#cop!reader

It was hard to see that sweet little boy hiding under the table crying when we arrived at the crime scene. He couldn't have been maybe 5 or 6 years old. I had taken him under my wing and took him with me to the ambulance to make sure he didn't have a mark on him. He was safe, just scared. Not a mark on him except the scar of seeing his parents were just killed.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" I asked the little boy. He hiccups his name to me, "L-Leon."

"Are you okay, Leon?"

"I want my mommy." he sobs and hugs my neck. My heart breaks as I hug the little boy back, reassuring him everything would be okay. I at least hoped so for this little kid.

"Let's take you to the station, sweetie. Are you hungry?" He nods his head and that was when I put him in the patrol car, and we headed out to the station.

Few years later in the orphanage

Narrator Pov

Ever since he had lost his parent's and Leon was saved by the sweet police officer that night, everything had turned into a nightmare for the young boy. It was only the beginning, though. When he was moved and sentenced to live in the orphanage, he had a rough time with the other children. Always picking on him and bullying him for just no reason. Only to be mean. His favorite person to go to was the caregiver who helped take care of the children. But whenever it came to going to school, he would work so hard only for more people to mess with him.

"Where's your parents?"

"He doesn't have parents! He's a gross, disgusting orphan! He probably lives with a rat somewhere!"

He would run away and try to get away from them only to get tripped by another kid. When he stands up, the kid starts to throw things at him. Punches, kicks, until finally Leon tries fighting back with all his might. He throws a punch to his bully and finally gets him off of him. But when he sees that he made his nose bleed, that's when he ran away from the schoolyard. Teachers watched as they called for him to come back. Crying and scared, Leon ran and ran away. When he looks back with blurry tear-filled eyes, that's when he ran into the patrol officer that had saved him a couple years back.

"Leon? Hey buddy, what are you doing? Why were you running?" she asks him. He couldn't say much, but hug her. She hugs him back. "Hey hey, it's okay. Look, why don't we go to the station and we can get you something to eat, kid." She says.

"O-Okay." He says as he hops into the patrol car after the officer opened the door for him. When she closes the door she gets a radio call about a kid that ran away from school. "10/4 officer Rylee. I've got the runaway with me. We'll be down to the station in a few minutes. Over and out." She sighs and looks over at Leon. "You okay, buddy?" She asks him. He sniffles and doesn't say a thing. He wipes his nose with a napkin that she had given him. "I ran away because they were bullying me. They always bully me. Even at the orphanage. The kids are so mean and I hate it here." He was angry, scared, sad. It was hard for the officer to see him like this. Or any kid in that matter. No kid should lose their parents in a way that he lost his. The officer drives off and they go to grab something to eat. She then drops him off at the station and she calls for the orphanage caregiver to come and pick him up.

"You know, son. You can't let these kids get to you. If you let them in, they're going to hurt you more and more. You shouldn't let everything they say bother you, Leon. And you certainly shouldn't let the things that have happened to you in your life control who you become. Do you understand?" The officer says to the young boy. Leon nods his head and looks up at her. "Someday, I hope I can be a cop just like you." He says with a smile. She felt like that's the first time she had ever seen this kid smile in his life. "You be whatever you want to, kid. Just make sure to always do the right thing."

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

• Spencer Reid/Mattew Gray Gubler

Nothing yet…

• Aaron Hotchner/Thomas Gibson

Nothing yet…

• Derek Morgan/ Shemar Moore

Nothing yet…

• Emily Prentiss/Paget Brewster

Nothing yet…

• David Rossi / Joe Mantegna

Nothing yet…

• Penelope Garcia/Kirsten Vangsness

Nothing yet…

• Jennifer 'JJ'Jareau/Andrea Joy 'AJ' Cook

Nothing yet…

• Elle Greenaway /Lola Glaudini

Nothing yet…

• Kate Callahan/Jennifer Love Hewitt

Nothing yet…

• Tara Lewis/Aisha Taylor

Nothing yet…

• Luke Alvez/Adam Rodriguez

Nothing yet…

You wake up at the back of a van.

As your body tries to get used to the heavy-duty vehicle rattling through the worst road you've ever felt in your life, you wonder, ‘how did your life get to this?’ You, a young and bright-eyed sub-inspector whose ‘honesty’ (read: stupidity) got them transferred to some backwater town in Northwestern India. You. You.

The truck gives a jerk and your brain fog clears a bit more. The memories are coming back now. It was a lorry, you believe. A lorry you had stopped at the road-barrier when it almost passed unchecked through the solitary highway. There was a symbol on it, which the other officers kept calling ‘seal’ with a trembling voice. A demon, or something? You can't remember. The air in this van is terrible, they should check the ventilation for faults.

…In hindsight, it's probably a carrier for meat. It smells like it. You suppress a gag, trying to pull your hand up to cover your mouth. Which failed, because both your hands, curled into fists in zipties, came and hits you straight on your lip.

“Ough.” You articulate.

There's some commotion at the front, where—you assume—the driver is seated. The words sound something like ‘...finally awake...see what it means...stop the seal...'. You don't know what that means. It's a seal. The presiding officer had quaked out something about ‘i-i-if we even n-name this p-p-place, t-they will kill us’. The truck gives another jerk, harder this time, and you, with your throbbing head, passed out.

—-—-—

You wake up in an ashen, dust-covered cell. The iron bars in front of you are covered in rust. One cut and it's over for you. You look down and check your arms. No cuts, thank god, but the zipties have been replaced by large, black metal shackles. The metal is cold and presses harshly against your wrists. Your eyes follow the thick chains to a large pillar behind you, looped in such a way that you can't shimmy out of it.

—-—-—

Two bulky guards with huge septum rings and dense beards come in and drag you out of the cell by your shoulders after seven hours of you passing in and out of consciousness. They look like bulls.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, not quite feeling your best as the backs of your (noticeably bare) feet scraped against the rough stone floors. You're being dragged through what looks like a very big fortress, with candelabras lighting up the dark hallways. The walls are charcoal black, the curtains are charcoal black and the floors are—you’re never going to believe what.

“You went without me?” You feigned shock before you leant over to grab the pills and water from the bedside table.

“I didn’t think you’d be up for it, and I wanted to surprise you if I received anything good, which I did”

“Are you going to tell me or are you just going to sit there and make me guess”

“It depends, do you-“

“Natasha” your tone made her raise her eyebrows in surprise. You didn’t have the patience for games when you felt like death warmed up.

“Okay okay, well firstly the Chief gave me the names and information on the people that the General was involved with, but the best part is that we got a weapon match, and you’ll never guess what it is”

“Please enlighten me before I keel over”

“A sword”

“What?”

“That was the weapon used to kill both the General and his son, a sword”

“A sword?”

“Drink every time you say sword and you’ll be black out drunk in thirty seconds”

“Carry on and I’ll throw up all over you, and I won’t even regret it”

“Are you not happy with this? It narrows down the search”

“Yeah I am but, why on Earth would someone use a sword to kill someone? A little out there isn’t it?”

“Easier for us though, I’ve told Fury and he said we’ve got enough information for now to go back, we leave tomorrow”

“So much for my dream holiday in Russia” you breathed out.

“Don’t fret, we’ve still got today and I have something planned. Eat up and be ready within the hour”

-

You had to get a taxi to the destination Natasha had planned. lucky for you the drive wasn’t too far because your stomach still felt dodgy, even after the croissant and crackers you had. And after having to give Natasha the money for breakfast, you really didn’t want to have to pay a cleaning bill if you blew chunks all over the backseat. So when you rolled up outside, you hastily got out of the car, thankful for the fresh air.

The building wasn’t anything grand. However the structure reminded you slightly of the houses you’d see in fairytale books. The white and orange walls warming the scenery in stark contrast to the bland colours of winter in Russia.

“Able to translate the plaque?” Natasha asked as she approached after paying the taxi driver.

“Not quite, my Russian isn’t just rusty, but nonexistent”

“Третьяковская Галерея” she replied with a smirk on her face.

“Ha ha, very funny”

“Sorry, it says ‘The State Tretyakov Gallery’, or just Tretyakov Gallery, I thought it’d be quiet enough for you to get over your hangover but not be stuck in the room all day wallowing”

Apparently in your hungover state, you had completely missed where she had brought you. “How did you know I wanted to come here?” You asked, a wide smile covering your face at the realisation.

“I sit next to you all day, so I can see your Google searches,” she replied honestly.

“As much as I should be annoyed by that, I can’t be, thank you for bringing me here”

-

The gallery was spectacular. It was amazing to see so many pieces of art from Russian history. The only thing that would make it better was if Natasha wasn’t wandering off taking phone calls every five minutes. You weren’t required to take work calls today so they must have been personal. You wondered who she was talking to.

“Sorry” she whispered as she finished her most recent call.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah just a friend, want to move into the next room?”

You noticed how Natasha shut down the chance for you to ask anymore questions. Who she was speaking to wasn’t any of your business, and she had no obligation to stay with you as you walked around, but you were aware of her absence nonetheless.

As you made your way into the next room, her phone rang again, but this time she ignored it, letting it quietly ring out. You could feel her standing behind you as you looked at ‘The Morning of the Streltsy Execution’, an intricate painting of a public execution after a failed uprising. You leant back slightly so her front was against your back. She reciprocated your movements by placing her hand lightly on your hip. Warmth emanated off of her, and all you could do was smile.

You were about to turn ask Natasha if she knew anything more about the history of the painting when her phone rang again.

“You might as well answer it, they’ll keep ringing otherwise” you said as you stepped away from her once more. You were cold again without her near.

“If it’s important they’ll leave a message”

“It’s okay, I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can fend for myself for a few minutes. Take your call”. So she did, leaving you alone once more.

After a couple of minutes of you walking around admiring the pieces, you felt a presence behind you. Thinking Natasha had finished her call, you swivelled around dramatically, ready to tell her all the things you learnt in the short time she was gone. Yet when you weren’t met with Natasha’s famous smirk, you were a little lost in your tracks.

“Привет” the stranger said, smiling at you like you were a friend.

“Urm, can I help you?”

“Sorry, I thought you spoke Russian, I overheard your partner over there speaking it on the phone, I said hello to her too”

“Oh she’s not my partner. Well actually she is, but not in the romantic way. We’re colleagues. Work partners” you could hear yourself rambling, not making this awkward situation any more enjoyable.

“My apologies”. There was a brief pause before the stranger spoke again. “I saw you admiring The Morning of the Streltsy Execution, fascinating don’t you think?”

“Maybe not the word I would use, but educational nonetheless”

“I always found it commendable that someone was willing to do whatever it took to achieve their goals. How Peter the Great was able to filter the wheat from the chaff is something very inspiring. Ruthlessness is something that isn’t praised as much as it should be”

Desperately trying to find something to say to end this bizarre conversation as soon as possible, you were luckily saved by the bell, hearing your own phone ringing this time from inside your jacket pocket.

Looking over at the peculiar person next to you with a feigned sympathetic look in your eye, gesturing you needed to answer the phone.

“This better be important Nick, because I’m too hungover for small talk”

“You need to come back tonight, I’ve got you a jet scheduled to take off in an hour”

“What is it with people making me guess things today. Are you going to elaborate?”

“Another body has turned up, and it’s missing an arm”

“Christ, alright we’ll head back to the hotel now”

Before you had the chance to turn away to find Nat, the stranger grabbed your forearm, halting your movements.

“Remember, rebellions against progressive innovations only make the agitator look moronic. Revolting against the right cause is a recipe for disaster”

Taglist

General Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @jromanoff @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx @marrymemcgrath @smileyromanoff

Series Taglist: @when-wolves-howl @thorya22 @lizlil @lyak12 @blackxwidowsxwife @pawiie