KICK 'EM BEFORE THEY GET UP!

(2) the cop.

it was early in the morning. the sun hadn't fully risen, and the birds had just started their chirping. you could barely hear their tunes, however, as the children were being incredibly noisy. they were all chasing each other around the house. up and down the stairs, through the hallways, and into their rooms. their heavy footsteps echoed throughout the corridors like any other day. you sniffed the air and smiled at the scent of bacon. your husband didn't bother to make breakfast very often, so this was a pleasant surprise.

you walked to the kitchen where william was standing at the stove, shimmying and quietly humming to himself. you wondered what could've possibly had your cynical partner in such high spirits today. not that it wasn't a good thing!

"will?" you softly spoke. he turned around at the sound of your voice, in the middle of cooking some eggs. he sheepishly grinned at you and asked you to call the kids down. as you heard their stomping approach, you looked at william quizzically. his behavior seemed mildly suspicious, but it was nothing you couldn't worry about until later.

after a nice family breakfast and loud sibling-ly bickering, you stood up from the table and gathered your things for work. as you called out to your household, the kids got out of their seats and ran to give you a hug. you carefully placed one kiss on each of their little foreheads and waved goodbye. they eventually let you go, but not before bombarding you with, "i love you," "don't leave," and "we'll miss you!" you looked up to william and he mouthed, "have a good day," to you. you smiled and exited the house as the children continued to yell their adieus.

you arrived at the station and made yourself coffee as you were greeted by multiple co-workers; to say you were popular here was an understatement. you'd been with the department for around ten years now and you had rightfully earned the title of the station's best officer. you helped bring down a plethora of hardened criminals in your time here and it gained you respect from even the highest officials. with that said, not everyone was fond of you. "howdy, afton! what's in yer cup? blood? wudn' be surprised if ya brought it from home," you heard a voice say. "prob'ly got it from that crazy ass hubby of yers."

that voice belonged to none other than jim mahaulney, a fellow cop that just so happened to despise you. it started three years ago after your husband had been the prime suspect in a missing children case. without adequate evidence, he couldn't be charged and it certainly made some people angry. to make it worse, you didn't help investigate, despite being a police officer. there weren't many people in the department at the time and they needed all the help they could get, but you refused.

you didn't believe william did it. sure, he could be the biggest asshole on some days, but he couldn't be capable of hurting a child. right? you never bothered to look at the case in detail; the possibility of the culprit being your lover wasn't something you could even fathom. he always told you it was nothing to get concerned over and they had the wrong guy. you believed him. when he was no longer a suspect, you were so relieved that he wasn't some cold-blooded murderer. however, in the public's eyes, you failed to do your duty. you allowed a killer to get away with his crime, maybe even participated as an accomplice, and you deserved severe punishment for it.

the department never blamed you. the few residents that were angry at you eventually moved on. jim, on the other hand, sought to make your life miserable. he believed you were somehow at the center of it all. he'd spill your coffee, call you horrible names, and say disgusting things about your family. on more than a few occasions, your co-workers had to step in and help you. you never directly spoke against it. you didn't want to start a fight or anything of the sort. your goal was to become the best officer, the best detective, that ever existed in that station and you couldn't risk losing that opportunity over a sad man with nothing better to do than pick on his superior.