As you and your new rookie, Officer Barnes, patrol through the park, you can’t help but notice how tightly wound she seems. Her sharp eyes scan every corner, suspicious of everything and everyone. It’s not uncommon for rookies to be alert, but Katie looks like she’s still in a war zone.

You decide to let it slide, walking in silence until the two of you reach a small hill. It’s a quieter spot, with the nearest people a comfortable distance away.

“The weather’s nice today,” you comment, taking a moment to appreciate the breeze and the view.

“It is,” Katie replies quickly—too quickly. Her tone is clipped, like she’s trying to prove something.

You glance at her and can’t help but notice the posture she still carries: rigid, alert, always bracing for an ambush. It bleeds into everything she does—calling you sir/ma'am, referring to suspects as “enemies,” and chasing down perps with a little too much enthusiasm. She hasn’t yet made the shift from soldier to cop.

A flash of movement catches your eye, and you spot a ladybug resting on a leaf nearby. You pluck the leaf, holding it out to her.

“Here. Take a look,” you say.

Katie hesitates before taking the leaf, her expression uncertain as she examines the tiny insect.

“It’s.. very cute,” she notes stiffly.

“No, it’s adorable,” you correct, your tone playful but firm. “Look at the spots. Focus on them.”

Her brow furrows, but she does as you say.

“Now feel the sun on your face,” you continue, gesturing toward the sky. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Katie watches as the ladybug takes off, its tiny wings carrying it away into the open air. She drops the leaf back to the ground, her movements slower, more thoughtful.

“…Yeah,” she says softly, the tension in her voice easing, if only slightly.

You turn to her, your tone steady but kind. “You made it home, Barnes. Life is good. You’re safe now.”

She meets your gaze, uncertainty flickering in her expression. “I don’t know how to live like that anymore,” she admits.