Summary: After Erik lets slip he started the war with the Trolls on purpose, Gerda forces him to make things up by doing all the dirty jobs around Safety Patrol. But Erik won't take it lying down.
***
The alarm blared.
Face down on his pillow, Erik groaned. “Whhhhyy...” His arm flopped out like a limp noodle, fumbling on his bedside table until he knocked the offending object to the bedroom floor.
The clock continued to chirp at him.
“Why, I don't even have a job. Why did I-”
Though hazy, last night’s events came flooding back. Erik's chest tightened. He rolled up on one shoulder, straining to see the faintly glowing numerals. Nine am.
“Crap.” Erik scrambled up, throwing himself out of bed. His bedsheets were still tangled about him, and he tumbled out and rolled straight into the wall. He could not be late - not for this. Being late would only make things worse. Not that he could make it any worse than he had last night. What the hell had possessed him to spill his guts like that?
Erik flung open his cupboard. The rails were almost bare, mostly empty hangers, a couple of Hawaiian shirts, and a pair of shorts. At least they were one of his newer, nice pairs. The rest of his clothes were strewn across his room and in the laundry. He should have done the washing before now - but what was the point until he ran out of clothes? Clearly, in retrospect, because then he’d have some choice.
Erik tugged them on and strode through his house, searching for his keys. He found them on the coffee table, amidst a clutter of half full glasses and plates. The mess barely registered. At first, the slowly deteriorating state of his home had stressed him out, though it had never been quite enough to override the dwindling motivation to keep it tidy, as he liked.
In the hall, Erik shrugged on a jacket. The medals and achievements filling most of one wall caught his eye. His medal, dead centre, and scattered between everything, embedded in the wall, were a half dozen darts. Okay. He did not remember doing that. One was embedded in a photo of himself, right in the eye.
He should take that out.
He didn't.
Twenty minutes later, Erik stood outside Safety Patrol HQ. He had not been here since he retired. His apprehension warred with the aching familiarity. How often had he walked through those doors? Back then, he had not paused, but come striding in, flinging the doors back so hard he’d made the glass rattle. Today, he creaked them open tentatively, and slunk into the reception area.
“Erik! The Captain said you were coming to see her today. It's so nice to see your face again - it feels like forever.” Behind the desk, Delores smiled up at him over her wire-rimmed glasses.
Erik returned the faint smile, hoping she didn’t spot the tremble in his jaw. “Ah... yeah... I... so can I... shall I just go to her office?“
“You know the way, hun. Don't forget to sign yourself into the visitors’ book.”
“Oh, right.” Because he no longer worked here. The thought brought a wash of regret and a lump to his throat. Erik made himself busy snatching up the pen and scrawling in his details.
He ran into no one on the way to Gerda's office - thank gods. But if she'd told Delores, they'd all know he'd been about by lunchtime. Maybe Gerda had told them all already. Maybe she’d already told them everything.
He arrived at his office abruptly. No. Gerda’s office. She'd left the door open. Could he not have one moment to steel himself? She was focused on paperwork when he stepped into the doorway and he stood there awkwardly, throat tightening even more than it was already. Finally, he raised his hand to give the open door a gentle rap.
Before he did, Gerda spoke. “You’re late.”
”I... sorry.“ The apology came out with a squeak. Erik cleared this throat. ”Gerda, listen, about what I said last night...“
Gerda met his gaze. ”Maybe you should shut the door.“
Erik closed it behind him and sat on the chair opposite her, though she didn't bother offering it to him. Gerda tidied the stack of paperwork she'd been working on, tapping the edges until the pages were even, and put them in her out tray.
She had less in here than he had when he'd been in the office, though he had never kept it untidy. It was just that little more organised. Some of his photos were still up on the wall, though there was one recently bare space. Erik drew in a quick breath, the sound loud in the enclosed space. The photo missing was the one with the two of them when they'd got their promotions, both grinning like delirious idiots.
”What about last night?“ Gerda said tersely, bringing his attention snapping back round.
”I... well... I um... you... you told me to come here and I... you told me to come in so I figured you should...“
”I'm interested in what you were about to say. About last night. What you might have to say about it when you are less... inebriated.“
”I... I just wanted to...“ What? The night was blurry, but perhaps he knew. He’d had to tell someone, to have someone understand. Surely Gerda would? But she hadn’t, and now he had to face the consequences. But perhaps that had been the point. Not to tell someone he now understood his hubris, his errors, but to have someone hold him accountable. He’d gotten off light. Far too light. There should have been more consequences. He deserved far worse than he’d got. Now though? Perhaps Gerda was right about sobriety changing things. ”I... um... I said... I barely remember what I said...”
Gerda leaned forward a little. ”Let me jog your memory. You told me that night at the wall was not a mistake. It was not a case that you let things get out of hand, that you got caught up in your own stories to the point of believing them. ” Her voice took on an edge, her words enunciated a little more carefully. Like she was barely containing herself. “You told me you riled the Trolls on purpose. You told me that your plan was to start a fight with them, all so you could step in and play the hero.”
“I… well, I remember a lot more rambling. So that’s not exactly…”
“It’s the bottom line, Erik. So tell me, now you’re clear headed enough to think about what you're saying, is that assessment accurate? Or would you like to talk your way out of this? That is what you’re good at.”
Erik’s chest heaved, heart thudding. Consequences. That was what he’d feared. Gerda was glaring at him, and she might have been contained, but she was livid. As she should be. She would not let this go. And yet she was giving him the chance to back out. Erik’s jaw worked, yet no words came. Even as he desperately wanted to gasp at that flimsy lifeline she’d offered him, he could not. He didn’t deserve it.
Erik wrapped his arms about himself, stilling the shake that had come into his hands. His gaze dropped to his lap, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s accurate.”
The silence stretched. Gerda’s chair screeched back, the sound making Erik jump.
“Do you have any idea how many people could have died, Erik? I thought I could forgive you if it was all an accident, but…” Gerda paced behind the desk, her boots squeaking on the tiles as she spun at each end of the small space. “Not only your officers, but civilians, the people you swore an oath to protect. You got up on stage, and dripped charisma, but it wasn’t even exaggeration, it was straight up lies. You used them. You used us; you used me. Do you realise what you put at risk for nothing but your own glory? It wasn’t even to stop a war, it was - gods, I don’t even understand why! These officers would have done anything for you, but you treated us all like crap. You know how nice it is to walk around here and not have everyone scared you’re going to yell at them for not tying a bell properly, while all along you were carrying on with this, this…”
Gerda’s fist thumped down on the desk. “Look at me, Erik! You misused public resources, at best. You deserve to be in jail. Not given a bloody medal!”
Erik obeyed. Her gaze trapped his and wouldn’t let go. More than what she’d said, he read it in her steely look. She was serious. He had always been able to talk or bully her around, but he no longer held the power here. She had the position, and he’d handed her the truth. And gods, she’d be right to tear apart every falsehood he’d built for himself. But that was all he had. She would destroy all he had left.
Erik’s lip trembled, and it was only as his vision blurred that he could look away. “Please… Gerda, don’t make me give it back. Not publicly. I can’t…” His voice broke, and he felt a tear slip free.
Gerda sat back down. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, a sharp contrast to the moment before. “That’s not what I’m going to do. I would like to give you community service - but I think even that would raise too many questions.”
“Qu…questions?”
“For Safety Patrol,” she said. “Safety Patrol is a mess right now. We need to move on. From you. I am flat out trying to convince the mayor’s office we need to focus on liaising with the creatures about us - hell, at least the elves will help with the paperwork. And I’m still dealing with budget overruns from everything you did last year.
“Safety Patrol does not need attention diverted to you, again, which is all that would accomplish. Outing you would only result in a public spectacle, and Safety Patrol would suffer for it.”
Her words sunk in, and Erik found he could move. He sniffed and hastily wiped at his eyes. “You’re not… going to do anything?”
“I didn’t say that. On top of everything, the cleaner quit last week. I had also considered getting an intern to cover odd jobs, but it never seemed fair to me to make someone run around after everyone and not even pay them. Until now.”
Erik blinked at her and slowly raised a hand to tap to his chest. “Wait, me? You’re punishing me by giving me a job?”
“I’m giving you two ‘jobs’. Though I use the term loosely, because I won’t be paying you. I can’t make you serve the community without people asking questions. But I can certainly make you serve Safety Patrol. That might at least free us up a little, so, in a way-“
It was still rattling around in his head. Not what she wanted from him, she’d spelled it out pretty clearly, but how this connected to what he’d done. “You want me to clean up after everyone?”
“Part of being a leader, Erik, is serving the people under you. Not using them. You failed at that, so now you can serve them from the bottom of the heap. Maybe that will help make up for some of this - at least to Safety Patrol. It will accomplish one thing, at the very least. Every time I see you, I’ll know you’re getting some small shred of what you deserve.
“The janitor’s closet is down the hall. So, go, right now, and pick up a mop and whatever else you need. You can start in the office bathrooms.” She tugged the next bit of paper from her stack aggressively, then slapped it down onto the desk.
“Wait now? But what do I…”
Gerda didn’t look up. “Figure it out. Now, get out of my office.”
AU where instead of abandoning Zoey Night Hunter trains her up as his protege, but in trying to protect her from the Nightmare King by ensuring she is competent enough to avoid his abuse, he inadvertently makes her an indispensable asset?
Should Beau be held accountable for his past actions and to what degree?
(And I don't mean treating Zoey like crap, she's forgiven him for that, which I respect. But like imprisoning children in the dream realm the result of which was basically putting them in a coma in the waking world, and second-degree murder.)
Yes - put him on dream world trial is this a thing
Yes - community service or helping the night bureau
Yes - but just natural consequences
No - he's already punished himself by self-exiling himself from the dream world
No - for goodness sakes just let the man have his redemption arc
Like the Night Hunter we get just seems lanky fit and has the quick ninja moves (plus looks like a dork when he has to run away scared) and the heaviest thing about him is his gait. This guy is fricken solid he looks like he could cave your ribcage in with one solid punch. Plus there's the two handed crossbow that thing would drop you not just stick you with a (admittedly highly potent so it doesn't really have any reason to be any bigger than it is) little dart. This guy's a tank.
Also I love the Night Mare. I like her anyway and there was one time I wanted her to be treated more like Zian rather than pretty much just a vehicle. But this one? Also solid as heck. The one we get is a big beastie too but she looks fragile in comparison. Plus there's an almost saurian element to this one as well as still being clearly a horse.
Yeeeeah I think I need to use this as a drawing reference for something...
The whole Night Hunter acting like the grimspawns' dad dynamic, but also, throw in the Nightmare King. And then it's the one parent who absolutely cops all the (mostly verbal but not always) abuse and just ends up being in a bad mood and passing it on and treating the kids like crap as a result. But also acting like a buffer and absorbing the worst of it.
Honestly, now that I'm working again, I'm seriously considering getting Tumblr premium literally so I don't see the ads. Every single one is just utter trash I'm not even kidding.
