(Image credit goes to why-k-3verything)
He knew this would happen. Ever since graduation, ever since his face had been plastered everywhere for everyone to see.
The Serial Killer’s son.
But that was Yoon Na Moo, not Chae Do Jin.
Still, that didn’t seem to matter to those his father had hurt, those who had lost loved ones because of him.
It had been a domestic violence call. Apparently a single mother’s teenage son had come home drunk and had started to throw things around, including his younger brother. Flashes of his own childhood had ignited in his mind when he’d gotten the call.
But when he’d gotten there, things had only gone from bad to worse.
He’d recognized the mother. He remembered all their faces. He’d made a point to. And she’d recognized him.
“Finally!” she’d said when she answered the door and let him and Kim Jong Hyun in. “You got here too late! He’s already gone! Just look at what he did to my son! And my house! Look at this mess! I want him-” She’d paused as her eyes came to rest on Chao Do Jin’s face. “You!” she screamed, taking a step back. “Why are you here? How dare you come here?!”
“Ma’am, I need you to calm down,” Kim Jong Hyun started to say, but the woman had already reached down to grab a broken vase and hurled it in Chae Do Jin’s direction. He was able to dodge it, but not the book that came right after it. It connected squarely with his head and had him staggering back to the door frame.
“Mom! What are you doing?!”
Chae Do Jin barely heard the young boy’s shouted question, just as he wasn’t quite aware of his partner rushing forward to stop the woman from throwing anything else. He brought his hand up to his head and brought it away red. His eye stung as blood started to drip down from the cut.
“Chae Do Jin? Hey, Do Jin-ah!” He looked up at his name and found Kim Jong Hyun looking at him, worry written all over his face. “Are you alright?”
Chae Do Jin looked passed him to see the woman sitting on the floor with her hands behind her back, undoubtedly cuffed. She was crying, as was the young boy sitting in a chair at the kitchen table. He had a black eye. Chae Do Jin brought his eyes around to meet his partner’s and gave a small smile, wiping the blood from his eye with his sleeve.
“I’m fine,” was all he said. It was all he ever said.
“Aish, that cut is still bleeding,” Kim Jong Hyun said, wincing in sympathy. He turned to look at the woman. “Do you have any bandages?”
It took her a moment to catch her breath before she spoke. “You don’t deserve any! It’s your fault this is all happening! If it wasn’t for that psychopath, my boys would still have their father!”
Chae Do Jin looked down at the floor, not saying a word.
“Hey! Hey!” Kim Jong Hyun shouted. “That’s enough! Just sit there and keep quiet!”
But she didn’t.
“Do you think Dae Jung would have fallen in with those boys if he’d still been around? Would Dae Seong cower in fear every time his hyung came home? Huh?! It’s your fault! You and that crazy father of yours! It’s your fault! Your fault…” She dissolved into wailing sobs.
“Do you know where your son likes to hang out?” Chae Do Jin said calmly, as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened. “We might be able to find him if you tell us.”
“Why?” the woman hiccuped as she gulped for breath, glaring daggers at the tall detective. “So you can kill him, too?”
Beside him, Kim Jong Hyun sighed. “Perhaps you should canvas the neighbors, see if anyone knows anything. I’ll call for backup so we can take her to the precinct.”
“No,” Chae Do Jin said, pressing his sleeve to his forehead again as he felt blood continue to dribble down his face. “Let her go. She’s just upset. She’ll be alright once I leave.” He gave another small smile and walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.
He simply stood there in the hallway for a few minutes, listening to the muffled crying behind him.
Yes, he knew this would happen eventually, and this wouldn’t be the last time, either. Not when there were so many people whose lives were disrupted because of what his father had done - men and women without their spouses; children without their parents; people who’d lost friends. And he was the only one they had in front of them to blame, to take their anger out on.
But he would endure it. He had to endure it. Because so long as he continued to put criminals behind bars, he could make sure that no one else lost their loved ones. Maybe in that way he could make up for all the pain his father had unleashed.