#log-in

When Patton was ten years old there was a career fair at his school. He remembered bakers in flour covered aprons surrounded by students as they passed out treats. He remembered doctors in sterile white uniforms and light blue gloves pressing stethoscopes against kids chests and and smiling as they giggled. He remembered the firefighters spraying them with the hose at recess, the kids dancing in the water and splashing in puddles. But more than anything, he remembered the police officers.

The police officers with their shiny badges and flashing lights. With their confident stances as they promised to keep the city safe. He pushed his way through a mass of kids, his eyes bright as he approached them, staring up at them in awe.

“Well hi there, little buddy,” one of them greeted, bending down to ruffle his hair.

He was too starstruck to reply, watching as the other officer noticed his presence, turning to wave at him. Some kind of inhuman squeak left his mouth and his cheeks reddened. The officers just laughed, finding him adorable.

“What’s your name?” One of them asked. She was the one who had ruffled his hair. He liked her.

“Patton!” He answered enthusiastically. “And when I grow up I’m gonna be a police officer just like you!”

“Well Patton, with that attitude I’m sure you could be the chief,” the other officer replied, a fond smile on his face.

“R-really?” Patton asked, his eyes wide.

“I don’t see why not,” he replied. Patton couldn’t see why not either.

The duo led him over to their table, which was littered with police gear. Red and blue lights flashed and he heard a faint siren, likely turned down as to not overwhelm the kids. A much too big police vest was draped over his shoulders and he stood up straighter, confidenter.

“I think he’ll need a few more years to grow into the uniform, Linda,” the one officer stated with a laugh.

“You might be right for once, Sam,” the other officer, Linda, smiled, ignoring Sam’s offended expression. “Don’t worry buddy, by the time you’re ready to join the force it’ll fit like a glove!”

Patton nodded but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, like he let them down somehow.

“Hey, why the long face?” Sam asked and Patton shrugged. “Tell you what, I’m gonna show you something I haven’t shown any other kid. But I think we can trust you,” he reached into his holster and pulled out his gun.

Patton let out a little gasp, taking an unconscious step backward.

“Sam,” Linda warned.

“It’s not loaded,” he assured, but she still looked uneasy. “It’s okay, Pat. I know guns can be kinda scary but it’s not the weapon you have to worry about, it’s the person. See, in a police officer’s hand a gun won’t bring you any harm, it’s a symbol of protection. Understand?”

Patton nodded, taking a tentative step forward.

“Do you want to hold it?”

Sam held it out to him and he stared at it for a few seconds before cautiously reaching out and wrapping his hand around it.

“Now remember, you never use a gun to hurt anyone,” Sam warned and Patton nodded.

He held it for a few more seconds, holding it at arm's length, watching it warily. Sam just laughed before taking it back, securing it back in its holster.

“You’ve been really good today, Patton,” Linda noted and Patton beamed proudly, “I can’t wait for you to join the force. There’s one part of our uniform that’s one size fits all,” she pulled out a plastic badge, pinning it to his shirt.

“Now remember what this badge means, Patton. As a police officer you must strive to protect every citizen and do your best to never harm anyone. Do you swear to abide by these moral codes?” Sam asked.

“I do,” Patton swore.

That ten year old kid was gone. His innocence killed by the very gun he nervously held. As if he knew what he’d do with it. What it’d do to him.

He’d promised. He’d promised and he’d broken that promise.

Broken himself.

Patton could see the body on the ground. A fellow officer. Blood seeping from his wound. He’d done that.

His hand shook as he pulled the small badge from his pocket. It used to be a reminder of why he joined the force. A reminder to serve and protect.

Now it was a reminder of who he used to be. Who he could never be again.

He tried. He tried so hard. He thought that maybe if he could save Connor everything would be okay. That if he could save someone it’d make up for the harm he’s caused.

But he’d only caused more harm.

Now Mrs. Sandlot was dead because of him.

Now Roman had lost a loved one because of him.

It was all his fault. Why couldn’t he stop hurting people?

He threw the badge as far as he could, watching it land somewhere on the dirty level five streets. He didn’t deserve that badge.

He looked down at his hands and let out a choked sob. They were dyed crimson, drops of red falling from his fingertips. They were covered in blood. He rubbed them against his pants but the stains remained.

He knew he could never get rid of them.

He let out another sob and LOG-IN held him tighter.

One day LOG-IN would realize how much of a monster he was.

How his midas touch stained red rather than gold.

Roman already knew.

Maybe Virgil did too.

They should all know. He didn’t deserve their friendship. He deserved to be left behind, where he could no longer bring them harm.

“She’s dead because of you, Patton!” I didn’t mean for this to happen.

“This is all your fault.” I’m sorry.

“You’re a horrible person.” I should have listened to Roman.

I messed up. I messed up. I messed up.

Patton was screaming, his throat raw as tears streamed down his face. He could feel the other’s eyes on him but he ignored them, hiccuping out a sob and letting snot and tears stain his face. He didn’t care if he looked pathetic. He was pathetic.

A police chief who couldn’t even protect his friends.

A moral person who couldn’t do anything right.

LOG-IN held him closer, shushing him and petting his hair. Trying his best to offer him comfort, as if he deserved it.

“I-I-I-” he tried to speak but couldn’t.

“It’s okay,” LOG-IN reassured him, but he shook his head. It wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay.

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered to LOG-IN from where he buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“I know.”

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he said again.

The words felt hollow as he said them. Intentions didn’t matter.

“I didn’t mean to,” but he did.

“I didn’t mean to,” it was only a matter of time before he did it again. Before he messed up again. Before he hurt someone else.

“I didn’t mean to.”

LOG-IN listened to him silently, rubbing circles on his back as he muttered that statement to himself.

He didn’t mean to hurt anyone. He didn’t mean to mess up. He didn’t mean to turn into a monster. Didn’t mean to dye his hands red. Didn’t mean for the color to spread. For it to seep from his fingertips and stain his friends.

“I didn’t mean to.... I’m sorry.”

But sorry was just a word. Sorry couldn’t bring anyone back. Sorry couldn’t fix his mistakes. Sorry couldn’t stop him from messing up again.

“It’s okay to make mistakes.”

“No! I hurt Roman. I-I-” Patton sniffled, hugging LOG-IN tighter. “I’m a terrible person.”

“I don’t care if you messed up, that doesn’t make you a terrible person and it would be illogical to assume that it does.”

“Why don’t you hate me right now?” Patton asked, pulling away.

“Because I care about you Patton! And I refuse to give up on you or let you give up on yourself.”

Patton didn’t reply, just let a few more tears slip down his face as he pulled LOG-IN back into a hug.

Maybe he could learn to forgive himself. Maybe he could make it up to Roman. Maybe he could stop making mistakes.

His hands were red, covered in blood.

But a heart beats blood.

Patton was a heart, emotions pumping from him like blood through a person’s veins. He spreads love, his red color painting all those he comes into contact with, decorating them with smiles.

He might be broken, but with love he can heal. His friends will help him.

“Thank you,” he whispered and LOG-IN smiled, pulling him closer.