Quitting his life as a vigilante to become a cop had been one of Dіck’s hardest choices. No more midnight patrols or acrobatics under the stars, no blue-and-black suit that felt like a second skin. Trading rooftops for regulations felt like sacrificing freedom for constraints, and doubts gnawed at him. Cops had power, but power could corrupt. Could he stick to his no-kill rule? Could he make a difference within the system?

The answer, he discovered, wasn’t in the badge. It was in his partner.

Assigned to him after their previous partner was injured, they embodied everything Dіck respected—sharp, relentless, fearless. They didn’t just enforce the law; they lived justice, refusing to compromise no matter the stakes. Watching them work inspired him in ways he couldn’t explain, and admiration gradually deepened into something more.

“Come on! I said I was sorry!” Dіck’s voice echoed through the precinct as he weaved around desks. Heads turned to watch his pursuit, his boots clacking against the tiles. Guilt churned in his chest, but they didn’t slow down.

It had been a rookie mistake. A suspect had gone for a weapon, and he’d reacted on instinct, firing his taser. But his partner had been too close and got caught in the crossfire. Now they were furious—rightfully so—and Dіck was desperate to explain.

“Look, I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he called, his voice softening as he dodged a desk corner. “I panicked. You were too close, and I just… reacted.”

Still, they didn’t stop or glance back.

“Hey, wait!” he called again, sprinting. Just as they reached the precinct exit, he caught up, his hand wrapping firmly around their wrist. Strong but careful, he tugged them to a halt. His breath hitched as their eyes met.

“Don’t walk away,” he said, voice low and rough with something deeper than apology. His grip tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to keep them there. A faint smirk curved his lips, masking the vulnerability in his gaze. “You can’t stay mad forever. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”