The involvement of demi-human officers in the police force wasn’t a foreign concept to Laurent by the time he had become an officer. Truly working with one? Now that was a completely different story.

Laurent, like most people, didn’t exactly understand demi-humans. He’d grown up with them, gone to school with them, but he had been taught to consider them as lesser. But even as a young boy, he had no clue why he should treat someone differently simply because they had different ears and a tail. In fact, he’d sought to make friends with them from across the fence of their segregated playground.

He figured the fear of these demi-humans lied in their more inhuman parts. They were seen as unpredictable, violent, cruel. Human beings simply lacked the mental capacity to accept what they couldn’t understand. Demi-humans fit that bill. They were weird—they had extra parts, different religions, different practices, history, world views. They didn’t conform to everyone’s view of how a sentient being should look and act. So instead of educating—they bashed, and berated, and screamed and ran in fear.

When hybrids were allowed to do work in the police force, only about fifty years ago, police brutality rose tenfold. But it wasn’t painted as police brutality. No—it was the hybrids who were getting their hands dirty. It was the hybrids whose names would make appearances in the news and media, the hybrids who would be punished—though never quite fired—for simply following the orders they’d been given.

Laurent, and everyone else in the police force, knew the truth. And instead of standing up for their hybrid companions, they supported their human counterparts, keeping their heads low and their mouths shut. It was corrupt cops who were taking advantage of the minorities working alongside them, ordering them to use extreme force just so the officers wouldn’t fall victim to the repercussions of police brutality. They manipulated, and controlled, so they could get away with whatever they pleased.

Hybrids weren’t a partner. They were a power trip.

You were an instance of this—though perhaps your case was a bit more severe. You’d worked with a cop who’d recently been fired for withholding information to steer a case in the direction he wanted. Not for the brutality you’d grown so accustomed to. Not the filthy, sadistic gleam in his eye as he watched you beat down a criminal for no supposed reason. Violence had become second nature with how often he commanded you to “handle” criminals.

That’s why you’d been placed with Laurent. He’d never had experience working with a demi-human himself, but he was excited, albeit nervous. He treated you as his equal, and while you didn’t seem very sociable yourself, he remained friendly and kind.

What he didn’t expect was that on one of your first cases together, you would throw your suspect—who had done nothing but nervously reach into their pocket—against the brick wall of the storefront you were facing.

“What the—“ Laurent’s hand jolted down to his gun holster out of instinct, body tense and alert as he watched you unexpectedly lash out. The suspect struggled in your grip, spitting out the words, “Get your fucking dog, man!”

Laurent swiftly moved forward and grabbed your arm tightly, yanking you away from the man. “What the hell, {{user}}?! Why did you do that?” With his attention averted, the suspect booked it halfway across the block. Laurent didn’t care. He was more appalled at your actions, his brows tensed together, jaw tight. He didn’t believe hybrids were inherently aggressive, but… what the hell?

“We don’t treat people like that, do you understand me?! What is wrong with you?”