Warning: Wufei-centric. Angsty and rather macabre. I think it has a nice ending though. I hope.

December 18th

Red and White

It was Christmas Eve and I'd just killed a man. Some days it really doesn't pay to get out of bed. Though I suppose, I shouldn't be complaining. I'm not the guy lying in a pool of blood on the ground, snow already starting to cover my clothes.

Crimson red and white . . . talk about spoiling your Christmas cheer.

Sally staggered over to lean against me. He'd managed to shoot her in the arm before I took him down. I hadn't meant to kill him, he'd fallen from the fire escape he was climbing.

"You okay?" I turned to look at her; she was a little pale but seemed fine otherwise. She nodded in confirmation and we called in the incident.

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year . . .

I wondered if the guy had been married. His fingers were bare of any rings. I hoped he didn't have any kids. Having your old man die on Christmas . . . I was supposed to be making the world a better place, but it sure didn't feel like it tonight.

I knew he'd been a crook. He was an arms dealer and drug smuggler. He'd killed countless people if not directly then certainly indirectly. He deserved to be punished, but he hadn't deserved to die. And on Christmas Eve for Christ's sake.

Screw some poor kids' trauma, what about mine? I have to live with this stuff every day. Good morning Chang, Merry Christmas. No presents for you this year old boy, only coal. That's what you get for killing people.

But Sally was alive. She was standing there looking at the guy, marking off the area and occasionally swearing at herself for getting shot. She wasn't the one lying dead and growing cold on the ground.

You just keep telling yourself that Chang. If it makes you sleep better at night.

The regulars arrived. Commander showed up and sent Sally off to get sorted out. I was told to go back to the office and file a report. Not later, not tomorrow, now. Then she looked at me, her expression a little softer and told me to stand down.

I realize I'm still clutching my gun and I'm wired tighter than a spring.

Stand down she says.

"Fine." Then I walk away, ignoring the drops of red in the snow that Sally left in a trail. Ignoring the chatter of the team in the background. Ignoring sirens and telling myself that I'm shaking because it's snowing and cold and not because I almost lost my partner and had to shoot a man. Who ended up dying.

All that red and white.

Back at headquarters everything was quiet. Only a few people on staff, but then it was Christmas Eve. My day off was due tomorrow. I was supposed to spend the day hanging with the guys. Yuy was going to prove to everyone he could cook a turkey and Barton had promised not to bring any food Cathy had prepared. We'd played baseball in the snow with her rolls last year.

I wanted the evening to be over. I wanted it to have never happened. I didn't want to see the Christmas decorations and think about blood in the snow and the sound of that man screaming as he fell.

My report was thorough. I knew I wasn't at fault. An officer had been shot. I'd fired my gun, hitting the assailant in the shoulder and thigh. My shots had not killed him; it was the fall.

I couldn't let him get away though, could I? He'd shot Sally. He was to be arrested. He'd killed people himself.

He had a kid.

I found his stats in the network when I was completing my report. Divorced, he didn't see the kid, a dead beat dad who never paid his child support. The wife probably wouldn't care that he'd died; the kid was eight. A little boy. Would he grow up to be like his old man? Would he grow up to hate cops?

Would he grow up to hate me?

I shut down my computer, picking up the folder with the report. Inside I tucked a note requesting that the ex-wife not be told when the perp had died. It was the best I could do. It was late but the Commander would want this on her desk. I doubt she'd be taking the day off tomorrow.

Agents getting shot creates paperwork. Killing people creates even more.

There wasn't anyone in the parking garage, I hit the switch on my keys and listened to the beep, and thought it was the loneliest sound in the world. My car was cold. My house would be cold as well.

I checked my phone before I pulled out and was surprised to see there was a message. Barton had called. He wanted me to stop by Yuy's on my way home. I was relieved. I didn't want to go home just yet. I liked going to Yuy's. His place was small but it was warm and bright and filled with laughter. Maxwell was always there, draped over furniture or people, tossing in a sarcastic comment but smiling to soften the blow.

When I pulled up, I sat in the drive with my lights off. I was still shaking even though my car had warmed up on the drive over. The snow was falling heavily and I could only hear the sound of my breathing. Suddenly I didn't think coming had been a good idea. I felt like I was covered in blood and checked my hands. Rattled I tried to put the key back in the ignition but I missed and they slipped and fell under the seat.

My door was opened suddenly and I gasped, staring at Maxwell's face in surprise. My mouth opened and I heard someone blurt out, "I killed him."

Then I realized it was me.

"I should go."

He was shaking his head though and then my seat belt was undone and I was yanked from the car and out into the night. Yuy was standing in the open doorway, light shining behind him so I couldn't make out his expression. Hands pulled me inside, took my coat and wrapped a blanket around me.

Outside it continued to snow. People went about their business. Somewhere, somebody was laughing or maybe crying. Somewhere, somebody died. Somewhere, somebody was born.

Tonight I killed a man, but tonight I also saved a life.

They told me this. And gave me back my Christmas.