"How do you raise a house full of psychopaths, Dr. Choi?" she asked, looking back through the glass at the small boy.
"Very carefully, Dr. Min. Very carefully."
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Mingyu couldn't get to his office fast enough. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he shut the door and locked it, as if the devil himself chased him. Maybe he did. The things Mingyu had seen when he'd touched him, the man he'd thought attractive just moments before... He blinked the sweat from his eyes, willing his heart to stop thundering in his chest before he lost consciousness.
It was his first day. His first fucking day. There had to be some sort of explanation for the blood and the screaming. Maybe he'd been in the military and seen combat? Maybe he worked in law enforcement? No. That didn't make any sense. Those screams... Those men were being tortured.
He brought his knees up, bracing his elbows on them to cradle his head in his hands. Mingyu knew better than anyone that serial predators hid in plain sight. Sometimes, right under your nose. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes until little sparks of light danced behind them. This was his first. Fucking. Day. He couldn't go accusing a coworker of being a murderer. Not after last time. He couldn't handle anybody else looking at him like a...crazy person. He'd just left that environment.
"Have you thought, perhaps, you're projecting your impulses onto your co-worker?"
"You must admit it's far-fetched, gyu."
"You have to understand our concerns given your behavior."
"He's a federal agent. We think, perhaps, you just need a break."
"You're not well."
"You can't just attack people."
Their words swirled around in his head on repeat. There was nothing worse than having people who once respected him suddenly look at him as if he were crazy. He'd spent his life as an outcast. As a child, he was too small, too quiet. An easy target. Afraid of everything. Every object had the potential to send him into a downward spiral of pain and suffering. But, at the bureau, he'd had a home.
Unlike many law enforcement agencies, the FBI had lots of people like him. People who were more brain than brawn. People who were accountants and statisticians. He'd had a home there, even as the book nerd. But that was all gone, ripped away from him because he'd had the audacity to put aside his self-preservation to let his higher ups know they had a wolf among them.
They'd repaid him by branding him a lunatic and throwing him in an institution for weeks. He shook his head. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was crazy. Things he'd once been so sure of now seemed impossible. The meds they put him on just made it worse, made him doubt who he was and what he saw. Made it harder to shield himself from unwanted visions.
When his heartbeat settled into a normal rhythm, he stood, walking to his desk, attempting to mentally pull himself back together. There was no way his peers weren't out there gossiping about his collision and hasty escape. The man—the one he collided with—had to be faculty. He'd had a lanyard around his neck like Mingyu. But he hadn't been able to view what it said.
