Fic: Snapshots Through Time Part 6 and 7
Part 4 and 5
Red
This was not a crime scene like one he’d seen before. Nor like one he hoped to ever see again. There was blood everywhere. It would have reminded him of his time overseas save for the one glaring feature that was staring everyone in the face as they entered the room. A smile, painted in the victim’s blood, where it was impossible to miss. This was not the first crime scene like this that had cropped up around California, and that is why they were there. They were going to take on the case. Dubbed “Red John” by one of the local cops on the case early on, the serial killer seemed to lack any sort of motive or MO, aside from choosing women as his victims. Cho closed his eyes for a brief moment to gather his thoughts; this was going to take all the strength he had. They would find this monster, with any luck before he killed again.
Green
He loved the springtime. The rebirth after the death of winter always brought hope and good fortune to those looking for it. He had become stoic at work, rarely sharing his emotions. This is how he kept the anger at bay. He had embraced it as Teresa had suggested, and he had come to recognize it for what it was. A fierce protective instinct. It was what made him a good cop and a good friend. And the anger was less pronounced. It was still there, but it wasn’t the main thing.
Blue
There had been another out of town case. One that required the team to spend the night in a town so small it didn’t show up on their GPS. Much like before he and Teresa ended up alone one night staring at the stars. They talked of the case, a single woman killed by a man she had spurned in love. That’s what it always came down to. Love. Conversation turned to their love lives or lack there or. Cho said that he dreamed of finding love, of finding someone who would take him with all of his scars. Teresa said that she hoped for the same, but that she was losing faith in humanity. All the pain, all the suffering, all the death and destruction. It was almost too much. He saw for the first time the pain she kept inside. He felt guilty for not recognizing it before. He reached out to her, cradling her in his arms, soothing her tears and fears. They stayed together that night, clinging to each other for strength.
Hot
Summer and the desert. They always went together. Less of an issue now than before. The desert always called to him. And fire. He was glad he was not the arson expert. He stood aside while Rigsby paced and paused and tested. He indicated the areas that he wanted samples taken from for testing. They almost hadn’t come to this town. The local authorities had initially thought that they fires that had been starting in abandoned cabins in the brush were accidents. It had been exceptionally hot and dry and the cabins tended to have poorly maintained propane tanks. But then they found the body. The case would be solved soon, it always was. And they would be gone from this dusty baron wasteland. Their last night in town there was a knock at Cho’s hotel room door, and on the other side a vision in shorts and a t-shirt. The town had a midsummer festival with loud music and dancing. He’d never had more fun than that night. Hot and sweaty under the desert moon, with a beautiful woman in his arms.
Cold
He’d never been ice-skating before. Not once. He’ never seen the point of sliding around on ice with razors strapped to his feet. But here he was, trying to walk across the slick ice to a body with one of those razor sharp blades sticking out of his chest. Cho had only managed to make it ten feet, but at least he hadn’t fallen down. He paused in his awkward shuffle to watch the one member of the CBI team who had reached the body. She had put on a pair of skates and was carefully gliding around the body taking to the uniform op who was watching over the body. She was a natural. He wanted to see her on the ice without a body on it. He knew it would be angelic.
Childhood
Cases with kids were always hard, but this one seemed to effect the team a bit more. Cho sat in his hotel room worrying about Teresa. She had seemed especially hard hit by this case, an alcoholic father with a temper he took out on his kids. Cho wasn’t even sure why they had been called out for this case. It had been pretty open and shut. A conflict of interest was the best guess. The sheriff was the brother of the killer. Cho thought back to their last night in the desert when Teresa came to him, had kept him busy to keep him out of his own head. She needed that from him now. He knocked on her door and found her barely holding on to what little control she had. He sat with her and listened to her tell of her father and mother and brothers. And like she had so many times for him, he saved her from herself.
Fear
He hadn’t been there when the shots were fired. He hadn’t been there when she needed him the most. He knew there was a chance that there would be a gunfight and he still let her go with only that idiot Hannigan to back her up. And now they were at the hospital, him in the waiting room, Teresa in the operating room. And he was afraid. Not in the way he had been in the desert, he was not afraid for himself, but for her. And he knew that fear would stay with him until the doctor came and told him it was over.
World
He told her about Europe. About walking along the river in the snow and the old buildings mixed in with the new. He told her about the Middle East, not just the desert, but the markets and the animals and the people who were good and just wanted their countries back. He told her this while she had a breathing tube down her throat and wires strapped to her chest. And the fear was still there.
Stormy
The sun was too bright and the colors in the world around him were too sharp. The grass was just a bit too green. The white of the tombstones around him gleamed as though they were made of marble. Her grave was before him, coffin posed above a gaping hole in the earth. This was wrong. She couldn’t be dead. He looked around at her brothers and coworkers, heads bowed in respect. This was wrong. She couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t go on if she was dead. It should have been him in that coffin, not her. He tried to run, tried to move closer, tried to push off the gaudy bouquet on the lid but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move. His breath was sticking in his throat, he wanted to scream but no sound came. Just when he thought that he would be stuck in this too bright world he jerked awake. She was still alive. Hooked up to machines making sure that she could breath, that her heart could beat. He reached out and touched her hand where it lay on top of the sheet. Warm, and comforting. She was going to live. She had to.
Beach
When she woke, he wasn’t there. The nurse had sent him home to get “real” sleep. Though all he had done was shower and toss and turn thinking of her. When the call came from the hospital his heart stopped, but he couldn’t stop smiling when the nurse told him the good news. She was released and given therapy and bed rest and instructions to take a vacation to let her body heal. And she took him with her. The one person she could trust with her secrets. The one person who wouldn’t ask for more than she could give. They spent a week on the beach. She was afraid to wear a swimsuit but he told her she was beautiful no matter what and that her scars were just a testament to how strong she was. And for a week, they pretended that the world didn’t exist.
Part 8
Red
This was not a crime scene like one he’d seen before. Nor like one he hoped to ever see again. There was blood everywhere. It would have reminded him of his time overseas save for the one glaring feature that was staring everyone in the face as they entered the room. A smile, painted in the victim’s blood, where it was impossible to miss. This was not the first crime scene like this that had cropped up around California, and that is why they were there. They were going to take on the case. Dubbed “Red John” by one of the local cops on the case early on, the serial killer seemed to lack any sort of motive or MO, aside from choosing women as his victims. Cho closed his eyes for a brief moment to gather his thoughts; this was going to take all the strength he had. They would find this monster, with any luck before he killed again.
Green
He loved the springtime. The rebirth after the death of winter always brought hope and good fortune to those looking for it. He had become stoic at work, rarely sharing his emotions. This is how he kept the anger at bay. He had embraced it as Teresa had suggested, and he had come to recognize it for what it was. A fierce protective instinct. It was what made him a good cop and a good friend. And the anger was less pronounced. It was still there, but it wasn’t the main thing.
Blue
There had been another out of town case. One that required the team to spend the night in a town so small it didn’t show up on their GPS. Much like before he and Teresa ended up alone one night staring at the stars. They talked of the case, a single woman killed by a man she had spurned in love. That’s what it always came down to. Love. Conversation turned to their love lives or lack there or. Cho said that he dreamed of finding love, of finding someone who would take him with all of his scars. Teresa said that she hoped for the same, but that she was losing faith in humanity. All the pain, all the suffering, all the death and destruction. It was almost too much. He saw for the first time the pain she kept inside. He felt guilty for not recognizing it before. He reached out to her, cradling her in his arms, soothing her tears and fears. They stayed together that night, clinging to each other for strength.
Hot
Summer and the desert. They always went together. Less of an issue now than before. The desert always called to him. And fire. He was glad he was not the arson expert. He stood aside while Rigsby paced and paused and tested. He indicated the areas that he wanted samples taken from for testing. They almost hadn’t come to this town. The local authorities had initially thought that they fires that had been starting in abandoned cabins in the brush were accidents. It had been exceptionally hot and dry and the cabins tended to have poorly maintained propane tanks. But then they found the body. The case would be solved soon, it always was. And they would be gone from this dusty baron wasteland. Their last night in town there was a knock at Cho’s hotel room door, and on the other side a vision in shorts and a t-shirt. The town had a midsummer festival with loud music and dancing. He’d never had more fun than that night. Hot and sweaty under the desert moon, with a beautiful woman in his arms.
Cold
He’d never been ice-skating before. Not once. He’ never seen the point of sliding around on ice with razors strapped to his feet. But here he was, trying to walk across the slick ice to a body with one of those razor sharp blades sticking out of his chest. Cho had only managed to make it ten feet, but at least he hadn’t fallen down. He paused in his awkward shuffle to watch the one member of the CBI team who had reached the body. She had put on a pair of skates and was carefully gliding around the body taking to the uniform op who was watching over the body. She was a natural. He wanted to see her on the ice without a body on it. He knew it would be angelic.
Childhood
Cases with kids were always hard, but this one seemed to effect the team a bit more. Cho sat in his hotel room worrying about Teresa. She had seemed especially hard hit by this case, an alcoholic father with a temper he took out on his kids. Cho wasn’t even sure why they had been called out for this case. It had been pretty open and shut. A conflict of interest was the best guess. The sheriff was the brother of the killer. Cho thought back to their last night in the desert when Teresa came to him, had kept him busy to keep him out of his own head. She needed that from him now. He knocked on her door and found her barely holding on to what little control she had. He sat with her and listened to her tell of her father and mother and brothers. And like she had so many times for him, he saved her from herself.
Fear
He hadn’t been there when the shots were fired. He hadn’t been there when she needed him the most. He knew there was a chance that there would be a gunfight and he still let her go with only that idiot Hannigan to back her up. And now they were at the hospital, him in the waiting room, Teresa in the operating room. And he was afraid. Not in the way he had been in the desert, he was not afraid for himself, but for her. And he knew that fear would stay with him until the doctor came and told him it was over.
World
He told her about Europe. About walking along the river in the snow and the old buildings mixed in with the new. He told her about the Middle East, not just the desert, but the markets and the animals and the people who were good and just wanted their countries back. He told her this while she had a breathing tube down her throat and wires strapped to her chest. And the fear was still there.
Stormy
The sun was too bright and the colors in the world around him were too sharp. The grass was just a bit too green. The white of the tombstones around him gleamed as though they were made of marble. Her grave was before him, coffin posed above a gaping hole in the earth. This was wrong. She couldn’t be dead. He looked around at her brothers and coworkers, heads bowed in respect. This was wrong. She couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t go on if she was dead. It should have been him in that coffin, not her. He tried to run, tried to move closer, tried to push off the gaudy bouquet on the lid but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move. His breath was sticking in his throat, he wanted to scream but no sound came. Just when he thought that he would be stuck in this too bright world he jerked awake. She was still alive. Hooked up to machines making sure that she could breath, that her heart could beat. He reached out and touched her hand where it lay on top of the sheet. Warm, and comforting. She was going to live. She had to.
Beach
When she woke, he wasn’t there. The nurse had sent him home to get “real” sleep. Though all he had done was shower and toss and turn thinking of her. When the call came from the hospital his heart stopped, but he couldn’t stop smiling when the nurse told him the good news. She was released and given therapy and bed rest and instructions to take a vacation to let her body heal. And she took him with her. The one person she could trust with her secrets. The one person who wouldn’t ask for more than she could give. They spent a week on the beach. She was afraid to wear a swimsuit but he told her she was beautiful no matter what and that her scars were just a testament to how strong she was. And for a week, they pretended that the world didn’t exist.
Part 8