Hate (I Really Don't Like You)

There are your average police, the ones who will pull you over for speeding or patrol an area regularly. You’d call them state troopers. They’re the uniformed guys, with nifty squad cars. They’re the most racist of the different levels, and usually people who get stuck in a uniform are the guys who like to show brutality and feel above the law. A lot of people don’t respect uniforms because of that reason. Don’t let that stereotype define them though, some uniforms can be okay people who just want to serve justice, but it’s not unheard of for people to get into the game just to be a prick.

The next level is the police detective. They base in the same station that a uniform does but they’re the ones who get TV shows based off their job. A uniform gets DUI’s and bar fights, while a Detective gets murders and murders galore.

There are a few variations with people in those two such units, but those are the rudiments of a county or city police.

A few steps above the police detectives and a mile above the uniforms, you’ll get special organizations like the FBI. The FBI are the hot shots of the litter, with jurisdiction over just about everything. Uniforms hate them. Detectives hate them, and most of all, the general public hate them. Everyone has it out for the FBI, but I’ll let you in on a little secret: the FBI gets shit done.

FBI has the largest jurisdiction, not only in types of crimes, but in area as well. New York City police are restricted to New York, where the FBI doesn’t really have that problem.

The thing about the New York City FBI that makes them different from the other FBI offices around the country is the people. The People are from place to place are what makes everything different.

At the head of the Violent Crimes Squad for New York, is one Gerard Way, and his team, is the group of people who solve the particularly high profile cases. Gerard’s team also includes Patrick, Hayley, and Brendon, but upon the departure of their fifth and final member of the team, Bob, they’re saddled with the weight of getting a new recruit. Some guy who’s about 25, fresh out of Quantico. Fred something.

Gerard hates new guys. Always has, always will. They’re slow, and they make stupid mistakes. Eventually you learn to put up with them but they are so damn annoying. Everyone starts out as a new guy at some time or other, but that doesn’t mean you soften up at their arrival. They’re still like children.

Quantico is like Police Academy, and it’s grueling, but very insightful. Everybody who leaves thinks they’re all ready for the job but then they realize how hopelessly they’ve underestimated it all. It’s a lot different out in the field then it is in a textbook. You learn filing and basic rules, but what you don’t learn is how to actually be a Fed.

Gerard wakes up in the early morning with a sheet of paper stuck to his face and a coffee ring on his desk.

“Aw, shit,” he says, grabbing the paper and lifting the mug of cold coffee up from the little mark.

The sun is just coming up over the city and it creates a blue light around his fishbowl of an office. When the sun is just rising everyday there’s always that little amount of time when everything is turned blue. The sky is light enough from the sun’s rays that it impacts the earth, but you can’t quite see the sun yet, and that’s when Gerard finds himself waking up.

“Fell asleep at work again?” a man’s voice asks from the door in front of him, and Gerard turns around to see Brendon looking at him blearily, but judgmentally.

“Fuck you,” Gerard answers. He’s not a morning person. Nor is he a person who functions well on four hours of sleep, but he has no choice but to get up. He makes his way around Brendon in the door frame to go fill his mug with actual coffee, and he hears the man follow behind him.

“You’re killing yourself with all these late nights,” Brendon says, as he watches Gerard fuss with the coffee pot. He’s the first one in today so he has to make it, but he’s so tired he almost forgets how.

“It’s just this damn case,” Gerard answers.

A school teacher had been murdered a few days ago, but what’s worse was that the deed was done in the parking lot of the school she worked at. The elementary school she worked at. The very idea of someone murdering a woman at a parking lot with kids, is bone chilling and all Gerard wants to do is find the sicko.

“I hear you man, but you’re a mess. We’ve got a new guy coming in today, you’re not going to make the best first impression.”

“Screw him for judging based on appearances then,” Gerard answers back, as the coffee begins to heat up. He leans against the counter and tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“Well no offense man, but you do look like you slept on the underside of a pickup truck,” Brendon answers.

“Shut up, I’m your boss don’t say that to me,” Gerard says with a yawn. Brendon’s been on his team for the longest and he and Gerard are actually good friends, best friends really, but sometimes Gerard likes to play the boss card on him to make Brendon shut up.

“Whatever old man,” Brendon says and he walks out of the break room, slowly. Gerard’s not that old, he’s the youngest team leader in the whole department at only 29, but Brendon likes to taunt him anyway.

Gerard stumbles back to his office and groans at the fact that someone put even more files on his desk. They’re profiling every human who’s ever breathed near the dead schoolteacher it seems, and it’s maddening.

He sees the others arrive steadily and the office fills up rather quickly until Gerard sees the department director walk in with a new man that Gerard hasn’t seen before.

Notes

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