#trigger fanfic

Lee Do had always lived an isolated life. He had his job, and as far as he was concerned, that was all he needed. The possibility of having a family of his own was snuffed out the day his was stolen from him as a child. The heartbreak he had felt that day had never faded, had never lessened, and Lee Do refused to put himself through that again. To him, it was better to be alone than have his world shattered all over again.

He was content helping his community, walking the streets day after day to make sure he helped as many people as he could. He tried not to notice all the couples holding hands, or the dad’s playing with their children in the park. That was a life he wouldn’t lead, out of choice, and he was happy with the decisions he’d made. A family would take away from his job, and he couldn’t bear the thought of not being there when someone needed help.

Lee Do was fiercely independent, forgoing a partner like most officers had. He liked the solitude, relished the silence that came with working alone. There was no one for him to care about and grow attached to that way.

When the boxes of bullets were found at a crime scene, Lee Do was the first on the scene. His time as an army officer had granted him in-depth knowledge of firearms, and he knew more about guns than any of his colleagues did. But no amount of knowledge could have prepared him for the atrocities that would take place.

The first mass shooting had caught everyone off guard, and Lee Do was thrust right into the heart of the investigation. The carnage was unlike anything he’d ever seen, even on his worst days in the military. The bloodshed and death only reaffirmed that he was right to spend his life alone. There was no chance of getting hurt if he didn’t have anyone to lose.

But then you arrived. A detective transferred from another division, you were highly trained in the use of guns and highly knowledgable about the world of gun trafficking, and according to your old boss, you could take apart and reassemble a gun in your sleep. The higher ups wanted you leading the investigation with Lee Do, insisting that two of you together would be unstoppable.

Lee Do insisted he didn’t need a partner, but once you were stationed at the desk next to his, there was no going back.

You were a little too loud for Lee Do. You smiled too much, laughed too hard and quickly made friends with just about everyone in the office. You spent your days together trying to piece together an impossible puzzle, and he had no doubt that you were an excellent officer. But you made his preferred life of solitude almost impossible, and he found your never-ending optimism grating.

You could see that Lee Do had no patience for you, and you wondered why he was so quiet and withdrawn. You tried to get him out of his shell, but unless it was about the case, he wasn’t interested in talking.

“We’re here to work,” he reminded you one day as you asked him how his evening had been. “This isn’t a social event.”

He knew he’d put his foot in his mouth as you locked eyes with him, your mouth forming a thin line. “Oh thank goodness,” you quipped. “I left my party hat at home.”

He was taken back by your sarcasm, noting the playful half-smile on your face as he fought his own grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled properly.

You noticed him fighting a smile and wondered why he was so damn stubborn. His unwillingness to connect was frustrating, but you weren’t giving up on him yet. There was something about Lee Do that you couldn’t put your finger on, but you could tell there was more to him than met the eye.

“I haven’t seen you eat all day,” you said, shutting down your laptop for the night. “Fancy grabbing a bite?”

“I have paperwork,” he muttered, sinking a little lower in his chair, like he trying to make himself smaller.

“Ah, the old paperwork excuse,” you winked, trying not to let his brush off get to you. “Will you still have paperwork to do if I offer to pay? I just figured if we’re going to be working together, we should get to know each other.”

Lee Do looked at you, that small smile that irked him playing on your face. He had to admit, you were beautiful, and if he’d been a different person, maybe he’d have dropped his guard and allowed himself to enjoy your company. But feelings came with risks he wasn’t ready to face.

“Fine,” he finally agreed, hiding his blush as you beamed. “One dinner.”

You took him to your favourite place in the city, and ordered everything on the menu. He sat and listened as you talked about your life, your family and your friends. You were so animated, so full of life and so vibrant. Lee Do just sat back and watched you, wishing he had something to add to the conversation. But he had no friends, no family, nothing outside of his job. He carefully dodged any questions you asked him, steering the conversation back to you. You knew what he was doing, and wondered why he didn’t divulge anything about himself. You’d had a few partners in your career, but none had been as private and withdrawn as Lee Do.

You pulled out your card at the end of the meal to pay, but Lee Do shook his head, handing his card to waitress before you had the chance.

“To make up for not being the best partner so far,” he muttered sheepishly. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d had fun. It was the first night he hadn’t spent alone at his desk in god knew how long. You gave him the sweetest smile in return, promising to bring breakfast for the two of you tomorrow.

The streets of Seoul were slick with rain, the downpour soaking every inch of the city. The neon lights of bars and businesses reflected in the puddles, bathing the world in colourful hues of pinks, purples and blues.

Gu Jeong-Man stood under the cover of a local dive bar, dragging deeply on a cigarette as he watched the world pass by. He’d always loved the rain, relished the way it soaked through his clothes, as if the water could wash away all his gory sins. No one noticed him as he stood there, surveying the world from his place in the gutter.

He was growing tired of the city, growing tired of working his hands to goddamn bone for nothing in return. He’d never asked for much, just a decent way of life for him and his men, and an ounce of fucking respect. Was that too much to ask? It wasn’t just his boss who lacked respect, it was the entire damn world. People used to have manners, people used to look out for one another. But now, strangers barged passed him in the street without so much as an apology. People took what they want with no regard for others. He may not be going to heaven, but he was entirely sure many people these days wouldn’t. Too many humans were selfish bastards.

Passersby were so engulfed in their phones or getting out of the wet, that they didn’t see the young woman fall. One moment, she was rushing through the rain, her emerald-green trench coat billowing out behind her as she battled the elements. The next, she was on the ground, her knees hitting the asphalt with a sickening thud that could be heard even above the heavy rain fall. He watched you scramble for your papers, your hair clinging to your face, rivulets of water running down your brow and dripping off your nose. Your bag had burst open, the contents spilling forth into a puddle, your phone almost entirely submerged. Jeong-Man watched people walk past you, some even stepping over you as you tried desperately to retrieve your sodden belongings. You must be in pain; that had been a hell of a fall.

Jeong-Man wanted to go and help you, but he had a steadfast rule: never engage with anyone outside of business. He couldn’t risk it, not in his line of work. But then he saw you trying to stuff your papers back in your purse, only for them to disintegrate into soggy mush in your hands. He couldn’t tell due to the rain and the darkness, but he was sure you were crying. He couldn’t leave you like that; it would make him as selfish as everyone else who passed you by.

“Do you need help?” he asked, his voice drowned out by the pouring rain. “Miss?” he said, louder this time. “Do you need help?” “I’m… I’m ok!” you called back. You’d definitely been crying, your voice was thick with emotion.

Jeong-Man watched as you tried to stand, your bare knees bloodied, the blood running down your shins mixing with the rain. You cried out as you put weight on your left ankle. With the tumble you’d taken, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was broken.

“Let me help you.” Jeong-Man’s arm encircled your waist, half walking, half dragging you down the road. “I think you need to go to the hospital,” he mused, your hisses of pain echoing in his ear. He was acutely aware of your vanilla perfume, the scent clinging to your skin despite the downpour. Your hair smelled like shea butter and even though your mascara cascaded down your face, you were remarkable.

“Probably,” you laughed, gritting your teeth as another wave of pain shot through your ankle. “Hopefully I die of embarrassment first, though.” Jeong-Man laughed as he eased you into the car, handing you a towel from the backseat. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be inviting a stranger into his car. The inside of his busted up mini-van had seen its far share of beatings, dead bodies and interrogations. And now it housed a beautiful, rain-soaked woman who probably couldn’t even begin to imagine the atrocities he’d committed, even in her worst nightmares. But he also couldn’t leave you, he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t step in. He’d just drop you at the nearest hospital and then be on his way. He’d never see you again after today, but he’d rest easy knowing he’d helped you.

The inside of his car was soaked, your vanilla-shea scent combo filling the car. “I’m so sorry,” you muttered, trying to wipe down the gearbox. “I am so embarrassed.” Jeong-Man smiled. “Everyone takes a tumble now and again,” he assured you. “Yeah, but only kids bust up their knees like this. I’m a grown woman. I should have a little more spatial awareness.”

As Jeong-Man pulled away from his parking spot, he turned to you. “Where were you hurrying off to?” You were dressed professionally in a skirt and heels, not designer brands, but decent threads all the same. “I was coming back from a meeting,” you told him. “I was rushing to get to the subway because I just wanted to go home. I’d forgotten my umbrella so figured I’d just make a run for it. In hindsight, probably shouldn’t have run in heels.”

Despite his better judgement, he found himself wondering where you lived, and who you lived with. Did you have a boyfriend? A husband? Was there someone to take you home after the hospital patched you up? He couldn’t let himself think like that, couldn’t let his mind wander.

The lights of the hospital came in to view sooner than Jeong-Man would have liked. He didn’t want to say goodbye, didn’t want to leave you knowing he’d never see you again. But that was life, and Jeong-Man didn’t belong in yours.

He helped you out of the car, your whimpers of pain pulling on the heart he didn’t realise he had. “Can I carry you?” he asked, “I don’t think you should be putting weight on that ankle.” “Ok,” you nodded, but he could see embarrassment flash in your eyes. “Just don’t drop me.” “I won’t drop you,” he promised, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled.

As he carried you through the doors, a nurse noticed you, running forward with a wheelchair. He set you gently into the seat, smiling at you again. The sterile lights of the hospital did nothing to dim your beauty. He knew as he looked at you that he’d never forget your eyes. “Get yourself checked in,” Jeong-Man said. He watched as the nurse wheeled you away, fighting with his head and heart. He wanted to stay, but he knew he couldn’t. His world didn’t allow for someone like you to be a part of it.

He turned and left before you were done registering yourself, not daring to look back. The scent of you clung to his jacket, the softness of your voice still lingering in his ears. The rain had all but ceased now, and Jeong-Man had work to do.

He hoped you had someone to care for you, to make sure you got home and were well-fed and looked after. Maybe in another life, Jeong-Man could have stayed, could have made sure you got home, cooked you some food and made sure you were warm and dry.