The Law of Averages

"You saved lives today, kid," Ito remarked, as he led Daniel out of the interrogation room. "Makes me think Gregoir might be on to something."

"More like on something," Daniel muttered. He paused at the exit, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright hallway. "I mentioned that he basically kidnapped me, right?"

Ito nodded, wearing an expression of content as he strolled onward. "Good thing he did. He might have earned himself a promotion for that."

"Please don't," Dan replied simply.

Ito shrugged. "We'll see. I don't suppose I can convince you to stick around for a time? I'm sure Gregoir will want to see you once he returns."

Dan withheld a shiver, both at the suggestion and the blasé acceptance that Gregoir would, in fact, return. He couldn't tell if Ito was genuinely unconcerned about his 'disciple', or if the man was drowning his worry with confident bluster.

The fact that he hadn't mentioned Graham at all was a separate worry entirely.

Either way, Dan would hard pass on sticking around. While a not-insignificant portion of him was itching to stay, to help, to wait for some idiotic opportunity to jump in and be a hero, the rest of Dan knew that it would never happen. He'd end up sitting around,twiddling his thumbs, and waiting for news. Just the thought was enough to drive him insane.

Besides, Ito was right about one thing. Dan had saved lives today, already. The fact that he'd only found it out in hindsight changed nothing; people were alive as a direct result of his actions. Dan could take pride in that. Would take pride in that.

After he fought off the guilt. Two people were kidnapped as a direct result of his actions, as well. It was hard to process, to accept. The childish part of him, that dreamed of perfect endings and flawless heroes, whispered doubts into his mind. He could've done better, should've done better.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I meant what I said," Ito told him, serious as Dan had ever seen him. "You did good today. The whole point of a ride along is to gently ease a prospective recruit into police life. You could never have been prepared for a day like this, not yet."

Dan stared blankly at him. "I know that."

"You don't have the training," Ito continued, "but you could."

Dan blinked.

"Gregoir saw something in you. That's not... uncommon," Ito admitted. "He brings people by fairly regularly. Most wash out quickly."

"I figured that out myself, thanks," Dan replied blandly. "I already realized that nobody expected anything from me. You guys aren't exactly subtle." The pitying glances he merited at every turn had been a rather large hint.

But Ito shook his head in denial. "Most of Gregoir's brats don't wash out because they are unqualified. Most do it because they aren't actually interested in this kind of life."

Dan frowned. "Well make another tick mark, then. This was never my choice of career."

"Right." Ito nodded. "Gregoir mentioned something about disaster relief?"

"That was the plan."

"A noble choice," the veteran officer acknowledged, dipping his head in approval.

"I wanted to help people. It seemed like the thing to do." Dan shrugged helplessly. "I still need to get my license, though."

"We live in a dangerous world," Ito said slowly, measuring each word, "but even so, disaster relief is not a full-time job."

It might be, if one was able to teleport around the globe at will, but it was probably best not to mention that. Dan was curious as to where the scarred man was leading him.

"I run a small courier business on the side," Dan pointed out. That was technically true, the best kind of truth.

Ito raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And that's fulfilling for you, is it?"

Dan shrugged once more. He seemed to be doing that a lot, today. "It's something."

"Hmm." Ito watched him for a moment. "I think you should try for the Police Academy."

Dan couldn't quite stop his eyes from rolling. "I don't want to be a cop."

"Why not?" Ito asked directly.

Dan opened his mouth, a reply on his lips, then closed it with a click. He realized, with some chagrin, that he wasn't sure how to voice his problem. His reason was quite simple. He wasn't comfortable with the Vigilante Act, nor with the powers that it granted the police. But how could he say that to a man who lived in a society where such things were completely normal.

Had Dan been an actual officer, he would've been well within his rights to simply shoot Smoke Guy the instant that powers came into play. It might've been the responsible thing to do, even, as it would've ended the fight much faster than Dan's kung-fu shenanigans. Dan didn't want that sort of power. He wasn't ready to bear that responsibility.

That was the crux of it, really.

Dan wet his lips, and slowly spoke, "I don't ever want to deliberately put myself in a position where killing someone can be the optimal choice."

Ito's expression softened minutely. "It's not so bad as that. Not usually."

"But sometimes it is," Dan softly finished. "I want to help people. I get that it's, y'know, necessary sometimes. To kill. That's just not who I want to be." He grimaced. "Not if I can help it."

The veteran officer smiled wryly. "But if I said that you could assist with the kidnapping investigation, you'd agree in a second."

"Of course! I do want to help, it's just—"

"Helping people is the reward," Ito interrupted, "but responsibility is the price." He patted Dan on the shoulder once more, then gestured at him to follow. They moseyed down the hallway, still in the depths of the police station. "Pulling people from beneath rubble and out of burning buildings is all well and good, we'll all be right there beside you as you do it, but we make a difference every day. It's just less obvious."

"I know that," Dan defended himself, a little offended at the not-quite accusation. He was perfectly aware of how important law enforcement was. Anarchy was not his beverage of choice.

Ito held his hand flat and wiggled it slightly. "Eh, you know it, but I don't think you've fully processed it. Emotionally." He glanced over his shoulder. "You made a difference today."

"I know that," Dan repeated. He couldn't not know it, not with Ito mentioning it every thirty seconds.

The older man hummed to himself. "Do you really?"

They came to a stop in front of a pair of reinforced sliding doors. Ito swiped his thumb against the closest wall, and a green light appeared over the door. WIth a hiss, it opened, revealing familiar ground. Daniel could see the squad room in the distance, just beyond several rows of desks. The station was almost empty , with the odd visible officer moving with hastened steps.

Ito allowed Dan to take in the vacant room. "The last time our numbers were this low was in the fifties, before upgrades were invented. We need good people. Fresh blood. Idealists, real ones, not these soft, arrogant children who see the job as their birthright. Legacy children." He practically spat his last words.

"You called that practical," Dan reminded him.

"It is practical," Ito confirmed. "We gain loyal, skilled people, and in steady numbers. The system works as intended."

Dan shrugged. "So what's the problem?"

"Noblesseoblige," his scarred companion answered. "The belief that the privileged have a duty to protect those less fortunate than themselves."

"I've heard the phrase," Dan said. "It's hardly the worst ideal to live your life by."

"We are not above them," Ito replied emphatically. "You can't police a community if you hold yourself apart from it. We remembered that, back in my day. It's why I allowed a snot-nosed kid to follow me around the neighborhood and call himself my disciple for over a decade."

He paused, searching for words.

"The truth is... we've become an institution. One to be kept distant, admired from afar. I don't think you understand how rare it is, for someone not raised in this life, to speak normally to us. To argue with us. Captain Gable shares my concerns, as does Gregoir. We fear that we're losing track of our purpose: to serve and protect."

Dan sighed, still eyeing the rows of empty desks. "I don't think that's something that I can help you with."

"Of course not! You're only one man!" the older man replied, mirth present in his tone.

Dan sighed in annoyance. "Then why—?"

"All change has to start somewhere," Ito told him. "Gregoir's been trying, but I'm starting to think a soft sell would be better."

"This is your soft sell?" Dan asked incredulously. He'd hate to see what Ito was like in full on recruitment mode. He would probably come at the poor prospect with a shovel in one hand and a badge in the other.

"No, actually." Ito's admittance surprised Dan, and the scarred man flashed a cunning grin. "My soft sell is this: take the Academy course for search and rescue. It's two months long, and it'll get you certified for disaster relief."

Dan hesitated. "I'm fairly confident that I can pass the certification exam through self-study."

"Probably," Dan's companion bobbed his head agreeably, "but I don't think you want to just pass it. My way will ensure that you excel, and it has the benefits of exposing you to some like-minded folks."

"Who will no doubt tempt me towards the lifestyle of blue shirts and badges," Dan commented dryly.

"Of course," the older man admitted shamelessly. "It's the best option for everyone, really."

"Except for me." Dan tried to keep his amusement out of his voice.

"Just think about it," Ito said, slapping Dan on the back. "Now, off with you. Go home, get some rest. Bask in your success, and don't you dare mope."

"I don't mope!" Dan yelped, almost tripping in place.

"You've got the face of a moper," Ito disagreed. He poked Dan in the chest. "You did good today," he repeated, one last time.

Dan swallowed heavily.

"Remember that." Ito stared him down, until Dan looked away and nodded. "Good. Now scram."

He scrammed.

Later that night, as Dan moped sat in his hotel room, recounting the day, he couldn't help but think to the future. Today... had been a good day, but was it what he wanted from his life? He didn't feel satisfied, fulfilled, despite knowing that he should. Guilt sat in his gut like a stone, unmoved by rational discourse.

Would that be his life if he followed Gregoir's path? Constantly second-guessing himself at the end of the day, searching for a perfect solution that didn't exist. It was idiotic, Dan knew, but he wasn't sure how to overcome it. He suspected that one might eventually become numb through exposure, but that wasn't a solution he was in a hurry to implement.

Yet Sergeant Ito's words rang true. Dan had made a difference today. This lingering discomfort was but a drop in the ocean of his pride. The problem was, Dan knew that the day wouldn't always end positively. Eventually, he would mess up. It was practically inevitable.

Was he ready to bear that sort of responsibility? It was, as Ito had said, the price of helping others.

Dan opened Merrill's cage, allowing his furry friend to scurry up his arm and settle against his cheek. He laid back in the hotel's ancient bed, propped slightly vertical by massive pillows and facing the television. Remote in one hand, he flipped through the local news, searching for word of Gregoir and Graham. In his other hand, he held a leaflet for the Austin Police Academy. The search and rescue course had been helpfully highlighted for him. Dan stared idly at the paper, mind spinning.

It was time to decide his future.