In Your Bones: Chapter 1
10 months earlier...
“Another body has been discovered, this time today in a dumpster. Mangled beyond recognition with another design carved into the right bicep, it is believed to be the work of the serial killer Kai, who has been on the loose for six months. No leads have popped up in the case, and detectives are working fast to identify the body. Police have not yet confirmed whether it is a male or female, or if the body fits the description of any missing people. The mark left on the victim this time seemed to be in the shape of-”
Jongdae turns off the television, pinching the bridge of his nose before rubbing the center of his forehead. From the other side of the divider separating their cubicles, Sehun groans in obvious complaint of the news being turned off.
“We already know all the details,” Jongdae says, standing up from his desk and grabbing his suit jacket, draping it over his arm as he collects his papers into the briefcase.
He hears Sehun’s pout in his voice, “It’s important to watch the news. Sometimes they know details they’re not supposed to, or sometimes they give inaccurate facts. We have to keep an eye on them.”
“So then maybe you should have became a reporter instead of a detective,” Jongdae says with a falsely bright smile as he snaps his briefcase closed.
Sehun rolls his eyes. “You don’t get to be all up close and personal in investigations as a reporter.”
“You can be if you find a dirty or stupid cop,” Jongdae says, shutting off his desk lamp.
Sehun shrugs and also stands up from his desk. “What case are you assigned to right now?”
Jongdae groans. “A missing woman. She attended her first day of school, was seen leaving the school, and then vanished. I found her car and her belongings inside…” he snorts a little. “Only her debit card was missing. I found a paper trail of it and caught her on camera at a corner store two hours away- And you know what? Her fiance told me that she’s gone missing, on purpose, once before. I saw her on camera buying cigarettes but the department is still keeping me on the case because activity went dead after that.”
Whistling, Sehun shakes his head. “That’s ridiculous.” He grins. “But at least it’s a case. I’ve been doing desk work for three weeks.”
Jongdae laughs a little, “That’s because no one trusts you in the field.”
Sehun gathers up his things and starts following Jongdae out of the office, “I’ve only messed up one time, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“You got in a fight with a teenage civilian,” Jongdae graciously reminds him as they get into the elevator.
Sehun grumbles, “Punk deserved what he got.”
“And therefore, you deserve desk work.”
Jongdae laughs, and Sehun pouts. They’ll still go out for drinks tonight, anyway.
-
A stack of files gets dropped on Jongdae’s desk when he’s zoning out, and he startles in surprise. The rollers of his chair squeak a little in protest of his weight shifting so violently, and when he looks up to see who’s standing at his side, Jongdae immediately jumps up so he can bow.
“Chief!” he greets.
“Jongdae,” the man greets in return with a little laugh. “Don’t address me so formally, it’s weird. You’re older than me.”
Jongdae smiles widely and reaches forward to knuckle the Chief’s hair affectionately. “Whatever, Jongin. You like me being subordinate to you.”
Jongin waggles his brows playfully in response. Sehun gags in the background. Laughing a bit, Jongin rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Slowly but surely, the playful mood dampens bit by bit until he speaks. “I’m really sorry to do this to you, but do you think you can take on the Kai case?”
The entire office goes silent. Jongdae stares at Jongin, wide-eyed, and Sehun shoots up from his chair to stand, obviously wanting to catch every detail without shame.
“Uhm-” Jongdae clears his throat a bit. “What?”
“Joonmyun was working on it,” Jongin’s gaze lowers a bit, brows knitting.
That’s news to everyone in the room. The Kai case has been Top Secret since the first murder six months ago.
“Right, because he’s the best detective in our precinct,” Sehun butts in.
A sense of trepidation fills Jongdae to the core as he looks at the expression on Jongin’s features. “... Why isn’t Joonmyun on the case anymore…?”
Jongin’s gaze rises to meet Jongdae’s, the expression a bit hollow. “He went missing this morning.”
The office immediately goes uproarious, people loudly asking what that meant, who saw him, how does a detective go missing when he had a whole team behind him? Sehun looks shellshocked. Jongdae feels sick to his stomach.
“Even I didn’t know he was working on the case,” Jongdae says slowly. “No one but you and his team knew.”
At times like this, Jongin looks old beyond his years. There’s a bit of stubble on his chin and upper lip, and his eyes maybe look a little bit more hollow than before - but, that could be Jongdae’s imagination. He knows Jongin carved his way to the top with high performance scores and a drive like no other. He is a prodigy in this jurisdiction and often gets called upon for counsel on cases all around the country. He has constructed a team of detectives with many strengths and attributes, who can carry each other’s weaknesses. They’re an indestructible force with Jongin as their fearless leader. And now… Joonmyun, one of the most highly respected officers in the unit, is missing.
“I need you to do this,” Jongin says, resting his hand atop the files that he’d set down on Jongdae’s desk. His eyes are imploring, but a bit on the firm side. “I’m asking you this as my officer… and as Joonmyun’s friend.”
Jongdae’s eyes look down to where Jongin’s tan hand is resting on the manila folder beneath it. He swallows thickly - the obvious conclusion is that Joonmyun went missing due to his involvement in the Kai case. If Jongdae takes on the responsibility his own life is at risk, as well.
But, Jongdae knows… sometimes it takes a life to save one.
“I’ll take it,” Jongdae says, looking up at Jongin. His hand lifts to rest on the taller man’s shoulder, squeezing firmly, almost comfortingly. “Who’s taking the lead on investigating what happened to Joonmyun?”
The file in Jongin’s spare hand is held out to his left side, towards Sehun. “You.”
Sehun’s jaw drops. “Me?”
Jongin’s smile is rueful, “You’ve been complaining about desk work, right?”
Sehun takes the file with shaky fingers, not daring to open it just yet. “Y-yeah…”
Jongin’s gaze returns to Jongdae’s, and he moves his hand to rest it atop the one Jongdae has on his shoulder. His fingers gently wrap around Jongdae’s wrist and he gives a thankful, returning squeeze.
“We’ll rendez-vous for lunch in three hours. In the meantime, please go through the files.”
Jongdae stares at Jongin’s erected back as the man leaves the room. Jongin’s eyes may have been heavy, but his spine is strong under the burden.
Jongdae respects the man with every fiber of his being.
-
Jongdae feels like his head is about to split open. Since being handed the Kai case at eight in the morning he hasn’t slept, he’s barely eaten, and he’s probably had enough beer to knock out a horse. It’s two o’clock in the morning and he’s at home, some of the files spread out on his coffee table, another stack on the floor. He has his laptop open, the light from it hurting his eyes since every other light in the house is off. His fingers move on their own accord, typing things into his laptop, marking things down in his notebook with his pen, sifting through the pages and pictures in the files. He has six months of work to catch up on, and Joonmyun is nothing but thorough. There are notes that Jongdae doesn’t quite understand, but he takes them down anyway, tucking them away mentally in his head and physically in his notebook.
He doesn’t end up sleeping at all. When he enters the office at seven-thirty the next morning he sets the case files down on his desk carefully, and then sits heavily in his chair. He didn’t even have a chance to get coffee - he had been so immersed in his research that he lost track of time until his alarm went off and then had to rush to make sure he punched in on time.
“Jesus,” Sehun is peering at Jongdae over the divide of their cubicles. “Did you get any sleep?”
Jongdae shakes his head. “No. This shit is heavy.”
Sehun makes some sort of noise in the back of his throat, and then walks away. Figures. Jongdae slumps in his chair a bit, staring at the case files. Sighing heavily, he opens up his laptop. It’s been twenty-four hours, but he thinks he’s starting to understand the direction in which the case was going.
Ten minutes pass, and the smell of coffee gets significantly stronger. Sitting up, Jongdae glances over and sees Sehun standing a bit awkwardly by the edge of his desk, holding a to-go coffee cup from the place Jongdae usually frequents. Blinking, Jongdae looks up at Sehun.
“Uh,” Sehun holds out the cup, not meeting Jongdae’s gaze. “Good luck, and all that shit. Take a nap on your lunch break.”
Smiling gratefully, Jongdae takes the cup from Sehun, chuckling. “Thank you, Sehun.”
He tries not to linger on the kind gesture for too long. He and Sehun have been friends since they were both in police academy and their relationship is a bit odd to outsiders, but Jongdae knows they both care for each other a lot more than they let on.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he returns to his work with a little more focus and a slightly lighter heart.
-
Four days later, Sehun’s phone rings. Since he’s taken on Joonmyun’s missing person’s case he’s been in contact with anyone and everyone who might have leads or a connection. Hearing his phone ring is not new at all. Jongdae barely even pays attention, before his ears prick at the sudden change in Sehun’s voice from bored to alarmed.
“You what?”
Jongdae stands up from his seat to peer over the divider. Sehun is curled in on himself, shoulders hunched, one hand tangled in his brown locks and the other in a white-knuckled grip on his phone with his elbows digging hard into the surface of his desk. He’s trembling. Something is wrong.
“I’ll tell Chief. Don’t touch anything. Don’t move. Don’t-I’m on my way. Fuck.”
“Sehun?” Jongdae frowns as Sehun stands from his seat, his shaky fingers grabbing his badge, cell phone, and opening his drawer for his gun. “Sehun.”
Sehun looks up at Jongdae with bright, fearful eyes. “They found Joonmyun. Jongdae, he’s dead.”
-
It’s raining when Jongdae and Sehun show up to the crime scene. Their black umbrellas are fitting, Jongdae thinks sardonically. Their suits are fitting. Everything fits the mood for a funeral… including who’s sprawled on his back on the grimy ground of a back alley, throat slashed and skin so sallow it looks like he’d been tortured for years.
Sehun has never been emotionally strong. He acts aloof and detached, but the truth is that one time he cried when his landlord wouldn’t let him keep a kitten he rescued, and then when his girlfriend broke up with him it took four weeks for him to even talk to another female without getting choked up with memories.
So when Sehun’s shoulders tremble, his hand covering his mouth as they look upon their longtime friend, mangled and lifeless, Jongdae reaches for him. He finds a limp hand, laces their fingers and presses their palms strongly and surely together, his brows knitted as he does his best to stay strong for his best friend, his comrade. The rain is washing away the blood and Joonmyun looks like a sacrificed angel, skin porcelain, eyes unseeing up to the Heavens, limbs spread.
“Christ,” Jongin’s voice behind them startles Jongdae, the other officers on scene saluting in respect. Jongdae watches as Jongin steps forward without an umbrella, crouching down so he can examine Joonmyun’s body close up.
It’s so surreal. This isn’t the first dead body Jongdae has seen, but it’s the first that he’s known. It’s the first that he’s seen something that is merely a ghost of the life it was before; Joonmyun’s eye smile, his warm laugh, his huge heart and his kind hugs. All of those things are gone forever. At the beginning of this, Jongdae had hope that Joonmyun was alive - the man was smart and cunning when he had to be. Surely some serial killer couldn’t get the best of him. Right?
But the truth is right in front of them.
Jongin snaps on a pair of latex gloves and starts pulling at Joonmyun’s clothes - the suit he had worn to work on the last day he was seen alive - checking his pockets, sleeves, anywhere and everywhere. Jongdae does his best to be as detached as Jongin is, but his guts aren’t made of steel. Sehun isn’t looking, staring at the ground instead, and Jongdae instead is regarding him. How his fingers tremble against his cheeks with his palm pressed solidly to his mouth, tears tumbling down over his knuckles, how his nostrils flare with every breath he tries to control.
“Shit,” Jongin’s curse brings Jongdae back to the present. “Jongdae… could you come here? With a camera.”
One of the officers hands Jongdae the crime scene camera and Jongdae adjusts his umbrella, stepping forward so he can partially cover Jongin and himself. Jongin shifts so Jongdae can see where he’s lifted the bloodied shirt; Joonmyun’s stomach has been slashed open, and at first it looks like random hacks until Jongin starts pointing with a finger, tracing an invisible line.
“Another symbol,” Jongdae breathes. “Kai.”
Jongin exhales softly. “Get a picture. Just of the belly.” his gaze travels upwards. “I don’t want any other photos to be taken.” I want to remember Joonmyun how he was, not how he was found.
Jongdae complies, the flash muted from the rain. It’ll be good enough, he thinks, as he checks the digital display. He’s starting to feel nauseous.
“Please handle this delicately,” Jongin says to the officers as the coroner shows up. He calls out to backup officers that are starting to arrive, “Seal off the area. No one gets in, no one takes photos - no one should be able to zoom in close enough to see the color of your shoes. Got it?” There’s severity in his voice, and it makes everyone salute in acceptance.
“Sehun, take the rest of the day - the week - off. Your case is closed,” Jongin says as he passes by the brunette. The case isn’t closed, but everyone knows Jongin won’t make Sehun continue to work on it under these circumstances.
Sehun stays rooted to the spot, and Jongdae reaches out for him to grab his hand again. “Do you want to stay at my place?” Jongdae asks. “You can.”
Nodding vaguely, Sehun is quiet, his eyes still on the ground. Jongdae presses his spare key into Sehun’s hand and then pulls him into a tight, brief hug, kissing his head. “I’ll bring home dinner and some clothes for you.” He pulls out his cell phone and calls a cab, telling Sehun where it will pick him up. “Don’t do anything stupid, ok?” he says as a warning.
Finally, Sehun looks up into Jongdae’s eyes, tear tracks stained into his BB cream. “Just come home tonight.” Don’t die.
Jongdae’s heart does this awful thing between squeezing and freezing over. He offers a tepid smile, “I will.”
He will.
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