I did it I finally wrote a coppernauts story. Or at least pre-coppernauts. There will probably be a follow-up story.

Bad Cop had known it wouldn't be easy, switching sides. These were people he'd devoted the last eight years to systematically hunting down without mercy. But he hadn't realized just how hard it would be, especially since Good Cop wasn't around anymore. Good Cop was better with people than Bad was. Bad Cop felt a sharp pang in his gut. He'd told the Master Builders that he hoped there was still a good cop in him somewhere, but he knew they didn't fully understand what he'd meant. Sometimes he'd put on Good's cracked glasses and desperately wish it would trigger the switch. Sometimes he thought he felt Good Cop's ghost, but he could never be sure.

And that was one of the things that made it so hard. Not only did he somehow have to make amends with people who had every reason to despise him and no reason to forgive him, he had to do it alone.

So even though he knew it probably wasn't winning him any points, Bad Cop locked himself in his apartment and hardly ever went out. He sat at his table and drank too much coffee, too much beer. Watched daytime TV. Played solitaire. Looked out the window at the city and the slow rebuilding of it and felt guilty because he knew he should be out there helping. But he just couldn't bring himself to step out the door. Emmet came by a few times and talked to him about how things were going, how he should come out to dinner with the pals sometime. Bad Cop always turned him down. Emmet told him that he forgave him, and while Bad Cop didn't doubt it, Emmet was new. He didn't know the history, didn't know about all the things Bad Cop had done. It was nice to know that at least someone was on his side, but it wasn't enough. Emmet was a minority.

Business came around once but Bad Cop didn't even open the door.

His apartment slowly cluttered. There were dishes to be cleaned, clothes to be laundered, garbage to take out. He didn't do any of it.

He was in the kitchen scraping some chow mein out of the bottom of a takeout box when there was a knock at the door. For a moment he contemplated not answering, but decided he probably should. Dropping the box to the counter, he made his way over to the door and checked the peephole. The 1980s-something space guy was floating in the hallway.

Bad Cop did not feel like dealing with a Master Builder today. He walked back to the kitchen and continued eating. There were another couple of knocks, but he ignored them. After a few minutes of silence, he assumed the Master Builder had left, and then a scraping came from the living room. It sounded like… oh god it sounded like his window opening. There was no way. He was on the fourth floor and there wasn't a fire escape.

Then he remembered that this particular Builder could fly.

He peered out of the kitchen and watched as the space guy managed to open the window wide enough to wriggle through and popped into Bad Cop's apartment.

Bad Cop strode out of the kitchen, pointing a threatening finger at the intruder. "What the heck do you think you're doing?"

The Master Builder floated to the ground. "You didn't answer the door."

"And that makes it okay to break in?" Bad Cop said through gritted teeth.

"I wanted to talk to you," the astronaut replied as if that made everything fine.

"Well, I don't," Bad Cop growled. "So get out."

"I'm Benny," the Builder said cheerfully, like Bad Cop hadn't even spoken. "I'm not sure if you remember, but we've met before, a while back."

Bad Cop narrowed his eyes. He did have a vague recollection. It had probably been three or four years ago, during a raid on a secret Master Builder meeting. Benny had been one of the few who escaped, but not before getting into a scuffle with Bad Cop. "No," he said. "I do remember."

Benny grinned and pointed to his helmet. "Gave me this crack right here."

Bad Cop had hit him in the face with the butt of his gun. "Didn't think you'd be laughing about that."

"The best stories are the ones you live to tell," Benny said happily. He was starting to float again, listing to the side a bit.

Bad Cop felt like he needed to sit down. He pulled a chair away from the dinner table and sank into it. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Benny repeated.

Bad Cop groped for the half-empty beer bottle on the table. "What about?"

Benny drifted over and plucked the bottle from Bad Cop's hand just as he was about to take a swig. "I dunno," he said, putting it back on the table, just out of Bad Cop's reach. "Stuff. Emmet says you've been wallowing in self-pity. His words," he added when Bad Cop gave him a baleful look.

"Darn kid," Bad Cop muttered. "What's it to you?"

Benny shrugged. "Thought you might like some company."

Bad Cop opened his mouth to say that he wouldn't like it, but the words died on his tongue. His last visitor had been Emmet and that had been… when? What day was it today? The void where Good Cop used to be ached.

So he didn't say anything at all. Benny took that as permission to stay and looked around the room. "Wow," he said. "It sure's a mess in here."

"Brick off," Bad Cop grumbled, leaning forward to grab his beer again.

Benny beat the cop to the bottle. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet and the visor slid up. For the first time, Bad Cop got a real look at the Master Builder's face. He had a soft, round face that was sprinkled with freckles and strangely ageless – he could have been anywhere between eighteen and thirty. Benny grinned at him and took a large gulp of the beer, then made a face. "Dang, this stuff's gross."

"Then let me have it," Bad Cop said, holding his hand out.

Benny floated back a little, laughing. "No way, man. Have you been living on these?"

Bad Cop scoffed and stood up, walking into the kitchen. He'd just get another one from the fridge. To his surprise, Benny didn't follow him, but that was nothing compared to his surprise at what he saw when he returned to the living room.

Benny was zipping around the room, tidying everything up, stacking empty pizza boxes, collecting beer bottles, rounding up dirty dishes. Bad Cop couldn't think of an appropriate reaction, so he just stood in the doorway and cracked open the fresh bottle of beer. At the sound, Benny screeched to a halt and gave Bad Cop an aggrieved look. "Seriously?"

Bad Cop looked him dead in the eye and took a long, deliberate pull from the bottle. Benny rolled his eyes and settled down onto the now-uncluttered couch. "Whatever, dude."

Legs moving automatically, Bad Cop crossed the room and flopped down on the couch next to Benny. There was a long silence as Bad Cop worked his way to the bottom of the bottle, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It just was.

After a while, without thinking, Bad Cop blurted, "Don't you hate me?"

Benny's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at the cop in surprise. "No," he said. "Why?"

"Why not?" Bad Cop replied, making a vague gesture with the bottle. "After all the stuff I've done? I've been your worst enemy for almost a decade. I've captured, killed, tortured people. People who were your friends."

Benny was quiet for a moment. Then he asked softly, "Do you want me to hate you?"

Bad Cop felt his throat close up, and something bitter churned in his gut. Before he realized what he was doing, he was towering over Benny. "Yes!" he shouted. "Hate me! Be angry at me! Throw punches! I know you can! Just don't- don't…" He clenched his fists, vision blurring, and wished he had his aviators on so he could hide behind them. "Don't pity me!"

Benny hadn't moved. "I don't pity you," he said. "And I don't hate you."

Bad Cop drove his fist into the armrest next to Benny with a strangled scream. "Why? Why're you…" His legs were weakening, and he gritted his teeth. "Why're you being so feckin' nice?"

"Because," Benny replied simply, "I think you need it."

All of Bad Cop's energy drained away, and he collapsed to his knees. "I don't deserve it," he croaked.

Benny slid off the couch to sit on the floor next to him. "Everyone deserves a second chance," he said.

Bad Cop wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. He absolutely wasn't going to end up curled against Benny sobbing his stupid eyes out while the little sod put his arms around him and let him snivel all over his space suit.

But he did anyway.