Unhinged; Han Jisung.

ten.

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A week later, no more bodies, no more evidence, and the case went cold. No more bodies was a good thing, but that also meant no more clues would be given. Changmin already deemed the case closed, and he set it aside.

Hyunjin was recovering well, which you were happy about. Hyeon called a couple times and told you that she was put in therapy and that she really liked her therapist. She said she missed you and couldn't wait for the next time she got to see you.

Yet, you still couldn't shake the feeling the case had been giving you. You knew there was more to it, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. There was absolutely no way that there was nothing to help you find your killer. The women and men that died throughout that case deserved justice, and you were disappointed in yourself that you couldn't bring it to them.

On the other hand, you visited Doctor Lee for a checkup on the pregnancy, and she said that it was going very well so far. The truth was, you were worried that your line of work would put yours and Jisung's baby in danger, but you swore to yourself that you would do anything to protect him or her.

Jisung, the baby, and your team were really keeping you together. They were trying everything to take your mind off the case, and even if you did for a few hours, it always came back. You wondered how your mother handled cold cases, knowing very well she probably never had any because she was just that good.

You testified in Sang-Ook's trial, and after hours of bickering and proving your point, the jury came to a decision. The defendant was guilty with first degree murder and intent to cause terroristic harm.

Your eyes were closed, your hands clasped on your chest, your breathing deep, as someone knocked on your door. You listened closely and grabbed your gun from behind the pillow on the couch and quietly made your way to the front door. You looked through the peep hole and shook your head, swinging the door open.

"Taejun."

He looked down at your gun and stepped into your home. "Don't get trigger happy."

"Sure, welcome in." You shut the door and assessed him, knowing he had a weapon on him. "Give me your gun."

"Excuse me?"

"Just put it on the table, Taejun."

He sighed and reached under his jacket, taking his gun out of his holster. You gave him a look and he ejected the clip, handing it to you, then he put his gun on the dining room table.

"What about your gun?"

"My house." You shrugged. "Too many people have been in this apartment with malicious intent."

He hummed and went into your living room, sitting on your couch. "We really need to talk, Y/N.

"About?"

"Us." He said. "I feel like you have a problem with me. I don't know if it's because of my clients and your suspects, or something else."

"I was a bit disappointed that you were with the bad guys, honestly. I get that it's your profession, and I get that you make good money, but justice needs to be served."

"I'm doing justice to the people I'm defending."

You nodded. "Of course."

"I thought Sang-Ook would win his case, but you sold your side pretty well."

"I didn't sell anything. I told the truth."

He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. "I didn't come here to argue. I came to make up. We shouldn't have tension like this."

"I know." You said. "After you left during our sophomore year, I felt a bit betrayed. I mean, you didn't tell me, just up and left."

He stood up and walked over to you. "I know, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you. It would've broken my heart to see your reaction. You were my best friend and I didn't want to leave you, but I didn't have a choice."

He reached for your waist, but you pushed his hand away and shook your head. "You came to talk. That's it."

"Are you shooting me down?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

He nodded and stepped back, pulling a bottle out of his blazer- a pill bottle. You looked closely at the label and bit your bottom lip. Diazepam, and it wasn't in his name either. He swallowed a couple and put them back, then he turned to you again.

"You've always been a bit clueless." He said, backing up to the table where his gun laid. "About how I really felt."

You were leaning against the wall, your arms crossed and your finger on the trigger of your gun. "I guess so. Why don't you tell me how you feel."

He turned around and got in his pocket again, quickly putting another clip into his gun and pointing it at you. "You've always been smarter than me, more successful, better. It drives me insane. Why do you think I killed women that had authority, that looked like you?"

"It's more than that, Taejun. If you hate me, you would've killed me by now."

"Oh, I hate you." He smirked. "I just want you to fear me before I kill you. I want to torture you, I want you to have to look over your shoulder for a long, long time."

"Why didn't you do it in high school?"

"I was immature then, Y/N. Now, I can get away with whatever I want."

"Sang-Ook and the bomb?" You questioned.

He tilted his head. "Like I said, you're smart. You can figure that one out."

His trigger finger moved, so you shot first and hit him in the leg. He collapsed to the ground and groaned loudly, but got up anyways. He hobbled over to you, and before you could shoot again, he pushed you into the wall, hard enough to knock the gun out of your hand. He pushed you again, your head hitting the wall this time, making you fall to your knees.

The last thing you saw before you passed out was the painting of your family.

You hissed in pain as you came back to your senses, fully aware of the zip ties around your wrists. You were leaning against the coffee table, and Taejun was staring down at you while twirling his gun in his hand. He had tied his wound up to stop the bleeding and he was not happy that you shot him.

"Look who's back." He bit. "Did shooting me make you feel better?"

"I should've shot you in the chest."

He hummed and got up, limping over to you and bending down. He grabbed your face and licked his lips.

"The first mistake you made," he paused. "Was ever trusting me."

He got back up and pointed the gun at you again, pulling the trigger. You gasped in pain and fear as the bullet went straight into your abdomen. He smirked and grabbed his things leaving you tied up and in pain. You pulled on the zip ties, hoping that pulling hard enough would undo them. After several minutes of struggling, the zip ties gave away and you fell to your side. You crawled to the other side of the coffee table where your phone was and called an ambulance.

You tried so hard to stay awake before the ambulance got there, but you just couldn't.

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