by Merve_a_art

It was just before one o'clock in the morning, and the pack of cigarettes was now empty. My fingers were shaking as I moved the last cancer stick between my lips and lit up. 

Joon just showed up at the shelter, and was now nursing a cup that was more coffee granules than water. 

The circles under his eyes were almost purple, and he looked pallid and gaunt, as if he had lost a lot of weight recently. Just what the fuck where they investigating at the docks day in and out? That better be a gazillion won operation. 

"Thanks, Bam," Joon bowed politely as the social worker dude handed him an umbrella. It was rather chilly now, even for a late October, and it started to piss down cats and dogs. We both stood hurdled under the device, not speaking. Joon needed to come back to life first. 

We had ordered some food—or rather, Joon and Dude had, which was supposed to arrive any moment. Joon had wanted to wait until Jimin was picked up, but we had insisted he eat first. As much as I wanted Jimin home, Joon looked like a living corpse who might pass out on me any second. 

Nevertheless, I was eager to finally hear the outcome. The questions just wanted to burst out of me, but I tried to hold back until we were settled and fed.  

"Guys, Jjajangmyeon is here," Dude called a few minutes later, waving a white carrier bag. My glasses steamed up as we walked back inside, so that I stumbled over a carpet's uplifted edge. "Dude, you look exhausted," Joon said, and had the audacity to look concerned. 

"Exhausted? Me? Have you had a chance to look in a mirror lately?"

"I did, and the poor thing burst into a million pieces in shock, but that's beside the point."

"How is it beside the point? I hope they pay you extra for all the fuck you do"

Joon bit his lips and pulled his ear. "Well, nothing is a hundred percent yet, but I may be joining the special forces…" He managed to blush despite his grey skin colour. 

"That's like elite police?"

"That's exactly what it is. It also means double my salary."

"Holy fuck, man! That's amazing! But does that mean your hours will remain just as crazy as they are now?"

"Well, consider this my training hellhole," Joon joked. "No, this will be normal. Investigations can get tough. But you do get downtime in compensation. I'll be off for three weeks after this, and don't have to waste a single fucking day of holiday."

"Okay, doesn't sound too bad, I suppose. And double pay is always good."

"Talking about pay." Joon said, but then shoved an enormous glob of noodles into his mouth, slurping loudly, so that I had to wait for the rest of the sentence for a whole eighty-two seconds (yes, I bloody counted).

"So, I've spoken to the precinct. At first, they didn't want to give me any information—because I'm what?—a lowly officer from a different jurisdiction, although I could literally provide every detail from Jimin's birthdate to the address to his fucking blood type. I mean, it's fine. It's data protection and all, so I called in a little favour and phoned the chief." Joon turned to me, a proud glimmer in his eyes. "He was the one who put me up for the special forces promotion, you now. He personally told me he was really impressed with my work."

"That's…"Awesome, great, fantastic, well deserved, and I'm so proud of you. But the words didn't want to come out. All I wanted to hear was Jimin's story. 

"That's the wrong moment to celebrate. I didn't want to tell anyway until after the docks job was done and things were official. We'll celebrate then." Joon slapped my shoulder, took another bite of food, then continued. "So, the chief personally asked for access to the files, and passed the info on to me." Joon took a breath, scratched his ear. "There were a few bits and bops of info missing, so I quickly put in a call to your landlord for some additional info."

"Fucking wanker."

"Indeed. Not very fond of the police either, unless he's the one calling them. Smells a little dodgy to me, but that's a story for another day." 

I started to wiggle in my seat. I wanted to get to the bottom of this, not bitch about my landlord. 

"So anyway, I believe Jimin took care of himself this morning?"

"Yes, I had to leave at fuck in the morning that day. But I prepared everything in advance, played through the scenario with Jimin a couple of times, so he was as well prepared as possible."

"I'm sure Jimin did well, however it seemed he forgot to turn off the faucet in the kitchen?"

"That's where he's brushing his teeth. He doesn't like the bathroom sink. So he kept the water running for hours?" Well, I would see the aftereffect on my water bill, but other than that I didn't see any issue. 

"It seemed like your sink was blocked, and it flooded the place. Jimin got home to find the carpet and the floor wet, and I think at first he ignored both, and went on with his normal routine."

I nodded. That sounded like Jimin. 

"The problems started when your downstairs neighbour got home from work, and found water dripping from their ceiling. According to statements, they went up to your apartment, and shouted at Jimin to call the landlord and a plumber."

"But even if Jimin had a phone, he wouldn't know how to call Mr Yu or find the number of a plumber?" 

"No. He was completely overwhelmed with the situation and started to…" Joon trailed off, and rubbed his temples. "Well, according to the report, he began to display irritable and unhinged behaviour, was singing loudly and talking gibberish."

Jimin's speech may not always be the easiest to understand with the occasional mispronounced consonants, but how someone could confuse gibberish with a speech impairment astounded me. 

"Shit! Jimin must have been so confused and scared."

Joon nodded. "Apparently the argument got heated after this. Your neighbour kept on yelling at Jimin, which alerted your next door neighbour to the scene."

"Mr Weselsky. Of course."

"Jimin got into utter distress, and he wasn't wearing his medical helmet, so…"

"…he banged his head against the wall until he started to bleed," I finished his sentence. Of course, Mr Weselsky, who kept on insisting that Jimin was a ticking time-bomb and a danger for the neighbourhood would call the police. This was like a golden ticket.

"Mr Weselsky called the police, and informed them of disturbing behaviour, likely to be caused by drugs."

"DRUGS!" I rocketed from my chair. "This fool thinks Jimin is a drug addict? How the fuck? I told him a million times my brother is special needs. What a two-faced liar!"

Joon nodded, eerily calm. "Hence my call to your landlord, Mr Yu. Neither of us may be fond of the dude, but at least I got him to confirm that he was aware your brother was special needs, and that you had mentioned this in front of him and Mr Weselsky."

"Is that something I can use? Can I sue this rat?"

"I got my intern looking into this as we speak." Joon shoved another mouthful of food in, and I had to wait another forty-nine seconds for the story to continue. 

"Because of a staff shortage, a few rookies got sent to the scene. They arrived, found your brother screaming and shouting with blood dripping down his forehead, which seemed to confirm the complaint. With no authority on their own, they followed procedures as they had learned, and arrested Jimin to take him to a holding cell."

"I hope all of them sit in a cell of their own right now." 

"They did their job as best as they could. But their supervisor will be called in for a little hearing. They shouldn't have been sent to the scene without a higher up in charge."

I slumped back into the chair, pulling my own hair. "So they kept Jimin in a fucking holding cell until now?"

"The chief is getting the release papers signed as we speak. Once I get his call, we can go and pick up Jimin." Joon turned to look at me. "You're most welcome to stay the night at mine. You didn't want to go back home after this, and I can only imagine how Jimin will react to the place right now. Maybe staying elsewhere allows some more peace of mind."

I nodded, then eyed the Dude, who had remained quiet during our conversation. "I was already prepared to ask for a spare room here for the night," I admitted and blushed. Fucking considering sleeping in a homeless shelter over going home…I guess there was no clearer sign that it was time to move out. 

"You would be most welcome. We have a spare one available for the night, but your friend's solution sounds like a much better option."

I nodded then turned to Joon. "That's great. But I'm going to borrow your boxers tomorrow and I don't care. I'm not going back to that place to pick up any of my shit right now…"

"I have a twenty-four-hours convenience store close by. How about we stop there to get you and Jimin some essentials?" Joon suggested. 

"I guess…that's even better…" I admitted. I didn't really want to wear Joon's boxers. Nor did I want to use his toothbrush. 

I was in the middle of shoving a chicken wing into my mouth when Joon's  phone went off. "Jimin is ready to be picked up."

I didn't need to be told twice. I jumped from my chair and was out the door, before Joon even set his cutlery aside. "Come on, hurry up man," I shouted, rattling the door for the passenger seat, until Joon finally clicked it open.

"We put on the sirens, right?"

"Hyung, the street is completely vacant."

"But there may be red traffic lights."

"We can put the lights on then."

"That weather is a fucking nightmare." I complained. The street may have been empty but we were driving at snail's pace anyway because the rain was so heavy, it was impossible to see a thing, despite the wipers running overtime. 

Fortunately, the police station was only about one point eight miles away, according to the GPS. 

There was literally no one on the road but a few poor food delivery bikes and one…I shuddered at the sight…one delivery guy on an electric scooter. Involuntarily, my thoughts went back to the unfortunate guy I couldn't help but watch dying, and the confused elderly woman, who had walked into traffic because I didn't pay enough attention to her. If I hadn't been such a fucking failure that day…

"Yoongs? Hyung? Are you okay?" Joon was looking at me with a concerned expression on his face. "I've been trying to get your attention for a whole two minutes now. Are you okay?"

"I…I…think so? Why wouldn't I?"

"You tell me. You've been almost hyperventilating just now?"

I had? I hadn't noticed any of that. Much less that we'd already parked the car in front of the police building. 

"You sure you okay?"

"I will be, once I have my brother where he belongs."

Joon nodded. "All right, then. Let's go!"

I got out of the car and followed Joon into the station. It looked dark and gloomy in the middle of the night. Just ahead of us was a police offer who had a drunkard shouting slurred profanities in all directions in a tight grip. A tight grip. No handcuffs. Apparently obscene druggies were less dangerous than a distraught disabled person with the body weight of a feather. 

Joon put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it, as if he had been reading my mind and wanted to warn me not to make a scene. I nodded slightly to reassure him that I was all right. 

The station wasn't large by any means, the air was fragranced by a mixture of stale alcohol, piss, and vomit. I shouldn't have been surprised. I've been in a similar station myself. Twice. But something twisted inside my stomach. It was one thing to imagine Jimin being locked up in a holding cell with druggies and drunkards, and a completely different experience to have actual confirmation. I clenched my fists. Joon's grip on my shoulder tightened. 

"Mr Kim," I tall man in a civil suit approached us and shook Joon's hand. "And you must be Mr Min. Follow me this way please."

The man guided us to an office at the end of the hall. It was a tiny room holding a small desk with an outdated computer and an army of half emptied coffee cups. Next to the desk on a chair sat a slumped little figure clad in soiled blue jeans, one dirty slipper, and a blue shirt with superman logo print. 

Jimin was slowly rocking back and forth but there was no humming or any other movement. Neither did he look up when I shouted his name or wrapped him in my arms. It was as if he wasn't there at all mentally. 

Joon exchanged a few choice words with the other man, and signed some papers. Then we were good to go. I took Jimin by the hand and he slowly shuffled behind me. I wasn't sure whether he actually realised what was happening around him, or if he had completely shut of. Darn. Did I want to burn down that fucking place! 

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