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Everything was different.
Well, perhaps not everything. Every day he was met with the same faces, the same voices that were nothing but nails on a chalkboard to his ears, the same dull, predictable routines Good preferred. His better half, while being the epitome of a busy bee, was, perhaps unsurprisingly, boring. There was no longer a need for an overly intimidating, doormat of a police chief, while there would always be the need for law enforcement, this new world was much better suited for Good cop. Everybody loved him. Bad cop would watch from the darkest corners of their shared mind, watch the world moving on without him just fine.
His parents would ask Good Cop where his brother was, if he was okay, had he said anything? Most likely it was only because the guilt got to them. They feigned worry but underneath it all he could see the relief in their expressions, the hesitance in their voices anytime they asked; they would never outright say they didn’t want him back, no parent would, but it was the little things that made it painfully obvious.
”Oh we just love having you around so much dear.”
“We’ve missed this part of you!”
He didn’t need to be told to know how hated he was. He hadn’t spoken to them in months at this point, nor had they made a surefire attempt to talk to anyone but his better half; their joy and laughter was just salt in his open wounds, and their words hung hollow in his mind and played on repeat to remind him of what he was.
Late into the nights when Bad Cop would rouse into a flurry of panic from bad memories or self-hatred, Good Cop would be there, sending him calming thoughts and gentle words, urging him to take over and go for a walk, and that staying hidden for so long couldn’t be good for him. But Bad Cop wouldn’t listen, no amount of reassuring from his do-goody brother could help; this world was not the world he had worked so hard to learn and understand, in this world there was a sort of calm disorder that drove him mad.
Initially it hadn’t been so bad; Bad Cop was not devoid of ideas and creative prowess, that was one of the reasons Lord Business had chosen him as his right hand- so it was oddly refreshing to see new things. At least, it was for a while. He had even tried going out one or two times, Emmet was more than happy to take him out on the town and buy him dinner; though of course, the hero of the story sitting out with the head of police wasn’t a sight everyone had been ready for immediately following Taco Tuesday. Being chased out of a restaurant the second time was the emotional breaking point for Bad Cop, as soon as they were safe and he knew his brother would be okay, he let Good Cop take over and flung himself into the deepest part of his mind, and there he remained.
He realized how little care and respect he deserved, he acknowledged that no one was willing to forgive him, and that some most likely viewed him as worse than Lord Business had been. The former dictator came out and publicly apologized and began a long reformation and recovery process to both better himself, and fix the damage he had caused. Bad Cop’s change of heart was... less public. Business knew about it, but when all was said and done, Bad Cop was too nervous to join him on the stands, too remorseful to face those he had wronged- and for once, his boss didn’t force him out of his comfort zone. Business had actually looked... sad, but understanding. Bad Cop tried not to think about it too much; it was all too dizzying.
+.+.+.+
It had been dark in his mind, and quiet for a long time, Good Cop was the only one who bothered to check up on him anymore, not that he ever really responded, preferring to ignore his brother’s heartfelt concern in favor of wallowing in his shallow self-pity. Even so, Good Cop would talk to him, his gentle voice at least bringing some comforting familiarity to Bad Cop’s otherwise non-existence. Good would talk about the day, how their “friends” were doing, and whenever the seasons changed, he would make sure to give the most detailed description of how it looked and smelled. Though he would still say nothing back, Bad Cop did enjoy those moments, and half of him missed everything and everyone, even if the other half was absolutely terrified of ever going back out there. So, silent he remained. He had nothing left to say to anyone, clearly nobody cared, his brother excluded; although he guessed his better half couldn’t hate anyone even if he tried.
Today, Bad Cop was roused from his turmoil by a gentle prodding at his consciousness. He ignored it by nature at this point. But Good Cop persisted and reached out to him with a soothing warmth, urging him to come out in the gentlest way possible, “It’s alright, please, just once, for me?” He really was being persistent, Bad Cop had to put an annoying amount of effort in to refuse his brother’s pull. “He’s right here, he wants to see you...” Good Cop insisted.
Bad Cop had no idea who or what he was talking about, all he knew is he was being much too loud, and the last thing he wanted to do was take control and see anyone.
There was a new feeling, a pressure on their back that made something snap in Bad Cop, in all the overstimulation, his fighting reflexes seized him, and he took control. He reached up to flip down his aviators but realized immediately they weren’t there, he then grabbed the arm touching him and flung them away. He groaned at the sudden strain; he had been going for a proper toss but his muscles weren’t what they used to be since his better half wasn’t as keen on weight training.
His vision was white for almost a whole minute before they adjusted enough for him to see, and even then, it was blurry because of his brother’s glasses. His head was throbbing and his whole body ached, he could feel Good Cop panicking behind his eyes as he grabbed at his opponent’s collar and reared back to strike again.
In the flurry of movement and blurry vision, it was only a far-gone familiar voice crying out- ”It’s me! It’s me!” that quelled his emotions until he was coherent enough to violently tear the high prescription glasses off and focus on what was going on.
“Sir...” The word, the title, is so foreign yet familiar and comforting on his tongue, it makes him feel like maybe his world wasn’t turned upside down. President Business is staring at him, eyes wide and worried.
“You okay?” The older man asks, gently placing his hands over the fist gripping his shirt. Bad Cop just stares, frozen, not sure how to react after months of solitude. Business’ eyes are soft, they look tired, and not as sharp as they once were. There’s a gentleness, a kindness reflecting in his blue irises that had never been there before, his brow is relaxed, his hair not as viciously styled, and he was wearing an open suit jacket with a floral shirt underneath. It was not the Lord Business Bad Cop knew and it made his chest clench painfully in confusion.
He jumped back awkwardly, suddenly aware of his surroundings and his own body. He looked down to find himself in an oversized, spring green sweater and a pair of jeans and slippers. Although, he was suddenly very aware of how exposed he was; even when not on Duty Bad Cop always wore something on his head and over his eyes, and now he had nothing, and he was acutely aware of the flippant mop of auburn hair atop his head. If he could have it his way, he would have much shorter hair, but he had promised his better half years ago that they would keep a bit of length to it, at least on top. He grimaced, his heart rising to his throat; this was Good Cop’s body, he shouldn’t be out like this.
Wordlessly he backed up and eventually turned into their room, shutting the door. He quickly pulled off the sweater and tossed it to the bed, then dropping to his knees, he began to feel around in the bottom drawer of the dresser until his fingers met the familiar, cool leather of his signature jacket. He pulled it out from under a stack of polo shirts, gingerly tracing his fingers over it, touching each embroidered patch and letter. After staring at it for a few lingering seconds, he ushers his arms into the sleeves and zips it up, tightening the belt around his waist as he always did. He then rushes over to the closet and digs out his old combat boots, shoving them on and zipping them up as well. The clothes, his clothes, almost make him feel better.
Returning to the living room he finds Business posted up on the couch, idly flipping through one of the magazines Good Cop leaves laying around. He noticed Bad Cop and smiles in his direction, “Bad Cop.” He greeted warmly, going for a hug before he noticed the stiffness of his officer’s frame, and switched to a handshake. Bad Cop is too shell-shocked to do much more than lucidly reach out to return the gesture with no energy whatsoever. “Good to see you again buddy!” Bad Cop flinched and jerked his hand away as a reaction to just hearing the casual tone, the friendly title coming from Lord Business; another thing he was not used to, and it hurt his head even more.
Finally, he speaks after a bout of silence, “Yes, and you sir.” He said stiffly, letting his hand fall back to his side.
-.-.-.-
His mind was hazy, since the moment he took control nothing felt right, and in hind-sight he doesn’t remember much of what must have been an awkward, terse conversation that lead them to be walking through the city streets in the middle of downtown. It was too crowded, too busy, people kept bumping into him and it was starting to push him towards the edge. However soon it was quieter, less crowded, and he was guided into a pleasant café by Business’ gentle hand on his back; they sat at a lovely table and were immediately given water with lemon. Bad Cop could feel the eyes of the waiter and the other patrons on him, he could feel their scorn and their fear all around him; he had nowhere to hide, it was suffocating.
“Hey,” Came Business’ uncharacteristically soft voice amongst the noise in his mind. Bad Cop was staring at his hands, the table, mindlessly tracing the pattern on the tabletop with his eyes. He chanced a quick glance up at his boss, but quickly averted his gaze as he met Business’ worried expression, “Are you alright? Not only have I not seen you for months, but you’re not acting like yourself. I mean...” He rubbed the back of his neck, “I understand you were... discontented with all the changes.” He lowered his voice an octave, “But I promised you, you would be just as fulfilled as you were before, and that no one would hurt you because of the things I made you do.” Business explained, his voice brimming with worry.
Bad Cop couldn’t help but notice how cautious his boss was being, it was such a blatant contrast to the domineering nature he was always known for and it threw Bad Cop for a loop and only succeeded in making his head spin with all the new input.
He just wanted to leave, to go home, to let Good Cop take over so he could crawl back into the dark and never see or hear anything or anyone ever again. It was all too much; it was too warm, too loud, the sun was too bright. The only familiarities were his clothes and President Business, and even those felt wrong at the time. He must have been showing his discomfort outwardly that time because suddenly Business stands up and takes his hand, “C’mon.” He says gently, leading them away from the café.
He was surrounded by noise again, too many people, all rushing around with little to no order. He felt their presence all around him, he grit his teeth and held tight to Business’ hand just to ground himself.
After a few minutes of walking blindly, suddenly the noise all but stopped. The heat of the sun was replaced by a gentle air flow, and smooth jazz met his ears to replace the bustling noise of the streets. He was able to focus long enough to find himself standing awkwardly in the middle of a convenience store, no one was paying him any mind, except the cashier who looked at him worriedly. Noticing his gaze, the young lady hurriedly began to busy herself by emptying coin sleeves into the register.
The chill of the floor penetrated his boots, it made him shuffle from foot-to-foot uncomfortably. There’s another minute of absolutely nothing running through his head aside from misinterpreted visual data that did not click with his consciousness, he wasn’t reacting, he wasn’t even all there.
What drew him back to reality was a gentle touch to his jaw as someone turned his head to one side, steadied him, and slid something onto his face.
The room was no longer so bright.
The aviators fit him just right; he reached up to trace his fingers over the rims and to readjust them on the bridge of his nose. His eyes focused and returned to normal for the first time all day, and the first thing he was met with was the kind expression of President Business before him. “There you are.” He chuckled warmly, putting his hands on Bad Cop’s shoulders. There was a familiar exuberance in his tone, one that Bad Cop wistfully recalled from some of his best moments with the former dictator. “Good Cop was telling me how he misplaced your glasses after you stopped using them. I thought that might be what you needed.” Business smiled softly whilst digging around his pants pocket, he pulled out a few bills and handed them to the girl at the register, insisting she keep the change as he led Bad Cop back outside.
“I’m sorry sir.” Bad Cop mumbled, beginning to feel more like himself. He couldn’t help but feel silly about his behavior, but everything was so upside down he didn’t know how to fix himself. He looked around as they walked down the street, taking in the sights now that he was comfortably hidden behind his glasses; it didn’t look much different, most of the buildings and shops looked exactly the same as before. Although he guessed there was no reason to demolish a perfectly functioning city, everyone’s mindset changed, but that didn’t mean they wanted to put the effort and resources into making a new city.
“Don’t be sorry,” Business mumbled, placing his hand on the small of Bad Cop’s back, “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Bad Cop chuckled dryly, “I beg to differ, sir.”
He saw his boss give him a look out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say anything else on the matter for the time-being. “Everyone’s missed you. Brickowski has been on my ass every day asking if you’ve come around.” He laughed, but Bad Cop didn’t see the humor in it; he huffed disbelievingly.
Did anyone really miss him? Or were they just worried about what poor soul he might be torturing or hunting? No. Nobody could possibly worry about him.
“I mean it,” Business nudged his shoulder, stopping him in front of a particularly nice car and opening the door for him. Bad Cop looked at him crookedly but climbed in, allowing the door to be shut for him. As Business rounded the front and got in on the driver's side he continued, “I know that look, Bad Cop.” He said evenly. Bad Cop started at his lap. “It’s the same look you would give me when I showed you my relics, or when I insisted my personal caterer was a Master Builder spy.” He explained as he pulled out of the parking spot and began to drive, heading through the busiest parts of the city. Business cast a sidelong glance to Bad Cop, “It’s the look you give me when you don’t believe me.”
Again, Bad Cop huffed, surprised the other man could read him so well even with his glasses hiding his eyes. “I don’t think anyone... would miss me, sir...” Bad Cop mumbled, his hands balling into anxious fists in his lap.
Business opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it. The remainder of the car ride was spent in silence, though it wasn’t as crushing or suffocating as Bad Cop thought it might be; it was oddly comfortable and domestic. He didn’t know where they were going, but despite everything that had happened, he stilled trusted President Business, and was content to ride along.
They pulled up to a luxury apartment building trimmed with marble and gold, Bad Cop recognized it as one of President Business’ personal condo complexes; before the events of Taco Tuesday, it was somewhere Business would allow his powerful friends live when they visited the city. However, it seemed as though the only one staying there was Business himself, the lobby was neat but vacant, and as they trekked through to the elevators, it was deathly quiet. “I can see your gears turning, Bad Cop,” Business smiled over at him as they boarded the lift, “I let the others stay here now, after everything I did, I felt I owed them as much comfort as I could allot. Metalbeard has a big space in the basement although he never used it, not surprising a pirate would prefer his ship.” He chuckled, and Bad Cop couldn’t help but smile at the fun tone his boss had; he sounded so happy... “Benny and Unikitty share the second floor, I’d avoid it until you’re feeling better; it’s always... exciting down there.” Bad Cop nods curtly.
“Batman got a floor to himself but he didn’t like that I wouldn’t give him the penthouse, so he rarely stays. And Emmet and Lucy are on the floor below us!” He finished with a flourish.
Bad Cop quirked his head curiously, “Us, sir?” He mumbled. He saw Business go rigid.
“Well, y’know; my place.” He smiled, but he suddenly seemed anxious.
They both step off the elevator on the top floor and take a few steps to the nearby door, Business reached for his keys, excitedly opening the door and holding it open for his companion. Bad Cop wasn’t surprised by what greeted him: a luxurious condo, complete with marble flooring and plush carpets, a massive tv over a welcoming fireplace, what appeared to be a fully stocked bar, yes it definitely looked like where President Business would live. Though there was an odd coziness about it, Bad Cop was sure it would feel more sterile and not so homey.
“Please make yourself at home! I’ll make coffee!” Business said excitedly, practically skipping over to his kitchen. For a few minutes Bad Cop stood, feeling awkward in a place that wasn’t his; part of him felt like he was waiting for orders, some kind of direction to tell him where to go, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. So, he took a breath and began walking forward. The apartment smelled like fresh linens and coffee grounds, and the fire crackled lowly as he stepped up to it, his eyes caught by the flame before he could shake them away and focus elsewhere.
There were huge windows adorning the far wall, ceiling to floor, and he could see the most beautiful view of the city. Bad Cop smiled thoughtfully as he stepped up to the windows and admiring the view. The sun was setting which sent rays of orange and yellow dancing along everything, it illuminated the shiny office buildings and the shopping district, which all cast long shadows in the opposite direction.
“Wait until you see it at night, it’s beautiful.” Business said, stepping up and offering a cup of coffee to Bad Cop. The younger of the two took the cup and peered into it for a moment, “Irish Cream creamer,” Business pointed out with a kind smile, “I know it’s your favorite. I got it on the hopes you would accept my invitation to come visit.”
Bad Cop nodded and sipped his drink, assuming he must have agreed to visit during that conversation from earlier he didn’t remember. They stood there for a moment, both admiring the view, at some point Business gently put his hand on Bad Cop’s lower back, the touch both surprised and comforted Bad Cop; he couldn’t understand it, that morning he hadn’t wanted to be around anyone, and now- he glances over at his boss- now he didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“I’m sorry, Bad Cop.” Business suddenly said, seemingly out of no-where.
Bad Cop turns to look at the other man, “Sir?” He hums confusedly.
Business sighed, seemingly frustrated with himself, “I... I know I owe you a proper apology.” He chuckled dryly: there was no humor in his voice. “I actually owe you a lot more than that.” He paused, “I just...” His eyes were full of something: regret, sadness, anger, affection- it was all there. “I just haven’t figured out how.” He admitted, crossing his arms, “Almost a whole year and I haven’t managed to think up an apology for-” He paused, the words caught in his throat, “For the one person who actually matters.” He mumbled, looking down at the floor.
Bad Cop did not know what to do with the information, he felt his hands starting to shake so he stepped over to the dining table to put his cup down, once he did, he slowly turned back to his boss. Business’ face was dusted with red, and he had his arms crossed but one hand was up holding his chin and covering his mouth as he stared out the window pensively; he almost looked flustered.
Bad Cop cleared his throat, “Me, sir? Why would I matter?” He wondered, “I’m just your police chief.”
Business looked up and reached out to take Bad Cop’s shoulders, “No no no, you are much more than that!” He exclaimed, face contorted with worry. Bad Cop just looked at him disbelievingly. Business sighed, “I... hurt you, so much more than anybody else.” He said, shoulders slumping as he dropped his hands from the other’s shoulders. He took a few steps away, his back was turned to Bad Cop, “I know now. I know how much abuse and manipulation I put you through, how much pain I caused.” He turned back around, and Bad Cop was shocked by the grief stricken on his face. “To be honest, I didn’t even know exactly how badly I screwed up until today!”
“I could see it all over your face, I can see the trauma,” His voice began to lower as he raised a hand to touch Bad Cop’s cheek, “I can see the pain.” His voice was practically at a whisper, his hands shook. “And despite everything you still trust me... and that’s how I know I messed up really bad.” He dropped his head, one hand gripping Bad Cop’s arm, the other still gently rested on the side of his face.
For a while they stayed like that, both of them trying to wrangle their emotions while being oddly comforted by the other’s presence. At some point Bad Cop reached out to tentatively pull the other man in for a hug, which Business returned with vigor, holding the police chief tightly around the waist. “Not you, sir,” Bad Cop mumbled, “The world didn’t want either one of us... so we made our own world...” He felt Business stiffen under his touch, “And I couldn’t handle it when it all went away.” His voice was low, broken, like he was about to cry, but he wouldn’t. Business’ arms tightened around him and the shorter man pressed himself closer.
Business took in a shaky breath, “I’m so sorry, Bad Cop.”
There were years of turmoil between them, years' worth of misguided fantasies and wrongful action, neither one of them was innocent, though neither one totally guilty. What they had done, they had done together; Bad Cop acting on his innate desire to please Business, and Business acting on a lifetime of emotional abuse from his earlier years. They were both hurt, and as they stood there, it was obvious their thoughts aligned: there was damage to fix, but underneath the ruble there was the strong foundation for something more than a distant, professional acquaintanceship.
They had been through things together that nobody else in the world could understand, and in a perverse way: they needed each other, they both knew it. Except Business blamed himself for everything, the world weighed on his shoulders like it was his burden to bare after what he did- while Bad Cop blamed the world for changing. He would never blame Business.
“I want you to stay here... with me.” Business mumbled against his officer’s chest. Bad Cop does a double take, not sure he heard him right. “I want to help you get re-acclimated to everything, Good Cop has told me nothing he does works for you so,” He paused, breaking their embrace to pull back and straighten himself out with a soft smile, “So I thought, maybe staying with me would help you.” He motions for Bad Cop to follow him, and leads him down the hall to a different room. Upon opening it Bad Cop can see the comfortable-looking bedding, simple, earthy décor complete with a few ferns and hanging ivy around the room, a plush sofa seat piled high with knitted blankets, and a very nice computer at an ample work station in the corner: it all looked amazing.
“I spared no expense on everything, I decked it out to be cozy yet functional and spacious so it wouldn’t be too suffocating.” Business explained from the doorway while Bad Cop stepped in to look around curiously. “And the desk over there! I got the latest tech, it’s the same stuff we had at Octan Tower, just a little more user-friendly" He explained, “The processing software comes with an A.I. assistant that can help you keep digital notes and find files easier!” He sounded so giddy and happy to show off his toys Bad Cop couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
“I figured it would be good so you can work from home without a problem.” Business said, much quieter than before.
Bad Cop turned towards him, eyebrows up in surprise, “Work from... home?” He was at a loss, suddenly feeling lost in the room.
Business smiled at him genuinely, taking a step forward and looking around, “This is all yours, Bad Cop,” His voice was still happy, but he was being soft and mindful. Bad Cop just gawked at him. “If you accept my proposition, that is.” Business chuckled nervously. “You can live with me... here. And I can take care of you until you’re better.” He shuffled on his feet, eyes down and face red. “It’s the least I can do.”
Looking around again, Bad Cop was suddenly overwhelmed, knowing the whole room was furnished specifically for him was overwhelmingly flattering and it sent his heart into his throat. “You don’t owe me anything, sir.” He mumbled, still awe-struck at the thought, he brought both hands up to hold the back of his neck, “I don’t need all this.”
Business was then in front of him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders and drawing his officer’s attention down to him, “But you deserve it.” He said with a light chuckle.
Bad Cop felt a single tear slip down his cheek, not because of any one thing, more so because all of these new emotions were rushing about in his chest and head so fast, he wasn’t sure what to think. But amongst everything he felt happiness, hope, love, appreciation; things he hadn’t felt since before everything changed. Underneath this manic high he knew the darkness remained, he knew he would slip back into it eventually, and he knew it would take a long time until he could maybe, just maybe, feel normal again.
Business was there, once again becoming a solid in his life, and he was looking at him with hope and promise in his eyes, and that made the bad possibilities not seem so towering. “Sir... I don’t... I can’t believe you went to all this trouble... for me?” Bad Cop choked out, his fingers tapping against the back of his neck nervously. “A simple ‘thank you’... doesn’t really suffice, does it?” He chuckled, fighting back more tears prickling along his eyes.
The older man smiled at him, and reared back excitedly, “Is that a yes?” He wondered.
Bad Cop nodded with a small smile, and Business very literally jumped. He pulled Bad Cop into a crushing hug, lifting him off his feet and spinning around, “Thank you, Bad Cop,” Business laughed, setting him down, “I’ll fix everything, okay?” He said sweetly, gently touching the other’s shoulder again. Bad Cop nodded in response. “Fantastic!” He exclaimed and began heading out the door, “This is great! I know you’re gonna need time, so I won’t bring anyone over, but I just have to tell Emmet and Lucy to good news!” Bad Cop followed him, quietly laughing at his boss’ ecstatic behavior. “I’ll be back in a few, and I’ll start dinner!” He was practically already out the door when he waved a brief goodbye, leaving Bad Cop laughing in the living room.
Now in the refreshing silence, Bad Cop looked around again, his mind buzzing with activity, the likes of which he hadn’t done for months. He was excited, but scared, he didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, or if any of this was going to help: he tried surrounding himself with nice things early on but it just hadn’t helped. And being around people never helped him much, so he was stuck wondering what was different now? What was Business offering that he hadn’t already tried, and why was he so open to trying again now that Business was in the picture?
While dissociating, his eyes fell on a framed picture on a prime spot of wall behind the bar. He recognized it immediately, with a warm hum in his chest, because he had the same one framed and sitting on his dresser at home. At least he had, who knows if Good Cop decided to move it at some point.
It was of him and President Business at a very hyped-up national park opening from a long time ago, he remembered it vividly because the day had been generally awful; he was happy enough to be there as his boss’ plus-one, but Business had been so busy with mingling and making the big-wig investors happy, he had essentially abandoned Bad Cop for the whole day, leaving him awkwardly walking amongst the crowd. Of course, he understood his boss’ duties, and so he stood, and drank a few glasses of wine, and waited for the function to end. It was only towards the end when he had felt familiar pressure on his lower back and Business greeted him with some quip about how annoying rich people could be. The older man was visually tense after stretching himself thin with the sheer volume of party-goers, but after a few minutes of talking with one-another he looked fresh as a spring daisy, and they were both laughing and enjoying their time as if they both weren’t there to do their jobs.
Amongst their revelry, the photographer for the event approached them and snapped a candid shot of them both laughing about something, all big smiles and relaxed expressions. Bad Cop had always loved the photo and got it printed and framed after receiving all the files from the photographer for their website, and he was careful to make sure no one else saw it less they think he was getting soft. Seeing the same photo framed on Business’ wall made his chest well up with warm emotions.
Looking at the picture, he couldn’t help but see the similarities between his boss in the photo and how Business had just been looking at him; the same smile, the same joy and youthful countenance despite everything. Bad Cop hummed quietly to himself, smiling at nothing in particular, stuck on the thought that if Business was finally happy, if Business finally found it in him to deal with his problems and love himself... then maybe Bad Cop could too.