw, so be it. He just wanted five minutes of peace. Was that too much to ask?
Apparently it was, as the moment he sat down, a shadow covered him from behind. Tensing, he kept his hand flat on his spoon on top of the table. He hadn’t seen Krauser stab anyone with a spoon yet, but he wouldn’t put it past him to do so, and he really liked having two working eyes.
The shadow lingered for a moment, before moving around his side. Before he could fully process it, another tray was set down on the other side of the table, and Krauser sat across from him.
“Morning… sir,” Leon greeted slowly.
“Is that an observation or are you trying to say good morning?” Krauser questioned. Not waiting for an answer, he said, “I’m going to a bar not too far off campus tonight. Join me.”
Thrown for a loop, it took him a moment to answer. Sure it must be a test of some kind, Leon answered robotically, “Sorry, sir, I can’t. Recruits aren’t to leave the base until after graduation, or unless given a special allowance for emergency purposes.”
“Look at you, acting like the perfect little soldier,” Krauser chuckled. “Nice to see you can be trained after all.”
Not ready to assume he’d passed the test, Leon simply nodded. His stomach growled but he ignored it. The last thing he needed was to be murdered via oatmeal for ‘ignoring’ a superior officer. Stupid fucking rule, but the last thing he needed was for the Major to throw his ass across the cafeteria.
“Was there anything else, sir?” he asked, hoping that even if he wasn’t left alone, he’d at least be given permission to go about his business.
“Recruits can’t leave the base without an emergency exemption… for the first ninety days of training,” Krauser told him. “And then, it can only be if they’re accompanied by a superior. So. Go drinking with me tonight.”
Mind spinning, Leon cleared his throat in an attempt to buy himself some time as he figured out how to answer. This was… still a test. Right?
“I’m… sorry sir. I can’t. It wouldn’t be very smart for me to be out drinking on a work night,” he finally excused. It was impossible to tell if the Major was impressed by his answer or not.
Studying him, Krauser offered a thin smile. It was honestly more unnerving than comforting, and Leon found himself bracing for the table to get flipped over on top of him.
“Playing hard to get now, rookie?”
Oh god, he was serious? It wasn’t a test?!
“Ah… No, sir,” Leon said slowly. “I just… thought you were testing me.”
“Smart,” he agreed, that familiar glint in his eyes.
Hunger, Leon realized. It was hunger. A primal, lustful kind of hunger for something that wasn’t food or drink.
Looking away, he mentioned awkwardly, “I’m not sure it would be… appropriate? A superior officer and a cadet…”
“What about it would be inappropriate?” Krauser challenged. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, pretty boy. It’s just drinks.”
“O-of course, sir,” Leon stammered, now entirely certain he’d be leaving the table in a body bag. “It’s just, I don’t know how appropriate it would be for you and I to be seen in public… It’s a perspective thing. You’ve said it yourself… Most people are fucking stupid.”
Laughing out loud, the Major ignored the multiple heads that quickly turned their way before snapping back to their food. “That they are. Good to see my lessons are sticking in that permed head of yours, rookie.”
Still sitting stiffly, Leon watched with shock as Krauser simply stood up and walked away with his empty tray, having eaten while they ‘talked’. Blinking as the trainer disappeared out the door, he finally managed to mutter, “I’ve never gotten a perm.”
For the next month, Krauser would sit down at Leon’s table once a day and tell him to go drinking with him. It was never a request, and it was, shockingly, never met with violence when it was turned down anyway.
Month five of six had just started, and Leon was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The bleak, hopeless, suffocating tunnel…
He was getting better. Blocking more strikes and landing just as many. His run times were improving from their already solid initial scores, and his overall strength had increased. He never expected to actually get a pat on the back or a compliment that wasn’t a double sided put down, so when he actually managed to hit Krauser in the nose hard enough to draw blood, he wasn’t expecting the words that came out of his mouth.
“Huh… Good job, Rookie.”
Leon was lucky Krauser called an end to the morning warm ups then. He’d been so thrown off by the genuine compliment, he’d dropped his guard and was staring stupidly. Trying to shake it off, he found he couldn’t. It had given him such a genuine sense of accomplishment and pride, it was difficult not to let it go to his head. Still, it made it easier to deal with the initial hazing turned cold shoulder and the outright brutal training he’d endured.
Although that was the biggest, and only, compliment Krauser gave him that week, it stuck with him until Saturday when the inevitable lunch visit happened.
“Sir,” he greeted evenly. Admittedly, he’d come to enjoy those few minutes each weekend. It was the one time he felt calm, knowing no one was going to bother him or randomly attack him with a knife.
“Rookie,” Krauser answered. “So do I have to tell you to eat this time, or have you finally gotten it through your head that you're not a sheep?”
Even though his fork was already halfway to his mouth, Leon knew better than to say something snarky.
Taking advantage of the moment of silence, the Major said, “I’m going to the bar tonight so I can drink away the pain of wasting my time trying to teach a gaggle of talentless idiots. You’re coming.”
Finishing his mouthful of food, Leon actually surprised himself when he answered, “Okay. What time do I need to be ready?”
For the second time since he’d met him, he witnessed a look of surprise cross Krauser’s face, confirming that he hadn’t actually expected the cadet to take him up on his offer. At least, that was Leon’s mistaken interpretation of the expression…
Laughing under his breath, the Major shook his head. “You’re something else, Rookie. Just full of surprises.”
Taking it as a compliment, he basked in the warm glow of pride the seeming praise sent through him. He managed to continue basking through the rest of the day, and when nine pm finally rolled around, he was dressed in his everyday clothes, ready to go even though he was half expecting it to be some kind of trick or test. It wasn’t until he was actually in the passenger seat of Krauser’s shockingly decrepit pickup truck and watching him back into a parking space at the bar that he finally decided he could loosen up a little.
It wasn’t a very big bar, nor was it particularly nice, but they all seemed to know Krauser and Leon had been inside far worse places.
Sitting at a small table to the very back, the pair made some small talk over a couple of beers before the young cop finally worked up the courage to ask, “How did you get into this line of work anyway, Major?”
Pointing at the scar cutting his face, he answered with a dark laugh, “Early retirement. That wasn’t all of it. Hell, that wasn’t even the worst of it. This is just the daily reminder that what doesn’t kill you, should nut up and try harder before you come back for its sorry ass.”
“That’s, ah… probably something worth keeping in mind,” Leon agreed, snorting. “But why come back as a trainer? Is that really better than… anything else you could be doing?”
“I was all set to enjoy my retirement, but they asked for me. Several times. I kept turning them down, but when they added enough zero’s, I figured what the hell. Why not come back and prepare the next pound of meat for the grinder.”
“Damn…” he murmured, shaking his head. “That’s kind of a bleak outlook on it.”
“Better than getting your hopes up on someone else,” Krauser answered, eyes sharp as he studied the younger man.
Leon honestly wasn’t sure if he was reading too much into the situation, or if he was actually picking up the signals he thought he was. Throughout the drive and even the conversation up till that point, his superior officer had been making slightly suggestive comments here and there, or asking admittedly searching questions.
Draining the last of his beer, the cop pushed himself back from the table. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Restroom.”
“Don’t get lost,” Krauser grunted, waving at the bartender.
Half smiling, Leon started towards the opposite side of the bar. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but about halfway to the bathroom, he paused and looked back. Krauser was still sitting at their table working on his beer and looking at his phone.
Turning with a small shake of his head, Leon made it to the bathroom without stopping again. Although there were three stalls, he was the only one there. He did actually need to pee, but when he was done, he lingered for a moment longer, watching the door.
After a moment, he sighed, feeling stupid. Jesus, he was young and dumb. Marvin told him that at least once per shift, but he didn’t think seeing it for himself would be so embarrassing. Right. It was better to just go finish drinking, enjoy the moment of peace, and brace himself for tomorrow. His fellow cadets were going to tear him apart…
Exiting the bathroom, he hadn’t made it past the small privacy wall separating the restrooms from the main bar before someone reached out of the darkness and grabbed him. Too quick for him to properly counter, Leon’s arms were wrenched behind his back before he was slammed into the wall, his head colliding with the brick like a basketball. In between the stars in vision, Leon could just barely make out the voice of his attacker.
“That was sloppy, Rookie. I know we’ve got two months left, but I’ve fucking trained you better than that.”
Freezing at the low voice growling in his ear, Leon tried not to think about how it was affecting him. Wincing as his arms were forced higher against his back, he managed to question, “Major?!”
“You better be glad it’s me,” Krauser confirmed, still in that same low near growl. “You sure took your time in there… What were you doing, playing with it?”
Knowing he might be leaving the bar with a black eye for it, Leon couldn’t stop himself from retorting, “Why so interested, Major? Hoping I’d save some for you?”
Yanked away from the wall, Leon was thrown backwards, hitting the bathroom door with a crash. An arm pressed across his neck, keeping him in place as Krauser stared down at him.
“What are you implying, Rookie? You think I fuck men?”
Black eye, broken ribs, maybe a couple of missing teeth… Yeah, there was no way he was walking away from this… Forget his fellow cadets. Krauser was going to rip him apart himself. A large hand suddenly groping his crotch said otherwise, and Leon made a confused sound. What was happening?!
Lips brushed his ear as Krauser leaned in, voice rough as gravel as he murmured, “I don’t fuck men… Except for those rare occasions when I do.”
“What?!” Leon demanded, only for the Major to open the door behind him, sending him stumbling backwards into the bathroom. Hands were grabbing his waist before he could fall, keeping him on his feet while also carrying him backwards until he was pressed tightly between the wall and Krauser’s body.
Rough fingers dragged across his ribs, feeling his body before one hand was dipping back down to hook under his ass. Grabbed by the jaw, his head was tilted back at a sharp angle so his mouth could be captured in a rough kiss.
Every single rational thought left his head and what happened next was a blur. He knew Krauser had broken off the kiss at some point, whispering complete filth in his ear as he pulled him out of the bathroom. At least one hand remained possessively on Leon’s body all the way to the man’s truck, fingers pressing tightly into his thigh as they drove to the Major’s apartment.
Nearly being dragged out of the truck should have been a warning of what was to come, but Leon was too deep in his own confusing whirlpool of emotions and alcohol to really register it. A small, still rational part of his brain was screaming at him to turn around. Call a cab. Just get out of there and go back to campus…
Maybe if he’d been more worried when he was all but thrown onto the bed, rough hands and careless touches leaving more than a few bruises as he was disrobed. It wasn’t until they were both covered in sweat, Leon panting and exhausted underneath the Major with a nasty mess between them and all over the rookie's legs, that things took a nasty turn.
Shoved back down when he tried to get up, his protests were ignored. Limbs trembling with exhaustion, he tried to push Krauser off, saying, “Let me up, this kind of hurts. Besides, it’s three am, I need to get back–”
The sting across the side of his face was nothing compared to the pain from his split lip when he was slapped. Eyes watering slightly, he flinched when fingers wrapped tightly around his throat.
“You can leave, when I say you can leave, pretty boy,” Krauser told him coldly. “And I don’t recall having dismissed you yet…”
~~
Staring at his hands with glassy eyes, Leon took a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t really remember all of it… clearly after that…”
There was a long stretch of stunned silence, everyone else trying to process the story they’d just heard. Finally, King stood up from where he’d sat beside Eli on the extra mattress.
Patting Leon’s shoulder, he promised, “It’s going to be okay,” before reaching for the doorknob.
Instantly looking worried, Quentin demanded, “Where are you going?”
“To kill that bloody–”
After a short scuffle which Marcus, David Emory, and Leon were wise enough not to take part in, King was convinced -forced- to stay put and not act on his initial killer instinct.
Sitting up a bit more so he didn’t look like a talking mountain of squishmallows, Marcus was the first to actually broach the subject rationally. “Leon, have you… talked to anyone? About what happened?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, an even more pained expression crossing his face. “After… afterwards I went to the head of the academy. And he told me… that although it was inappropriate for a student and teacher to be engaging in… intimate… activities… they were willing to overlook it to protect their best instructor. Just because I had made comments leading to a ‘one time thing’ and regretted it after was no reason to jeopardize his reputation…”
“Oh, wow,” Quentin muttered. “That’s… Jesus, man.”
“I didn’t think I was going to survive the last two months of school. Krauser found every opportunity to make my life a living hell and the other trainees refused to even look at me, much less speak to me,” Leon continued. “I didn’t tell Marvin and Chris… I hadn’t heard from Chris in almost two months by that point. The day I made it back to RPD, I went to Chief Irons. I told him everything, thinking I could find some kind of help or advice… anything.”
No one needed to ask to guess what had happened, but the Captain confirmed it for them a moment later.
“He told me… I needed to keep it to myself. That spreading that kind of thing around could hurt my career. Krauser had a reputation and friends in higher places than anyone in the department could hope to reach. So I kept my mouth shut and my head down, but the damage was done. People in the department looked at me differently, and when several people who’d been in my platoon were brought on at RPD, it only got worse.”
“Cops are fucking useless,” Eli mumbled, and Dwight punched him in the shoulder. Wincing, he rubbed the bruised spot before apologizing, saying, “Sorry, Leon. I don’t mean you.”
Running a hand through his hair, Leon took a moment to gather himself before lamenting, “I don’t know. I can’t help but think that maybe if I had just done something different… Been more firm when I said no, or maybe just not gone back to his apartment–”
“It’s not your fault,” King told him, still very clearly angry about the entire situation. “He used his fucking position and authority to force you to do something you didn’t want to do! He should have been fired and charged!”
“A-And at least you got to leave!” David chimed in. “You never had to see him again in RPD!… R-Right?”
The utterly haunted look on Leon’s face was a loud answer, and the poor orderly shrank down into his blanket with a mortified expression.
“He’s part of the reason I left the RPD…” Leon said quietly. “On graduation day, the only thing he said to me was that he’d find me… Anywhere… and within a year, I discovered that he’s going to be joining the department. I knew I had to leave, but I had no idea where to go or what to do… Then I got an email from Chris. It was vague and, honestly, a little concerning. But he sent me a location and a plane ticket to Alaska, so I had my out. I took some time off and came up here.”
“Did you ever find Chris?” Dwight asked. Judging by the way he asked and the tone of his voice, it was obvious that it was his first time hearing all of it as well.
Leon shook his head. “No. I hit a dead end. A few days before I was supposed to fly back home, I met Wesker at a bar. I don’t even know how we started talking, but he offered me a job. It seemed a little too good to be true, but I was desperate so I accepted. I knew it would keep me in Alaska and close to where Chris disappeared. As Wesker and I grew closer, I finally told him the real reason I had even come to Alaska, and he offered to help me. Since then I’ve followed more leads and found more dead ends than I can count…”
“Is that why you started dating him?” Marcus asked. “Is Wesker holding his help to find Chris over your head in exchange for… stuff?”
“No, it’s not-” Leon sighed. “Not at first… At first, I refused when he’d ask me out or invite me to dinner. I was still emotionally and mentally recovering from the Krauser thing and I was terrified of going through that with Wesker… But he never pushed the way Krauser did. He was never aggressive or violent with me, and when we did start going out, he was so…”
“Good to you?” Eli asked, a look of understanding on his face. “He made you feel like you were everything, huh?”
“Yeah…” the guard agreed. “He did… It took a couple of years for the shine to wear off, and lately it’s just been getting worse and worse. I can’t ask for anything, even work stuff that we could all benefit from, without it coming with a price. Really, I… It always came with a price. It just took me a while to notice it.”
“Why haven’t you broken up with the bloody wanker?” King asked, arms crossed. “What’s he going to do? Fire you?”
“I have my reasons for wanting to stay in Alaska,” Leon answered. “And for wanting to stay at Crotus Prenn. I don’t want to risk losing my job or–”
Cutting himself off as though he’d almost said something he didn’t mean to, he rubbed his hands together. “I have my reasons. But I know I can’t go to Wesker about any of this. Honestly, I think he has some idea of my past with Krauser and that’s why he brought him up here. To keep me in line.”
“But if he knew just how bad it was and how horrible Krauser really is, wouldn’t he do something?” Quentin asked, starting to sound just as frustrated as King.
“That’s– It’s just–” Letting out a long sigh, Leon mumbled almost too indistinctly to hear, “Krauser has… a picture… from that night. And I know if I… push back too much, he’s going to spread it around…”
“Oh…” several people said at the same time, and an uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“Have you considered… telling Wesker about the picture along with what Krauser did to you?” King asked gently. “Maybe he can get him to hand it over before he fires his ass.”
“He’d be more likely to try and fight Wesker right then and there than he would be to hand anything over,” Leon said, shutting down that idea. “Besides, it’s not just Wesker I’m worried about seeing it…”
“Revenge porn happens,” Quentin offered, earning more than one stern look. Holding up a hand, he insisted, “I’m not making light of this and I’m not saying that you should be okay with it if he were to spread it around. But, there’s a fair chance that if anything did get out, people would be sympathetic, given the history…”
Looking more and more uncomfortable, Leon finally blurted out, “I’ve been cheating on Wesker for the past three years.”
Able to hear a pin drop, not one of them could come up with a question that didn’t sound super invasive and insensitive. Eyes slowly tracking over all their stunned expressions, the guard sighed.
“It wasn’t– I’ve never– …I did feel bad at first. I was incredibly unhappy, Wesker and I had had a huge fight and things were looking so bad with our relationship and with my search for Chris and things with h– with them felt so right in the moment and one thing led to another…”
“And are you… still with this same person? Or are you like… playing the field?” Marcus asked. “Normally I’m completely against cheating, but I mean if you need help–”
“If you weren’t concussed I’d smack you across the back of the head,” King told him, scowling until the ginger was silent.
The offer actually got a small smile from Leon, who just shook his head. “Thanks, but it’s not like that. Emotionally and mentally, I think Wesker and I have been over for a very long time. It’s getting to the point where I really don’t think he can help me find Chris, so once I work out some stuff with… my other partner… I don’t know. If we can’t get Krauser out of here, maybe we’ll both find the door. I just… I don’t want to put myself in another situation where I or anyone else are subjected to his bullshit.”
“Abuse,” Marcus corrected. When everyone turned to look at him, he said more firmly, “Abuse. What Krauser’s doing is abusing people. It’s not bullshit. It’s a fucking crime.”
Shaking his head again, Leon started to argue, “It was mostly my fault–”
Sitting up so fast he nearly followed the small avalanche of squishies to the floor, the ginger interrupted, “No. It wasn’t your fault. You may have made some mistakes along the way, but being taken advantage of and being sexually abused wasn’t your fault. Just because Chief Ironing Board and Krauser’s direct superior at the academy refused to listen doesn’t make it your fault.”
“Marcus, it’s fine,” the guard promised. “It doesn’t matter–”
“It does matter,” he insisted, voice tight. “I know how much it matters because I’ve been there. I was twelve years old and I woke up to my babysitter on top of me… The first question I got when I told my parents was my dad asking what I did to encourage her and my mom telling me that maybe it was best if I kept what happened to myself.”
“Oh… Shit, I’m sorry,” Leon murmured, unsure what else to say. “Are you… okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
Shrugging, the ginger answered more calmly, “After my mom left my dad, she put me in therapy for a while.”
“Did it… help?” Eli asked, possibly hoping that maybe it was an avenue Leon could explore as well.
“It was therapy,” was all Marcus said, before reiterating, “What Krauser did isn’t your fault, period. If you don’t feel safe telling Wesker, don’t. There’s no shame in protecting yourself, especially from someone you know doesn’t have your best interests at heart anymore.”
“We believe you,” Dwight added. “And we do have your best interests at heart.”
Almost hesitantly, David poked his head out of his blanket shell to offer, “If there’s anything we can do to help–”
“No!” Leon nearly yelled, startling all of them. Clearing his throat, he said more evenly, “I don’t want any of you getting involved with Krauser beyond the group messages. I don’t– I can’t ask you all to keep tabs on him for me–”
“You don’t have to ask us to,” Quentin scoffed. “We’re going to do that anyway.”
Smiling slightly, the guard nodded. “Thank you. But really, that’s it. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of him. Please just stay away from him. I’m going to do what I can, see if maybe Bill can help. Or maybe we’ll get lucky and one of the patients will get him.”
The last part was said in a forced joking tone, but in all honesty it was a sentiment they all agreed with.
Nodding, Leon stood from his spot beside Eli and King on his mattress. “I’m going to grab a shower, unless you need the bathroom for anything, David.”
“Me? No, you- you have fun,” he offered.
Letting out a tired laugh, the guard disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed behind him and they all waited silently until they heard the water turn on.
As soon as it did, King asked, “Okay, so does anyone have any ideas about how to deal with Krauser?”
“We can set him on fire while he sleeps,” Quentin suggested, flipping open a lighter he’d pulled out of his pocket.
Eli slapped his hand down, snatching the lighter before arguing, “I highly doubt he sleeps heavily enough for that. Besides, if you do that, you’re going to end up inside one of those cells.”
“I think we should probably focus on getting that picture back before we try to kill him,” David pointed out, and Quentin nodded.
“Or, or, we don’t try to kill him,” Marcus suggested. “I’m not saying we try to stop him from getting killed by a pissed off patient or anything, but we probably shouldn’t try to murder someone ourselves… especially someone we work with… especially at work…”
“Actually… I might have an idea,” Dwight said slowly. “It’s going to take time to set up… but I think we can get that picture back without having to kill anyone...”
~~~~