Chapter 5 – Don’t Do That Again
It had been raining all day.
The kind that didn’t pour hard, just stayed – soaking everything slowly until the whole city felt tired.
Ido stood under the police tape, pulling on his gloves while watching officers move equipment toward the warehouse entrance. The place looked abandoned, but lights had been spotted inside earlier.
Possible holding site.
Which meant possible victims.
Which meant nobody was relaxed.
Geon-woo stood a few steps away talking through comms, voice steady as always. If someone didn’t know him, they’d think this was just another routine operation.
Ido knew better now.
Geon-woo only got quieter when he was worried.
Their eyes met briefly.
“Stay with your team,” Geon-woo said as he walked past him.
Ido almost laughed. “I always do.”
Geon-woo gave him a look that clearly said you absolutely don’t, but he didn’t argue.
“Move in.”
The inside of the warehouse was dark and smelled like wet metal.
Flashlights moved across stacked crates and broken machinery. Every step echoed too loudly. Water dripped somewhere in the distance.
Ido’s senses stayed sharp, adrenaline humming just under his skin.
“Marks here,” he whispered, pointing at rope fibers near a chair.
Geon-woo nodded. “Recent.”
A noise suddenly came from above.
Running footsteps.
“Second floor!” someone shouted.
Boots pounded overhead.
The team moved instantly, splitting directions. Voices overlapped through the comms. Flashlights swung across walls as everyone adjusted positions.
Ido stayed on the lower level, sweeping his light across stacked crates, trying to track the sound above…
Then-
A sharp crack echoed through the warehouse.
Not a gunshot.
Ido froze.
The sound came again, louder this time – wood straining, metal twisting somewhere above him.
His stomach dropped.
“…Wait-”
The ceiling gave out.
It didn’t collapse all at once. Pieces breaking apart in a violent chain reaction. Dust burst downward. Beams snapped. Something massive crashed toward him.
Ido barely threw his arms up before the world slammed sideways.
Impact.
The floor hit hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. Pain exploded through his ribs as debris scattered around him.
For a second, there was no sound.
Just a high ringing filling his head.
He opened his mouth but nothing came out except airless coughing.
Dust coated his throat. His vision blurred.
He tried to push himself up-
Pain shot through his side so sharply he dropped back down with a strained gasp.
Something heavy pinned his leg.
He blinked, trying to focus, brain still catching up to what just happened.
“…Great,” he wheezed hoarsely, coughing through the dust. “Fantastic.”
Somewhere, voices shouted his name.
His radio crackled somewhere out of reach.
“Ido?” voices shouted through static.
He tried to answer but only managed a rough cough.
Then-
“Ido!”
Geon-woo’s voice.
Closer than expected.
Relief hit before he could stop it.
“I’m here,” he managed.
Debris shifted as Geon-woo climbed over the wreckage, ignoring the officers yelling behind him to wait.
When he reached him, his calm mask was gone.
“Don’t move,” Geon-woo said quickly, already checking him over.
“…Yes,” Ido muttered.
Another loud creak echoed above them.
The structure wasn’t stable.
“We need to go,” Ido said.
Geon-woo nodded, bracing himself against the fallen beam trapping him. Muscles tensed as he lifted just enough.
“Now.”
Ido dragged himself free, stumbling forward. The moment he was clear, Geon-woo grabbed his arm firm, grounding – like he needed proof he was actually standing.
“Are you in pain somewhere else?”
“I think so.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Ido almost smiled despite the situation.
They made it outside just as more debris crashed behind them.
Rain hit instantly, cold and real.
Paramedics rushed over, pulling Ido toward an ambulance. He sat down automatically while someone checked his head.
Across the scene, another officer was already talking to Geon-woo.
“You went in without clearance.”
Ido glanced up.
Geon-woo didn’t argue.
Didn’t explain.
Just stood there in the rain, breathing hard, eyes still fixed on him like he hadn’t fully calmed down yet.
That was when it clicked for Ido.
Geon-woo hadn’t run in because of protocol.
He’d panicked.
Later, when things settled a little, Ido walked over, blanket around his shoulders.
“You’re hurt too,” he said, noticing Geon-woo flexing his arm carefully.
“I’m fine.”
“You always say that.”
Geon-woo didn’t reply.
For a moment they just stood there, rain tapping against the pavement around them.
“You didn’t have to come in alone,” Ido said quietly.
Geon-woo let out a slow breath.
“Yes, I did.”
The answer came too fast. Too honest.
He seemed to realize it right after and looked away.
Silence stretched between them.
Ido didn’t push.
But something had changed. He could feel it – in the way Geon-woo stayed close, like stepping away wasn’t an option yet.
Across the flashing lights and noise, Geon-woo finally understood something he’d been avoiding for weeks.
This wasn’t just about leading a team anymore.
Because when the building collapsed, he hadn’t thought about orders or safety procedures.
He’d only thought one thing.
Not him.
And that scared him more than the case ever could.