A/N: So we're getting a little variety on here! Who's in for more?
Rookie Blue isn't mine, sadly. If it was, it would air like every night.
WEAK
"Why are you a cop, Epstein?"
"Because… It's all I've ever wanted to do."
"Pass it here, Harry!"
"Nice catch, Jake!"
The small, scrawny boy ducked his head as he tried to pass the two boys playing catch, clutching his books to his chest. He hated those boys; they were always mean to him.
"Hey, look here, Jake. It's the little freak. Whatcha got there?"
The boy tried to keep walking, not responding. It always got worse when he talked back.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!" The boy named Harry stepped in his path, large and imposing. He stopped, but didn't look up.
"What are you, deaf? Makes sense, I mean you're already blind."
He stayed silent through the words that sounded so harsh to his ten year old ears.
"Hey, Jake, why don't we teach this little freak some manners? He obviously doesn't know enough to look up when someone's talking to him."
With those words, a second shadow joined Harry's, and he was shoved backwards. He stumbled, but kept his footing. His glasses were snatched from his face and his books were scattered across the pavement. They were library books, and as one of the fragile spines tore apart –pages flying everywhere- he fought to restrain himself. His father always told him that a real man didn't cry or plead for mercy. A real man fought back.
With this in mind, the wiry boy looked up defiantly, and swung a hard right as he took a step toward Harry.
He missed. Harry dodged in plenty of time, and he was sent sprawling to the ground, having lost his footing. He felt and heard his glasses snap beneath him and groaned. His parents were going to be so mad.
"Think you're a big tough guy now? Well I'll show you tough! C'mon Jake, let's get him!"
A set of arms pulled him up, and soon he was being clawed at and hit and he couldn't get away. His clothes were being torn and he couldn't prevent the tears welling in his eyes from spilling over as he could feel himself slowly being stripped of everything: clothes, shoes, dignity. He was begging for mercy and wailing by this point; a disappointment to his father.
"Haha!"
"Loser!"
"Freak!"
"Twig!"
"Haha!"
The laughter twisted around in his mind, his head whirling frantically as he tried to pinpoint the source of the insults through his blurry eyes. He was completely naked and being poked and made a spectacle of. More tears streamed from his eyes as he tried to figure out why this had to happen to him.
Just as he had given up hope of escaping the turmoil, a strong, deep voice boomed across the insults, "Hey! What exactly is going on here?"
Everything stopped at once, and silence engulfed the three young boys. He tried to hide himself as best he could, remembering his nakedness belatedly. God, why him?
"Well? What do you two think you're doing?" The voice demanded. His blurry eyesight prevented him from seeing anything other than a dark blue blur.
"N-Nothing, officer. We weren't doing nothing."
"So then this boy is naked because he stripped himself?"
"N-no sir. He –uh- thought he had a bee on him somewhere. We was just helping him, sir."
"Didn't look that way to me."
"Honest."
"Boys, I'm more intelligent than you seem to think I am. If I ever catch you tormenting this boy, or any other boy for that matter, in this neighbourhood again, you'll take a trip downtown with me. Got it?"
The small boy couldn't see, but he assumed that Harry and Jake nodded and scurried on their way. Once they were gone, the dark blue blur turned to him, and knelt to retrieve his glasses, placing them crookedly back on his face with a gentleness that contrasted his earlier demeanour.
"There you go."
The man's face was brought into sharp focus. Gentle brown eyes, cropped brown hair, tall, muscular build. The small, shaking boy drank in the face of his saviour.
As the officer wrapped him in a blanket and escorted him to his squad car, something shifted in the little boy. This man was everything he'd ever imagined. Harry and Jake had feared him immediately, and that was the kind of man he wanted to be. He wanted to command respect wherever he went. He wanted to be feared, rather than to fear.
"What's your name, son?" the police officer asked.
"Dov Epstein."
"Why do you want to be a cop, Epstein?"
His answer hadn't been a lie, though it hadn't been the entire truth either. He'd given the standard rookie answer, and Shaw hadn't entirely bought it. A police officer was what he had wanted to be most of his life, but before that day the officer had rescued him, Dov had been fascinated by animals. He wanted to know everything there was to know about every creature out there. The library books Harry had ripped from his hands had been books on marine animals. He'd been so excited to read them.
But being a marine biologist wouldn't command the respect that police officers did.
"Why do you want to be a cop, Epstein?"
"Because… It's all I've ever wanted to do."
And because, even though he wouldn't admit it, Dov Epstein never wanted to be weak again.
A/N: What did you think? I'm not too sure about the ending. I might edit it. Please review!
