Title: Thicker Than Water
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Summary: When Cho's half-brother, Sam, is back on the scene, he has to work out his intentions. Is Sam telling the truth about wanting to leave the Playboys or does he have a darker ulterior motive?
Disclaimer: I do not not own the Mentalist.
Notes: Written for Agent ERA in the Paint It Red Great Stocking Exchange 2012.

Part One – You Never Know

Kimball Cho stared up at his bare ceiling as sleep continued to elude him. Sometimes, it felt like a daily battle, trying to get some rest. And somehow, it always seemed like a battle he was destined to lose. During the day, he found it easy to count his blessings: he'd escaped his troubled youth, carved out a career for himself in the army and continued to make a name for himself as an agent in one of the premier law enforcement agencies. He liked his job, enjoyed the company of his work colleagues, had a few good, close friends and generally, he felt well-adjusted and settled.

But at night, that was when the problems began.

His past began to seep to the forefront of his mind. The people he'd maimed when running with the Avon Park Playboys hounded him, asked for explanations and apologies for the foolishness of his youth. The people he'd shot when he'd been a sniper in Iraq haunted him, begged for mercy and failing that, wished the worst upon him. Even the individuals he'd wrongly arrested or accidentally injured in the line of duty wouldn't leave him in peace. The ghosts of his past continually called out for his blood and there was little he could do to silence them.

It was surprising, just how troubled somebody could appear in the dead of the night.

Tonight, he had one specific individual troubling him, however: his half-brother, Kyung-Sam.

Sam had always looked up to Cho, even though he hadn't cared much for it at the time. It had disappointed him when Sam had chosen to join the Playboys just as Cho was making plans for his escape. Equally, he knew that his younger brother's admiration turned into disgust when Cho had opted to join the CBI, especially when Sam discovered that he would be working underneath a woman. Cho implicitly respected Lisbon; she was a good cop, an excellent leader and a wonderful friend to him. However, Sam simply could not see it that way. So, since then, they had actively avoided one another, to the extent that they pretended that their sibling did not exist. As far as Cho was concerned, it was far easier that way.

That had promptly changed precisely six days and five hours ago. Since then, Sam had been messaging him on a regular basis, desperate to make contact with his elder brother. Old resentments died hard and Cho continued to ignore him. Besides, he had his own issues to be dealing with, not least, a major case at work. He had to prioritize and when it came to his estranged brother, work was always going to be far more important. At least it seemed like the case was getting somewhere now; they'd made a few major breakthroughs and for the most part, Patrick Jane was behaving himself. However, the more messages he received from Sam, the more time Cho spent thinking about him, much to his irritation.

When his cell phone rang out for the seventh time that night, Cho closed his eyes and tried to distract himself. Automatically, he started counting in order to fixate his consciousness on something other than the issues swirling around in his mind. He steadied his breathing as he recited the numbers inside his head and silently hoped that sleep wouldn't remain quite so elusive as it had done so for three hours thus far. It didn't work though; another text message arrived promptly after and his eyes sprang back wide open.

With a sigh, he leaned over to see why Sam was so desperate to speak to him. It didn't surprise him in the slightest when he saw that all eight messages were from his useless excuse of a younger brother, however, he had vaguely wished that wasn't the case. A message from Lisbon saying he was needed out in the field would have provided him with the ideal excuse to stop worrying about Sam and start focusing on something more important. Cho sighed heavily; in the end, he decided it was about time to humor his brother and see what he wanted. He didn't bother to read them all; instead, he just opened up the last one and was stunned by the words he saw glaring back at him.

You were right. I want to get out; I need your help.

xxx

Two hours later, instead of being curled up in bed, Cho found himself standing outside of an abandoned warehouse. The chilly breeze cut through his jacket and he shivered. Still, at least he was out and doing something instead of being plagued by ancient history in bed. It may not have been for quite the reason he expected, either, but it was better than nothing. Automatically, he moved his hand to his hip and was comforted by the touch of his faithful gun.

As he had driven to the location that Sam had given him, Cho's imagination had gone into overdrive. What if Sam was lying and he didn't actually need help? What if it was a trap? What if he was luring him out here to kidnap or worse, to kill? Being an ex-Playboy, Cho knew that the members of the gang delighted in murder, especially if it was of a cop. They were disgusted by the fact Cho had become a cop and it must have been humiliating for Sam. What better poetic license would it have been for them than to have him die at his brother's hands?

But then, there was also hope. Hope that his brother had finally seen sense. Hope that he realized that the gang lifestyle was a dangerous way of life. Hope that he had seen just how much damage he was doing to other people. And hope that Kyung-Sam was finally deciding to take responsibility and actually grow up. Despite the fact there was merely an eight year age difference between them, sometimes it felt like far more.

In the shadows, in the corner of Cho's eyes, he spotted a movement. Natural instinct and his reflexes automatically made him draw the gun and approach with caution. Half of him was beginning to expect an ambush from all sides; Sam was late and he hadn't even heard any vehicles approaching. At four a.m., it was still deathly quiet and there was nobody that could disturb them. That was why Sam had chosen this location to meet up, or so he'd claimed. All Cho could see right now was all the hidden corners which could hide untold dangers.

"Come out with your hands above your head," he instructed firmly.

"It's just me."

He watched as Sam approached tentatively, his hands held high in the air, just as Cho had instructed him to do so. Cho swallowed down a smirk; it was the first time in decades that his brother had actually listened to a direct instruction from him. Swiftly, he closed the distance between himself and Sam, put his brother in an arm lock and relinquished him of his firearm. Briefly, he looked it over; a Glock 9mm, probably stolen. It was only when he had both his own service weapon and Sam's gun safely in his possession that he let his brother go.

"What the hell was that for?" Sam snarled angrily.

"I want to know what your attentions are," Cho answered in a gruff tone. "Now, speak."

TBC...