He tried to shoot Alex a thankful smile for the makeshift ashtray, but it wound up looking more sickly than anything. He took a moment to still his hands, and then he pulled them out of his pocket to ash his smoke.
"I found him," Leon said. "The serial killer I've been looking for. Rociel, though it turns out that wasn't his real name. We had him under surveillance, me and my partner, but Max took off to get us some coffee. And then..." he rested his forehead on his fist. Honestly, the whole experience was a blur. He knew he'd filled out a report as soon as some other cops got on the scene, but he'd be surprised if it made any sense. The only thing he could really remember clearly was pulling the trigger and the brief seconds that followed it. "He had a cop. A rookie. He'd already killed ten people, and those only the ones we know about. I didn't have a choice, but I still... How am I supposed to tuck Chris in at night when I..."
He took a deep breath. The hell was he even doing here? Alex spent his days saving people's lives, not taking them, and here Leon was, showing up in the middle of the night after killing someone two goddamn days before Christmas. And he was getting hot chocolate for it. "Sorry," he said, dropping the cigarette into the water and getting to his feet. "This isn't your problem. I need to deal with it on my own. I should go home."