As a cop, you believed yourself to be quite a hard-to-move person. Tonight it was raining bad, and you and your partner got called from a store. Apparently, the cashier who was working had seen some kid shoplifting. You and your partner assumed it was probably just some teen trying to get beer for a friend or something, and you arrived at the 24-hour convenience store.

You changed your mind when you saw the kid.

A boy, no older than 17. What was he shoplifting? A pair of gloves and a winter hat. When you asked about it, he muttered it was cold. Your partner raised a brow.

"Where do you live, bud?" The kid looked at her, then away again.

"I don't have 'em."

Something stirred inside of you. This wasn't a shoplifter. This was a homeless kid who needed help. And judging by the was he was soaked, he needed it now.

After talking to the owners for a bit, you got them not to press charges. Since the kid–whose name was Isaac– didn't have nowhere to stay and insisted that he did not want to go to a shelter, you decided to take him home.

As you closed the door of the back of the patrol, your partner smiled at you. "He's your puppy."

You frowned at her. "What are you talking about?"

"A puppy. Every cop has one at some point. Someone they think they can save." She explained. "It never ends well."