Blame it on the Rain (Athos, casual)

[athos]

"Is that why so many of you guys can at least act like you've gotten used to it? Because they don't "care" 'bout their work? That's it?"

The kid obviously had a bad experience with cops. The accusation was strong in his voice, and Athos couldn't help the feeling of persecution. It was understandable that cops weren't the type of people loved (especially when they're handing out speeding tickets — but even then, it's driver's own fault, not the officer's), but they're only doing their job. Athos, at times, hated this line of work, but he did it better than some (perhaps most, even) and he struggled to set an example of how to treat potential criminals and people in general. 

Athos rubbed his forehead, and coughed a little. It had been really cold outside, and he hoped he wouldn't get sick. Curtis was more likely to catch pneumonia, judging by the clothes that he's wearing. 

"They do care about their work, but we can't afford to get too emotionally involved with cases," he said, "because when that happens, you'll get hurt, and I've seen many times fellow officers drive themselves crazy. My apologies if I sound cold, but it's a matter of survival. We do our job with a strong front, and we can't let our emotions control our decisions."

The rain was worsening, and there was the least amount of cars Athos had ever seen with the time he spent in New York. He wasn't sure whether he'd be able to continue driving. He could hardly see the headlights his own car was emitting. The wipers were working overtime to drive the rain away. He punched the heat dial. A wave of warmth immediately helped him feel better. 

"I'm sure you or some of you friends say it themselves: you have to do what you need to do to survive," he said, and groaned in frustration after realizing the wipers were no use. He pulled into a parking lot of some restaurant. He said, "Why don't we grab a bite and you can find a phone to tell your family you'll be home soon. I'd lend you my cellphone, but it's dead."

[eastsidesunset]

"They do care about their work, but we can't afford to get too emotionally involved with cases. Because when that happens, you'll get hurt, and I've seen many times fellow officers drive themselves crazy. My apologies if I sound cold, but it's a matter of survival. We do our job with a strong front, and we can't let our emotions control our decisions."

'Survival'. It was an interesting word choice that somehow grated on my nerves and rang true at the same time. I guess half of me wanted to keep hating him because I didn't want to believe a cop had emotions too, wanted to keep thinking of them as vicious, self-absorbed symbols of everything we had to go through just because we didn't have the money to buy respect. I wanted to keep on seeing them as a unified whole that would never ever understand our lives.

But now, after hearing him explain it all out like this, I couldn't. Not without flat-out denying everything he'd just said. And that was what racked my insides, fueling the battle inside me between what was the truth and what I wanted to believe was the truth. You tell yourself you don't wanna be seen as nothing but a greaser, half of my mind argued. See what's right in front of you then. Prove you ain't just a greaser, prove you can understand. Then he spoke again and I didn't have to argue with myself any longer because he hit the nail on the coffin.

"I'm sure you or some of you friends say it themselves: you have to do what you need to do to survive."

"You're right," I said quietly before I even realized I wanted to say it, my voice raw with something I couldn't quite make out. I realized we were stopping somewhere, and peered out the window as he explained.

"Why don't we grab a bite and you can find a phone to tell your family you'll be home soon. I'd lend you my cellphone, but it's dead."

"Alright," I said simply, and followed him out the car, the sudden gust of freezing wind tightly dotted with wind making me shiver convulsively. I hadn't realized how soaked my clothes were before the temperature seemed to freeze the cloth to my skin. I followed him towards the restaurant, crossing my arms tightly to my chest and fighting to keep my teeth from knocking against each other. Man, was it cold. I coughed violently, swallowing gulps of rain-laced wind. At this point, we could be heading inside a police station for all I cared.

[athos]

"You're right," replied Curtis, in a tone that seemed honest enough. 

"I don't mean to say anything to condescend," he replied, "but collide officers aren't all as bad as they may seem. We all families and friends we'd like to protect as well, but society would be disaster without law and order."

It suddenly struck Athos as strange that he'd only known the kid for ten minutes, yet, they'd managed to hold a deep, insightful conversation. Perhaps Curtis didn't think much of it, but Athos sensed an over-bearing urge to continue this debate. It was hard enough living in a society where people hate you for your job, but actually seeing these kids with their prejudgements was a little discouraging. Athos wondered whether his choice of career was a good decision, but he stopped himself before venturing into that thought. 

As stated numerous times, Athos would be the last person to act as a hypocrite — but at the same time, he was the biggest hypocrite of them all. He was a police officer, yet, he had committed crime as if he were any common offender. He had performed the worst crime of all, and nonetheless, he was the man with the power to arrest. Don't think about it, he reprimanded. Ignoring led to forgetfulness. 

The car door was pushed open with the help of a gust of wet, powerful wind. The minute he stood outside, he immediately felt like that he had fell into a lake of dark, treacherous water. He grasped the hem of his long coat and pulled it over his slender chest. With a sigh of regret, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and scurried to the restaurant. God, he needed a haircut, and at the random thought, he nearly chuckled. 

Once at the restaurant, Athos kept the door open for the kid. The place wasn't a chain restaurant, but a local one. There weren't any people, although it was still open. You would have to be insane to leave the warmth of your hearth to drive through the tempest brewing outside just for a burger and fries. Not even the famous chocolate mousse pie was worth the struggle. 

Athos took a spot, and offered the seat opposite of him for Curtis. "Sit, unless you have a preference to eating while standing," he said, pulling off his coat. Luckily the coat had protected his clothes underneath, but he couldn't say as much for his shoes. Luckily, he had worn sneakers rather than his leather ones this particular day. 

As he waited for a waitress, Athos loosened up his tie and pulled on it. It was such a bothersome accessory, but he never parted with it whenever he went to work. It enhanced his look of authority and gave him an official look, but he didn't want to impose this image on the kid. So, he pulled it over head and tucked it into one of cavernous pockets.

"The food here is good, apparently," he said, in a casual manner, while passing a menu encased in plastic. "I haven't had any of it, but my buddy eats here all the time. Then again, he has also been wanting to ask out the waitress, so that may be a why."

[eastsidesunset]

"I don't mean to say anything to condescend, but collide officers aren't all as bad as they may seem. We all families and friends we'd like to protect as well, but society would be disaster without law and order."

I shrugged and mumbled a thanks when he held the door open for me. "I guess so." The inside of the small, comfortable-looking restaurant was as warm as it looked from the outside, a small fireplace in one of the corners. I guessed that wasn't the source of the heat, but all the same it was a huge contrast with the weather outside and warmed my soaking clothes a little.

I took a deep breath and smelled something kinda familiar, something I couldn't quite place. One of the waitresses laughed in the kitchen at some joke none of us could hear. I glanced around distractedly as I sat down where Athos told me to sit, suddenly feeling a weird sense of deja vu around the empty little restaurant.

Crossing my arms a bit defensively, I thought about what he'd said about how society would become a disaster without law and order. Something about the statement just bugged me. "Then again, society's a disaster even with the law hangin' over everyone's head," I found myself saying aloud, more to myself than to Athos.

I thought of the social workers always hounding me and Soda and Darry. I thought of Johnny's parents. I thought of Dally, all of the neighbourhood greasers cornered into turning tough as nails and just as cold by the way society worked, the same society Athos was so bent on protecting with the law. The law that only protected the people who had the money. I realized I was shaking and I forced myself to stop thinking about it, grabbing the edge of my seat to stop myself from bolting outta there.

We had family and friends we wanted to protect too, but the goddamn law didn't give a shit about that. Oh, no, I thought sarcastically. Wanting to split up the only pieces of our family we had left was all for our own good. They didn't understand, they never could understand--that I'd rather get a job and drop out of school like Soda did than get stuck in a boys' home. Society hated us. So why should we care about what happened to society? It could turn into more of a hell than it already was for all I cared.

I was wrenched out of my thoughts by the menu the cop passed me with some words I didn't bother catching. I passed it back after a quick glance. "I'm not hungry," I lied easily. It wasn't completely a lie, either- I felt horrible and my head was throbbing. But even if I was hungry I wasn't about to let a cop pay for a meal. I coughed, covering my mouth with a dripping wet sleeve of my hoodie. "Should be goin' soon anyway."

When I looked up again, renewing my efforts half-heartedly to figure out why the place felt so familiar, I realized Athos had taken off his tie. He looked... different, to say the least. I stared at the initials carved discreetly on to the wooden table and tried not to think about how normal he suddenly looked.

(ooc: Gah. Super-rambly post. Didn't give you much to work with, as usual. >< Sorry!)