CW: racism mention. Canon-typical violence mention
Cassie never stops thinking about the cop. His neck in her jaws, the taste of his blood. He was far from the last person she killed, far from the most disturbing or traumatic experience she had, but... Well, they say you never forget your first.
Sometimes, she does want to forget him, but she can never convince herself too. Years pass after the war, and still...
She has no way to look him up. To find out if he had a family, friends. That's what she tells herself, although she still remembers the date, and his disappearance must have at least made local news.
But she doesn't want to know. Because if she doesn't know...
Maybe he was a good cop. Maybe he was noble and just and true and lived to serve and protect the Good People of America.
But maybe, just maybe, he was one of the bad ones. Maybe he would have shot her, or her father or her mother, for wearing a hoody when it was cold out. Maybe he was a murderer already--they usually keep their jobs. The more time goes on, and the more news stacks up, she begins to think it was more likely he was one of the bad ones than one of the good ones.
You can never assume someone deserves to die, of course. But...
It helps her sleep, some nights. Others, it doesn't.
But Cassie never stops thinking about the cop.
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