Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

EPISODE 11 (end.):

The elevator doors finally opened after a stuttery ride, revealing Ji-su, Eun-hyeok, and Yi-kyeong sitting on the cushion seatings that were near. Ji-su was the first to approach the two, focusing mainly on Jae-Heon.

“ Jesus—What happened?” 

“Oh no, don’t worry. This isn’t mine,” Jae-Heon referred to the now semi-dried blood that was smeared over his face and glasses, letting Ji-su examine his unscathed face. 

“Everything went alright then?” Yi-kyeong asked, Eun-hyeok already leaving to turn off the generator’s power once he saw the two in perfect condition. 

“Yes, we got everything on the list,” Jae-Heon confirmed, showing the checked-off list that he himself checked off, something that Sang-Wook insistently argued was useless. The lights around the area spontaneously turned off, and an audible whirring down noise was heard, the power now being turned off once more.  

“Once you’ve cleaned up, group up with everyone else at a hall down from the gravesite. Eun-hyeok and I will be scouting out, so we need you two with everyone else,” Yi-kyeong says, and adds, “Glad nothing happened to the both of you.” 

After Yi-kyeong leaves, Ji-su promptly nudges Jae-Heon. “You sure you’re okay?”

Jae-Heon chuckled at her insistent concern, “I didn’t suffer any sort of injury, so yes, I am okay. However, you, on the other hand, need to rest.” 

“I can handle myself,” Ji-su mumbled back but nonetheless understands where he’s coming from. She then directed herself onto Sang-Wook. “Hey, you okay too?”

Sang-Wook hid his surprise at the mere suggestion of Ji-su considering his well-being and gave a short nod to her. It was still strange to wrap around the idea of others being considerate towards him, especially if it wasn’t Jae-Heon. Regardless, it felt… different. 

“Alright well, make sure to get your ass grouped up with us after.” Ji-su bid a temporary goodbye, leaving the area.

Not wanting to waste time, Jae-Heon headed towards the restrooms, Sang-Wook naturally trailing behind. Sang-Wook wouldn’t lie about how bad he felt for following his companion like a lost puppy, not that it was his fault, simply preferring the swordsman's presence over anything else. And, presumably, hopefully, Jae-Heon felt the same, having plenty of times being somewhere where Sang-awoke wasn’t. Luckily, Jae-Heon never left his side, and vice versa.  The swordsman willingly wanted to be with him, and that’s one hell of an achievement.

For fuck’s sake, getting the man himself is an achievement in itself.

Entering the restroom, Jae-Heon politely let Sang-Wook go in first. The public restroom was empty, leaving the two alone in its confined space. For Sang-Wook, he felt relieved as he could still act the way he did towards Jae-Heon without any bearing eyes. In truth, he could give less of a damn about what the residents had thought about them, but it was always a bonus when it was just the two of them alone. He’d also like to maintain that intimidating reputation he’s been molded into, knowing damn well himself that he was getting soft as of late. 

Not that he minds. Not one bit. 

For Jae-Heon, it was unsettlingly quiet for his own liking, his footsteps and Sang-Wook’s audibly distinct against the concrete bathroom tiles. Every last remaining resident was far from where they stood, Jae-Heon feeling slight unease. He never did like public restrooms, let alone this one. Now standing in front of the mirror, Jae-Heon looked at himself. As expected, it was an uneven appearance, with his strands of slightly sweaty hair pushed back messily from his face that was painted with blood. Turning the facet’s handle resulted with a screeching that pierced the silence, Jae-Heon cringing at the sound. Having put his blade aside momentarily, he took off his glasses and placed them on the edge of the sink.

Cupping his hands, he let the water run down his hands. Jae-Heon has been long overdue for a decent shower, wishing he’d taken upon that early offer when they had regained water. Not that he can’t now, he’d just rather save the remaining water they had left than to waste it upon a shower. Furthermore, it’s better to be on guard for the next hours or so. Not wanting to waste the water, he began rinsing his face. Jae-Heon watched how the dried blood left his face and swirled down the sink into the drain, thankful for how it wasn’t his own blood. Now done with his face, he ran wet fingers through his hair, trying to comb his hair into decent tidiness as much as possible considering the circumstances, having the water take care of getting rid of the dirt and sweat that’s been tangled in. 

Through the mirror, Jae-Heon didn’t mind the vacuous stare he was receiving from the older man as he watched attentively to his every move. Wanting to tease around, Jae-Heon managed to catch the man’s eyes, a knowing smile displayed on the swordsman's face.

Sang-Wook clicked his tongue, fast to look somewhere else, trying to act cool and composed. However, it was hard to ignore his companion’s teasing smile and the water gracefully dripping from the various strands of hair on Jae-Heon’s face. It was even harder to withdraw his eyes from the water beads that slowly trickled down to Jae-Heon’s collarbone.

Fuck. He should stop staring.

Managing to turn away his gaze, Sang-Wook grabbed the glasses resting on the sink. Moving to the next sink, he cleaned his distraction with gentle caution. Rinsing out the red from the glasses, he used the helm of his shirt to dry it, noticing that Jae-Heon was drying his face with his own shirt as well. Sang-Wook cleared his suddenly tightening throat at the small flash of naked skin that was being presented to him—well, maybe not intentionally presented to him, but the skin was visible nonetheless. Indubitably, it was due to the lack of paper towels in the restroom and nothing more. Unfortunately. 

Jae-Heon was too busy drying his face to even see Sang-Wook staring, a chance the older man had seized. Well, more like eyes but anyways, the swordsman’s body was fairly toned but not expertly toned, something Sang-Wook wasn’t expecting from a Christian teacher. He automatically assumed that type of build was primarily from Jae-Heon having years of building technique with the sword, something that reminded Sang-Wook to ask the other about the background behind that specific weapon choice.

‘Course, if given the chance, he wouldn’t mind his eyes drifting onto the man’s chest if it weren’t for Jae-Heon finishing drying himself off, his shirt being pulled back down. In time, Sang-Wook quickly looked away and pretended to be interested in the glasses he held. Maybe a bit too interested, as Jae-Heon let out a gentle yet borderline teasing chuckle.

“Are my glasses that much of a fascination?”

Sang-Wook gave him a glare, huffing away his embarrassment. “No. Just…looking.”

Jae-Heon snorted, stepping in front of Sang-Wook as he kept making terrible excuses. “I never had glasses…that’s—uh why.”

Fuck, does he have to get better at trying not to lose composure around Jae-Heon. 

Jae-Heon teased, “Is that so?”

Sang-Wook hummed his confirmation with a small nod. It was a partial truth, as all good lies come from, as he never wore glasses in all of his life—not that he ever checked his eyesight with an optometrist, but regardless, his partial truth still stands. Before handing off the glasses, curiosity overtook him as Sang-Wook held it by the frames, taking that small peak behind them and regretting it immediately as they were, after all, prescribed lenses. 

Sang-Wook couldn’t help but wonder how Jae-Heon managed to survive this long without needing glasses, but he shoved the fact away that the swordsman was practically blind for now. Sang-Wook closed the small gap between them to carefully place the glasses back on Jae-Heon, hands purposely not retracting. Jae-Heon blinked, pleasantly confused, raised eyebrows and a small smile being the two biggest clues. Subconsciously—or maybe it was consciously, who the fuck knows—Sang-Wook’s hands relocated to the sides of Jae-Heon’s face, squishing his cheeks ever so slightly, this causing the younger man to let out a confused noise. The glasses were just an excuse to get closer to Jae-Heon, as Sang-Wook could’ve simply given back the glasses in hand. 

This wasn’t a foreseen plan; Sang-Wook allowed wherever this moment would take them to. And was he glad he did. It was no exaggeration when Sang-Wook feels his heart pump faster at just the mere sight of the man in front of him, and it was no exaggeration when Sang-Wook says he now understands why touch was such a valuable thing, loving how he could feel and pinpoint when heat starts creeping up on Jaeheon’s skin, his own palms being of witness as he felt and saw the man blush with faint color. He’s still having trouble processing how he was worth of such a sight, but shit, fuck the thought process. It’s about the moment nowadays.

The minute Jae-Heon released a soft chuckle, so soft that if it weren’t for the close proximity they were at Sang-Wook wouldn’t have heard it, it was absolutely heart-melting for the older man. All the air was righteously knocked out of Sang-Wook when Jae-Heon’s smile curled more into a shy demeanor but was still handsomely sweet. Sang-Wook held his breath, as if he were to exhale the moment would be ruined. The warm hues of evening reflected beautifully against Jae-Heon, from the broken, dirtied windows, the aura the colors created made the man look divine. Sang-Wook would have never guessed he would ever use words like beautiful or fucking divine, especially when it’s the adjectives to describe someone. 

Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him but he could have sworn their faces drifted closer as each second passed in between them. Sang-Wook’s gaze bounced between the many features of his companion but ultimately rested onto that damn smile. God, that dopey smile that was infectious enough to render a small smile from Sang-Wook himself, only invigorating the passion for the man within his chest much more than before. There were soft crinkles at the edge of Jae-Heon’s eyes as they smiled too, colored with such soft serenity and fondness that it overwhelmed Sang-Wook’s chest and drove deep into his alive and beating heart. 

With no other choice, not that he would’ve picked any other, Sang-Wook pulled Jae-Heon, their lips meeting expectantly and sweetly. A warm feeling settled in his chest and Sang-Wook couldn’t help but let out a long exhale in the kiss, eyes closing. Sang-Wook slightly tilted his face to the right, Jae-Heon humming happily as result. Not that he’d say it aloud, but Sang-Wook likes to think he’s getting better at this whole kissing thing. 

  …Hopefully.

Sang-Wook allowed himself to be lightly pushed by Jae-Heon against the sink that was behind him, allowing the pressing of their bodies. Jae-Heon’s hands rested on the washbasin’s countertop, whereas Sang-Wook’s hands never left the sides of Jae-Heon’s face. It wasn’t anything extreme; the pressing and kissing being fairly chaste and simply the need to be close. They wanted to be close, wanted to take in this time together as much as they can to their fullest. Because the thought of there not being another time was always going to be a possibility. 

Little breaths, smiles that were rare for one of them, and mindless whispers between the two were exhaled every time they pulled away, flushed faces staring back at one another with such fondness for each other that it was grossly saccharine in such times. Although, fuck it, Sang-Wook doesn’t mind indulging in such sweets that just so happened to be his companion’s lips. The feeling itself gave such dopamine that he’d never felt years ago, something he’d thought he’d never deserve, and it gave him such… hope. 

The many grueling years of being alone, being alone with that mountain called resentment, suddenly felt worth it if it meant getting together with Jae-Heon in the end. Jung Jae-Heon, that man, gave him hope, something that no one was able to give him in the past. And shit, was Sang-Wook going to hold onto that. 

In short, he was absolutely enthralled by the presence of Jung Jae-Heon. Not just that, but Sang-Wook truly understood right now that he’s actually…loved. Sang-Wook would have to come back to that shitload of new realizations later, not now, as it wasn’t the right moment; rather, he wanted to have lip-to-lip contact with a certain someone. 

So that’s what he did—Sang-Wook recapturing his companion’s lips once more, Jae-Heon chuckling at his eagerness. It was strangely romantic, the whole ordeal being the two blissfully kissing with no intention of stopping like lovers—this term endearing both of the men to no ends—and creating a comforting warmth between bodies that both had grown accustomed to, all the while being in an unsanitary restroom that was in desperate need of a fixer-upper.

It stayed this way for a couple more seconds, the only sound being the leaky faucets and their breathing whenever they pulled apart. Then again, seconds passed and it seemed that deja-vu, or just unlucky timing, had struck once more when someone happened to enter the restroom during their private time, giving the two men a startle.

“Oh!—” the voice exclaimed. Unfortunately, it belonged to Hyun-su, who was obviously not expecting to catch two adult men doing a bit of PDA in the public restrooms. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry, really! God…this happened a second time…I’m really sorry…”

Hyun-su stood uncomfortably unsure whether he should leave the restroom or keep apologizing. Sang-Wook stared dead straight at Hyun-su with a deadly glare, unwilling to break their current position as he was peeved that he couldn’t kiss Jae-Heon in fucking peace. Sure, it’s understandable the first time it happened, but twice? At that point, Sang-Wook hoped his glare would shoo away the flustered kid. 

Jae-Heon looked back at Sang-Wook with a please-calm-down-it-wasn’t-his-fault look, but Sang-Wook tsked in response. Both of the men knew deep down they both had grown a bit of a soft spot for Hyun-su over the course of time and knew the boy wasn’t purposely seeking them when they were… distracted. It wasn’t until now that Jae-Heon realized what the boy had said, his attention snapping to Hyun-su. 

“I’m sorry, but, did you just say a…second time ?”

Hyun-su stared at the teacher, blinking slowly and unsure. A delayed nod comes after.

“Yeah…remember when,” a pause, then eyes squinting in silent confusion. “Oh…I….remember this happened before…I-I think it did?…Did it?”

Jae-Heon nodded immediately in assurance. “No, it did happen. You are remembering correctly. This did happen, at the convenience store. Do you…do you remember?”

“The convenience store…?” Hyun-su mumbled to himself, squinting his eyes in contemplation.

“Yes, where,” Jae-Heon gestures to himself and Sang-Wook, “Him and I were…engaging with each other, and you stumbled upon us.”

Hyun-su’s eyes shift between him and Sang-Wook, clear definition of a story happening within them, confusion then understanding then embarrassment in the teen’s eyes. Hyun-su realized he interrupted the couple, though those emotions left the eyes rather fast. Hyun-su’s eyes become downcast, shoulders sagging, a noticeable hand fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. 

“I…I don’t know. I don’t—don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

Jae-Heon stepped closer, hands resting on Hyun-su’s shoulder. Hyun-su met his gaze. It wasn’t until now that Jae-Heon noticed Hyun-su having an inch or two height advantage. It was endearing in a way, realizing this. 

“If you’ve managed to remember that, then I’m sure it’ll be soon enough you’ll start getting more of your memory back,” Jae-Heon kindly offered words of encouragement, wanting to replace the sadness in the boy’s eyes. “It’s progress. It’s small but it’s progress. Sooner or later, the gaps will be filled, and you’ll remember. I know you will. Just, don’t give up so easily. Be patient with yourself, alright?”

Hyun-su was pensively quiet for a moment. Jae-Heon waited patiently for any sort of response, and a response did come in the form of Hyun-su nodding. Wistful hope was now the color of Hyun-su’s eyes and Jae-Heon knew he won in some sort of way, seeing that very minuscule quirk of the boy’s lips moving upright.

He must be aging because Jae-Heon swore he felt like a proud parent just now. The feeling was strong, Jae-Heon not fighting the smile on his face. Sang-Wook let out a small huff in return, a positive one. Or as positive as it can sound from Sang-Wook. 

Jae-Heon squeezed Hyun-su’s shoulder lightly before retreating beside Sang-Wook. Jae-Heon wanted to gush a little about the very bit of smile on Hyun-su’s face, wanting to joke about how parental he felt but he remembered he needed to return to the situation at hand. 

Clearing his throat and having a sheepish smile on his face, realizing that the boy must have come there for a reason. “Ah, did you want to use the restrooms? If so, we can leave.”

“Oh, uh, no…” 

“No you don’t want us to leave?” Jae-Heon asked, his voice rising in misunderstanding of Hyun-su’s answer.

Hyun-su raised his hands in frantic gestures when he started, unsuccessfully, to explain himself, “No! I—I mean yes! Wait, I didn’t—what I meant to—”

Raising his volume with a burst of confidence, Hyun-su said, “I wanted to thank you!”

Thank you?

“For what?” Jae-Heon asked, genuine with his confusion. 

Hyun-su’s confidence visibly drained, looking down at the bathroom tiles with a blushed face. He mumbled, “For the blanket.”

“Ah.” Jae-Heon smiled, “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“…And for letting me cry,” Hyun-su added in a quieter voice.  

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Jae-Heon assured again, his voice softer. Oh, what would he do with Hyun-su? Before and even now, he’s truly a kind kid. 

Hyun-su sniffled and looked up at the duo of men, awkwardly turning to Sang-Wook. “You…too. Thank you.”

Sang-Wook didn’t know how to respond to that since he quite literally did nothing; Jae-Heon doing all of the kindness. Sang-Wook was just there observing if anything. 

“Eun-yoo…told me that you picked out my clothes,” Hyun-su clarified but was quick to take it back, “Oh, but she told me not to…tell you she said that. ”

Jae-Heon nudged Sang-Wook with his elbow, who merely let out a sound of acknowledgment. Sang-Wook couldn’t help but let out a dry snort. ‘Course Eun-yoo would pull that type of shit. All he did was merely suggest the girl talk to the poor boy. But he wouldn’t say that to Hyun-su. 

Glancing to his side, Jae-Heon saw that the evening sky that was once peeking through the window was now darkened, a telltale sign urging them to now regroup with everyone else. 

“Let’s get out of here, hm?” Jae-Heon encouraged, grabbing up his weapon and heading towards the exit before giving Hyun-su a squeeze on his shoulder. 

Sang-Wook followed right after and shit, maybe he felt that god awful parental pang in him as well as he absentmindedly ruffled Hyun-su’s hair as he passed him to exit out. Immediately after recoiling his hand, he awkwardly cleared his throat and moved purposely faster out of there, leaving a flustered Hyun-su.

Hyun-su was trailing behind as they exited. Everything was quiet and cold. Because of the scarcity of light, it added to that atmosphere of something dreadful. Even if the military wasn’t coming, Jae-Heon had a feeling that the complex as a whole wouldn’t last much longer. Half a wall was missing, supplies were growing thinner, and a good chunk of the group was no longer with them. Sooner or later, they would’ve been forced to be outside to look for supplies. The last trip failed and Jae-Heon couldn’t imagine what a second trip would bargain for. 

Walking past the open wall, the temperature was dropping drastically. The snowfall outside was more prevalent than before. Jae-Heon wishes he could’ve grabbed a jacket beforehand but there wasn’t time, internally scolding himself as they just went to his room earlier.  

The group wasn’t far, the hint of light coming from lit barrels as they inched closer. Jae-Heon stopped walking, turning on his heel to face Hyun-su. He placed his hand on the teen’s shoulder, firm.  “No matter what happens, you are a part of the group. No matter what happens, you stay. Okay?”

Hyun-su blinked but nodded. Jae-Heon did not want the boy to have any doubts about staying with the group, not wanting the boy to give himself up if the military resorted to violence. The last thing Jae-Heon wanted was for Hyun-su to become an experiment. Jae-Heon gave a small squeeze on his shoulder before starting to move again and regrouping with everyone else. The surrounding area was cluttered with an assortment of items, a barricade around the group. Yi-kyeong and Eun-hyeok were noticeably absent from the group, the plan truly falling in motion. This scared Jae-Heon.

Everything seemed to be happening, everyone being where they needed to be. All they needed was now the arrival of the military. That was what scared Jae-Heon. The military. This whole plan they created seemed like it wasn’t going to go to waste, seemingly playing out as if it were written to. Jae-Heon wished the plan went to waste, hoped, prayed that the military doesn’t show up.

Putting his nerves to temporary rest, Jae-Heon went to stand beside Ji-su, who sat on the worn-out reception sofa next to Eun-yoo, who was squished next to Yu-ri. Jae-Heon watched as Sang-Wook stood beside where the children sat on a worn sofa, Hyun-su awkwardly following him. The children were quite happy with Hyun-su’s presence. 

“Finally,” Ji-su muttered when she glanced over at Jae-Heon, knees to her chest. 

Jae-Heon made an amused noise. He kept his voice low, “I didn’t take that long.”

“It took you from sunset to night to wash your face?” Ji-su narrowed her eyes accusingly, matching her volume of voice to his. It wasn't a secret how Ji-su quickly glanced over to Sang-Wook who didn’t notice. 

Jae-Heon nudged her with her elbow, “Ah, come on now.”

Ji-su sighed, poking his elbow away. Deciding to drop the topic she poked at the handle of his weapon. “You never gave me those lessons, you know?”

“Yes, I know,” Jae-Heon said, quite defeated. “I apologize…that was my fault. Then again, you are still in recovery.”

She sighed defeatedly too. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be getting any lessons anytime soon. Fucking military…”

Jae-Heon frowned. “But I will teach you. I did promise.”

“You shouldn’t really be making promises in these times,” Ji-su mumbled, bringing her knees closer to her chest. 

Jae-Heon kept quiet, finger fidgeting with the handle of his weapon. Even if Ji-su says that, he knows he’ll keep making promises till the end. Careful promises, that is. Plus, he doesn’t want to disappoint his only student. It stayed silent for the remaining time, everyone visibly on edge. The only thing that gave closure to Jae-Heon at the time was that everyone was accounted for. 

The stillness didn’t last long, much to everyone’s dismay. Jae-Heon tightening his grip on the weapon's handle, nerves struggling to stay steady. In the distance, a familiar whirring noise was audible. Such a sound hadn’t been made in a while, the city having been quiet for who knows how long, and it was dangerously noticeable. It wasn’t long before the whirring that belonged to a helicopter was louder, deafening even and overhead. 

Even more deafening was the voice that played over a speaker overhead. “You’re all surrounded. Surrender the infected immediately. Survivors will be transferred to a safety camp.”

No one really batted an eye, except for Jae-Hwan, who visibly looked relieved at the mention of a safety camp that was too good to be true. It must’ve been desperation that mingled with ignorance to get such a reaction. Jae-Heon huffed softly at that.

“You are completely surrounded. Surrender the infected immediately. Survivors will be transferred to a safety camp.” 

They stayed put, as planned. Jae-Heon kept a neutral face, but his fidgeting finger on his handle told otherwise. Although that broke rather quickly when a muffled but distinct blaring sound was heard. Both Jae-Heon and Sang-Wook shared a glance and not a beat after an explosion was heard, ground vibrating for seconds. What was more concerning was that it didn't sound like it was the military’s doing; the explosion sounded right beneath them. 

“What the hell,” Ji-su audibly said what was on everyone’s mind.

Hyun-su and Sang-Wook acted on pure instinct, both putting out their arms in front of the children. Jae-Heon steadied his hand on Ji-su’s shoulder in case he needed her to get off her seat instantly. 

The air was unsteady and still, Jae-Heon holding his breath. He shared one last glance over to Sang-Wook before everything became chaos. Bullets started shooting down the hall from where they were, and that was the cue. 

Jae-Heon wasted no time in getting Ji-su up, Yu-ri coming to her side and making sure she quickly follows the crowd. It wasn’t long before Eun-hyeok and Yi-kyeong made their appearances, both ushering everyone to move forward. Yi-kyeong pushed past the group to lead, the children and Jin-ok in front. Sang-Wook was right behind them as a safety precaution. 

Seung-wan and Jae-Hwan were in the middle of the first group and the last group. The last group was Eun-yoo who waited for her brother, and Jae-Heon, who made sure the two kept moving, being behind everyone else. 

Going down the hall was safe; the bullets did not reach that area. Going inside the gravesite, Sang-Wook felt the drastic temperature change. From how structurally broken the area was, snow easily made its way inside the area, covering whatever it could. 

Yi-kyeong opened the hatch and tossed the flashlight at Sang-Wook, whose instinct saved him. She went down the ladder first, briefcase in her other hand. Hyun-su ushered the children and Jin-ok down the ladder, Sang-Wook shining the light for them. Yi-kyeong ventured further ahead, the first group following. 

Hyun-su breathed out, “Go with them. I’ll hold the flashlight.”

Sang-Wook hesitated. Then again, the children were high priority and with a sigh, he handed him the flashlight before going down the ladder. He better see everyone down there. 

After watching Yu-ri and Ji-su go down the hatch, the middle group were next, hastily climbing down the ladder after. Jae-Heon shivered at the snow, goosebumps etching on his bare arms. He watched as the line became shorter. Eun-yoo forced Hyun-su down before she went. Jae-Heon was right behind Eun-hyeok until Yu-ri climbed back onto the surface. She was about to run back to where the danger was, Jae-Heon grabbing her. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jae-Heon held her arm, “What’s wrong?”

Yu-ri let out a frustrated sound. “I thought Jae-Hwan was carrying the backpack. I don’t even think he got it from the daycare.”

“Backpack?” Jae-Heon asked but not letting go of her. 

Eun-hyeok looked as frustrated as she sounded and answered before her, “It has all the medical stuff we have left. It’s back there?”

Yu-ri nodded, devastation written all over. Jae-Heon, without much thought, lightly pushed her towards Eun-hyeok. 

“I’ll go,” Jae-Heon said, taking a step back and pointing towards the hatch, “I’ll catch up.”

Jae-Heon turned his back and started making his way but was startled when a sharp coldness grabbed his wrist. He looked back and it was Eun-hyeok. No one should’ve been that humanely cold. 

“I’ll go,” Eun-hyeok said with a sharp firmness. 

Jae-Heon knew that wouldn’t happen on his watch. He grabbed Eun-hyeok’s wrist and put it to the teenager’s chest. He gave him a shove towards Yu-ri and the hatch.

“Your sister is waiting for you. Everyone down there needs the both of you.” Jae-Heon replied, his tone matching the severity of the situation. “I will catch up to you.”

Eun-hyeok opened his mouth, but nothing came out when, seemingly on cue, Eun-yoo had shouted out his name to hurry up. Jae-Heon gave him a knowing look and watched as both doctor and nurse reluctantly climbed down the ladder. Making sure they wouldn’t pull something, he made his way back to the area, gripping his blade hard. 

The bullets ricocheting against the walls became more audible as he came closer. After returning back to the area that they had just left, Jae-Heon felt his nerves break. The backpack wasn’t there. Not even after a quick search, nothing. He had to go to the daycare. 

He could just go back, explaining to them that it was too risky. He could just go back, safe and with everyone else. It’s too bad that he just isn’t that type of person.

Breathing out a prayer, breathing a chance to get the backpack, he ran. Bullets were nonstop when he ran down the halls, his own heat fighting against the cold wind against him. His heart was in his throat when he had to run past the broken wall where everything was in the military’s sight. Once he made it past that, he skidded down a turn and threw himself into the daycare once it was in sight. The daycare was a mess, a majority of things gone. He let out a breath of a relieved thanks to God, seeing the backpack on a kiddy table. 

Grabbing it and slinging it over his shoulder, he mentally prepared himself to run again. Heart racing and pumping his blood, he forced himself to take that step outside the daycare. Running back the route he took, he went the same way and maybe it was because he didn’t make a prayer beforehand but he made the mistake of looking at the open wall. A blinding light was shining right on him and it blinded him for a mere second, the bullets from outside spreading everywhere into the area.

Jae-Heon hissed when he felt something pierce his side, causing him to stumble with his steps. He didn’t have time to look, forcing himself and praying that the adrenaline rushing through him would do its job. Now wasn’t the time to worry about himself. The backpack was all that mattered.

Back in the safe zone, Jae-Heon found himself out of breath when he entered the snow-covered gravesite. His body was on fire against the snow. Panting, he heaved a sigh when he went down the ladder, closing the hatch. On his feet, he leaned against the wall. He looked down and he felt the wet spot but no red, thanks to his black shirt. He was conflicted. His black shirt hid his wound, and he could go on ignoring the pain so as to not worry everyone else. Or he could ask for help. Biting down, Jae-Heon knew help sounded good. Forcing himself to walk to where everyone else was, further ahead of him. He kept his hand against the wall as aid. 

“He what?” Ji-su hissed, Sang-Wook being able to hear from where he was. They were still moving, trying to get as far in where the tunnel took them. 

“He went back,” Yu-ri mumbled back. “Jae-Heon insisted he would get the backpack. Promised to come back…He should’ve been back by now…”

“Promised?” Ji-su scoffed, giving an appalled look, “Yu-ri! You know better! That’s nothing but a flimsy promise! A fucking lie!”

Yu-ri scoffed back. “You think I don’t know that? I…he insisted. For crying out loud, Eun-hyeok also wanted to go back for it! Jae-Heon said we were both needed.”

At this point Sang-Wook had slowed down his walking, counting heads. Fuck. Where was Jae-Heon? Having Eun-hyeok with the group was suitable enough for Sang-Wook to fall behind the group and find his goddamn swordsman. Ji-su tried hobbling after him as well but Yu-ri denied her, scolding her and telling Ji-su that Sang-Wook could handle it and that she shouldn’t walk as much with her own injury. Ji-su gave in, giving Sang-Wook a stern look that visibly read, “find him.”

Sang-Wook quickly made his way back, retracing the route they took. It was surprising how far they made it in little time and he couldn’t help but quicken his pace. Fuck. Fuck. Where was he? Why did he have to go after some stupid backpack? Why couldn’t he just be with them?

Turning a corner, even in the dimly lit tunnel with dust in the air, Sang-Wook found Jae-Heon. He was alive and moving, just at a painfully slow pace. He huffed, eyeing the backpack Jae-Heon had over his shoulder as he jogged towards the swordsman. 

“Jae-Heon,” he gruffed, earning the man’s attention. 

Forcing himself to move, Jae-Heon jogged the rest of the empty space to Sang-Wook. He breathlessly said, “Got the backpack.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sang-Wook was bitter, and it showed in his voice. “You didn’t have to go back for it.”

Jae-Heon weakly chuckled, steps a bit strange. “You would’ve done the same. It was the remaining medical supplies we have. It’s valuable.”

Sang-Wook huffed, “Doesn’t matter. It’s the backpack or your fucking life. Jae-Heon, they had fucking guns. You could’ve gotten shot. You could’ve fucking died.”

Jae-Heon found it humorous. Not really actually. One of those things happened, and it was apparent when he needed to take a breath in, stopping and going to the walls of the tunnel, leaning his head against the wall as he held where he had gotten shot. The pain was suddenly a horrible burning sensation and it hit him like a truck. 

Sang-Wook cursed under his breath, immediately at Jae-Heon’s side, placing his hand over where the swordsman had it by his side. It was wet. His fucking black shirt camouflaged the blood. “You got shot.”

Jae-Heon weakly snorted, “I didn’t pray beforehand.”

Sang-Wook wanted to fucking argue with Jae-Heon and how praying wouldn’t have fixed a fucking thing. He didn’t, though, a silent panic washing over him as he took the backpack off Jae-Heon, tossing it on the floor. Sang-Wook went to grab the bottom hem of the shirt, Jae-Heon hissing when the cold air hit the wounded area that seemingly felt on fire. 

Jae-Heon shuddered a little when the haunting reality came crashing down. He got shot. He was losing blood. He could die. He could feel an onslaught of dizziness kick in, his adrenaline faded but still there. It all felt surreal and wet. Extremely wet. Jae-Heon didn’t want to look down, knowing how sensitive he could be to his own blood. Let alone knowing it was due to a bullet. 

“Fuck,” Sang-Wook growled, putting the shirt down. The entry wound was jagged, stretching at most three fingers in both length and width. Nasty looking. No exit wound either, just entry. He took off his jacket without hesitation, pressing it over the bullet wound. Jae-Heon kept the pressure with his free hand. Sang-Wook grabbed the backpack and put it over his shoulder, arm wrapping around Jae-Heon’s waist. “Bullet’s still in, you’re still losing blood.”

Jae-Heon leaned into Sang-Wook, forcing to match his companion’s panicked, fast pace. His other hand tightened desperately onto the handle of his weapon. He forgot he was even holding it. He gritted out, “How can you tell? The bullet?”

“Been shot myself,” Sang-Wook mumbled, not interested in conversation at the moment. They needed to be quick, the only two people capable of medical care far from them. 

“Oh,” Jae-Heon breathed, “How many times?”

“Too many,” Sang-Wook replied, not interested in engaging  in some backstory conversation at the moment. “Fuck, Jae-Heon. Why did you go back?”

Jae-Heon managed a weak smile. “I wanted to help. And I don’t know what I would do knowing that either Eun-hyeok or Yu-ri had gone back when I could have.”

Sang-Wook bit his tongue, wanting to scold the bastard about how he didn’t have to help with every single thing, but he knew he wouldn’t win that conversation. He let out a frustrated noise, tightening his grip over Jae-Heon’s waist and helping with the jacket, steadying the pressure over it. Jae-Heon gritted through the pain and was going at Sang-Wook’s pace without any stumble or delay. Voices could be heard close, and Jae-Heon felt a rush of relief. Even with the relief, he couldn’t help but feel like an inconvenience. He got shot because he wasn’t careful. His arm was practically getting wound after wound, causing an inconvenience to himself. If he keeps this up he’ll end up dead soon enough. That is if the wound right now wouldn’t kill him. 

What a lovely thought. 

Jae-Heon continued walking forward, leaving all his weight on Sang-Wook, who did hold up his own strength. His pain was gradually subsiding, replaced by a numbing achy feel to the wet area. Something Jae-Heon could not figure out if it was a good or bad thing. More the reason to keep walking. 

“Jae-Heon!” 

Ji-su’s voice echoed in the tunnel as she half-jogged up to them, coming to a halt when she saw the condition Jae-Heon was in. It didn’t take much effort to piece together what had happened—Jae-Heon looked quite literally as if he got shot, which wasn’t wrong. 

“Holy shit,” she breathed out, “You got shot.”

“It’s—”Jae-Heon began, but got shut down rather quickly by Ji-su.

“The fucking backpack,” Ji-su let out frustrated sigh, eyes glancing to the backpack Sang-Wook carried on his shoulder. “I told Yu-ri it wasn’t worth it. Definitely wasn’t worth getting shot!”

“Get the doctor,” Sang-Wook grunted out, referring to Eun-hyeok. That kid sure as hell knew how to perform a damn surgery, he better know how to deal with a bullet wound. Sang-Wook did have his share of knowledge, but the supplies weren’t readily available. Not that Sang-Wook’s knowledge was good anyways, admittedly being sloppy. 

“I’ll get both,” Ji-su mumbled, turning on her heel and jogging down the tunnels ahead to fetch the two medicals. Sang-Wook went to prop Jae-Heon back on the wall, dropping the backpack next to them on the floor. 

Jae-Heon was in pain, no doubt, but he kept that quiet, breathing heavily as he offered a tight smile to Sang-Wook, who was actively pressing the jacket onto the bullet wound. 

“How did you…deal with this?” Jae-Heon breathed out. “Back before…everything.”

Sang-Wook shot him a glance, silently urging Jae-Heon to conserve his breath, before responding, “Usually toughed it out.”

Jae-Heon exhaled another slow breath, leaning his head against the wall. “Your job, right?” he remarked.

Sang-Wook gave a half-hearted nod, distracted with something that’s a little more important right now. This prompted the conversation to end there.

The verbal conversation that is. Jae-Heon’s hand, the one that wasn’t currently trying to stop bleeding, went to rest on top of Sang-Wook’s hand that was against the wall. Jae-Heon wanted to reassure the poor man, Sang-Wook having the same face he did during the whole burning elevator situation—concern etched on his face. Everything will be fine, is what Jae-Heon wants to believe. It was just a scratch, he wanted to say, to lighten the mood. Saying it aloud is a different story though. Jae-Heon wouldn’t want to risk telling a lie. Wouldn’t want that to be his last, potentially dying promise. 

Wasn’t long before voices were clamoring amongst themselves, coming towards the two men. Ji-su had brought Yu-ri and Eun-hyeok—and the unmistakable sight of a worried Eun-yoo right behind. Eun-hyeok quickened his pace, jogging up to Jae-Heon and examining the bloodied jacket that Sang-Wook didn’t want to stop putting pressure on. Yu-ri let out a frustrated sigh, regret filling her eyes as she took in the sight of Jae-Heon.

“I got the backpack and made it back, just like I said I would,” Jae-Heon asserted before Yu-ri could voice her concerns. The last he wanted was for her to carry unnecessary guilt.

Yu-ri wasn’t taking that at all and it showed, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she took the backpack in her hands and opened it to assess its contents.

Eun-hyeok exhaled through his nose, a huffing noise. He motioned for Sang-Wook to stop pressing the jacket into the wound, Sang-Wook obeying. Eun-hyeok swiftly moved to the left side of the shirt, and grimaced slightly at the messy sight of blood. Sang-Wook wondered if Eun-hyeok had a penchant for cleanliness. Wouldn’t be surprising. 

“A tourniquet,” Yu-ri suddenly said. “We can make that.”

Eun-hyeok was quick to turn down that idea, “No. Making a tourniquet ourselves would cause more harm if done improperly. Even if we do know, it still might do harm.”

Sang-Wook resumed pressing the jacket back on the wound while Eun-hyeok took them to think, Jae-Heon shifting uncomfortably at the sensation. Sang-Wook swore he could see the color slowly draining out of Jae-Heon in real time.  

“It’s been more than five minutes, and he hasn’t bled out,” Eun-hyeok murmured. “Meaning the bullet didn’t hit any arteries.”

“He’s still bleeding though ,” Yu-ri pointed out. “Even if it didn’t hit an artery, he can still bleed out.”

Another beat of silence until Eun-hyeok decided, “The bullet doesn’t need to be removed.”

“Really?” Jae-Heon said with a mix of relief. He doesn’t even want to imagine the pain that would come from removing a bullet, let alone without proper tools. 

Eun-hyeok murmured, more to himself than anything, “Assuming the bullet didn’t break, taking out the bullet will only cause more damage because I don’t know how deep it is. Assuming the bullet did break, I don’t know where the fragments would be or have the capability of removing them.”

Eun-yoo scoffed from behind, “You did surgery on Ji-su. You can take out a fucking bullet!”

Eun-hyeok retorted, “It’s risky right now. We need to keep moving forward and away from the military. Best option as of now is packing the wound.”

“Packing?” Ji-su was the first to ask, medical jargon confusing.  

“Basically what a tampon does,” Yu-ri explained. 

“Then just use a tampon!” Eun-yoo exclaimed. “We have some!”

Eun-hyeok says, rejecting his sister’s suggestion, “Packing is a better alternative.”

Eun-hyeok hastily started to lift up Jae-Heon’s shirt once the jacket was removed, Jae-Heon staying still as he shuddered a little from the cold air once again. Yu-ri handed the last remaining gauze and Eun-hyeok had a hesitant look before using the jacket to dry and wipe the blood away to get a better view of the wound.

Kneeling down, Eun-hyeok wore an apologetic expression before grabbing the gauze and putting it inside the bullet wound, making Jae-Heon discomfort shoot through the roof. Even worse when Eun-hyeok kept a direct, steady pressure on the wound as he packed the gauze inside. 

“Oh that’s gross,” Eun-yoo commented, prompting Jae-Heon to offer a weak, apologetic smile. 

Jae-Heon didn’t know how to feel about the fact that there was both a bullet and tightly packed gauze inside of him, each second amplifying the pressure. Eun-hyeok was applying firm pressure to the now packed wound, Jae-Heon suppressing any pained noises from escaping. The only thing that distracted Jae-Heon was just how cold Eun-hyeok’s hands were. Despite the snowy weather, Eun-hyeok’s hands felt unnaturally cold, reminiscent of Hyun-su’s own hands. That wasn’t good. The swordsman was brought back to reality when Eun-hyeok seemingly stopped doing anything else, just applying pressure. 

“Why’d you stop!?” Eun-yoo exclaimed. 

Yu-ri replied for Eun-hyeok, “He’s applying pressure in hopes that the blood clots.”

“What if it doesn’t clot?” Ji-su asked, nervous as anyone would be seeing their friend in this position.

“He bleeds out,” Eun-hyeok deadpanned. “If it doesn’t clot in eight minutes, he’s bleeding out.”

Jae-Heon heard the sharp intake of breath from Sang-Wook. 

Jae-Heon felt a haziness of pain and discomfort, but guilt was added in as he realized he’s just contributing a bunch of anxiety in the group. His growing list of injuries made him feel increasingly useless. Everything was already hectic and he was making it worse. He suppressed those feelings, knowing it’s not going to make anything better. Jae-Heon grits the pain down and he doesn’t pray but he internally demands his damn blood to clot. 

Sang-Wook was keeping time, staring right at Jae-Heon’s watch. It was better than watching the man that made his life felt worth living for once, looking so faded and pale. 

Wasn’t until six minutes in that Eun-hyeok started moving again, him tapping the other side of Jae-Heon’s shirt that was still down. Sang-Wook took that signal as needing the entire bottom shirt lifted, which is what he did. 

“It clotted,” Eun-hyeok mumbled but loud enough for everyone to let out a breath. Shirt lifted up and Eun-hyeon started to use more gauze, this time wrapping it around Jae-Heon’s torso. He did it until it looked snug enough.

Eun-hyeok put the remaining gauze, which wasn’t much, back into the backpack and wiped his bloodied hands on his shirt. He stood up and sighed. “That’s what I can do for now. We need to keep moving. You two,” he gestured to Jae-Heon and Sang-Wook, “Need to walk slow. If the bleeding starts again, get me and I’ll do the packing again. Or Yu-ri.”

Yu-ri confirmed, “I’ll be with Jae-Heon and Sang-Wook just in case.”

Ji-su added with firmness, “So will I.”

Yu-ri mumbled, shooting Ji-su a look, “Good, because I would’ve made you stay with me anyways. You need someone to watch you; you’re exerting yourself too much.”

Ji-su made a scoffing noise, scowling when Eun-yoo made a comment about how she needed a babysitter. Eun-hyeok had started walking again, pushing his sister to move with him who kept trying to avoid him. Eun-yoo glanced over at Jae-Heon with a mix of hesitant relief before following her brother. 

Jae-Heon was somewhat out of it, hands shaky as he tried to help Sang-Wook put down his shirt. He needed to change out of his if he ever got a chance. Being in a shirt with his own blood wasn’t good for the mind, in his opinion.  

“I survived,” Jae-Heon weakly remarked, speaking low enough for Sang-Wook alone to hear.

Sang-Wook wrapped his arm over his waist, considerate of the wound. He grumbled, “Better stay that way.”

Jae-Heon was about to tell Sang-Wook to get his weapon but Ji-su beat him to it, carrying the weapon herself. She was holding both her bat and his sword in separate hands.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jae-Heon weakly joked. 

“I’ll give those lessons to myself,” Ji-su snorted. “Self-taught.”

Jae-Heon gave a tired smile yet genuine smile. He genuinely looked forward to when everything calmed down, praying and hoping for that day or come, so he can finally give those lessons. Jae-Heon knew he was exhausted because he didn’t even realize they started walking, his feet dragging intermittently. 

“Need help?” Yu-ri asked, looking at Sang-Wook helping Jae-Heon walk, Jae-Heon entirely putting his weight against the man. Jae-Heon’s energy was deplenishing. 

“No,” Sang-Wook grunted. It wasn’t because he wanted to be independent or didn’t trust her; Jae-Heon was just easy to support. It just stung a little to see Jae-Heon like this. 

Yu-ri hummed at that, staying close nonetheless. Jae-Heon couldn’t even bring himself to thank Yu-ri for the help, feeling too exhausted. Part of him started to have a build of panicked worries of whether he can close his eyes or that’ll be it for him. That part was getting more distant, the feeling of worry replaced with overwhelming fatigue. 

A clattering noise was heard and Yu-ri gave something in Jae-Heon’s hand, a pill. She said, “Take it. It’ll help with the pain.” 

Sang-Wook stopped walking, giving Jae-Heon time to swallow the pill. Jae-Heon swallowed down the pill dryly, hating the feeling of it without water. They began walking again, Jae-Heon feeling sluggish. He openly allowed Sang-Wook to help him walk down the route of the underground tunnels. He was aware of how his breathing sounded troubled but not terrible. Pursing his lips together, he began to pray. He could feel himself slip away when he did.

Sang-Wook tensed up when Jae-Heon just went limp. His heart dropped when he looked over at Jae-Heon who had his eyes closed. His chest wouldn’t intake any breath  as he jostled Jae-Heon.

“Hey,” Sang-Wook whispered first, stopping in his tracks. The other two didn't notice. Nothing. No response. Again, he tried, volume increasing. “Hey.”

Ji-su was the first to glance back, and she immediately turned Yu-ri around to see the situation. Yu-ri hurried to Jae-Heon’s side, hand shooting straight for the wrist. Seconds later and Yu-ri let out a sigh, a relieved one.

“Still alive,” she said, dropping the wrist down gently. “His pulse is still there, just weak. He’s fine; he can rest for now.”

Sang-Wook felt his chest lighten a little. Fuck, Jae-Heon really as going to be the death of him. 

“If the wound isn’t bleeding again,” Yu-ri continued, “assume he’s still alive.”

Sang-Wook got an awful realization from the other possibility: the wound bleeds again. The possibility of Jae-Heon dying. Yes, he’s thought about it, experienced it, having Jae-Heon being too close to death. 

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Jae-Heon dies.

He stopped thinking about that quickly, focusing on having Jae-Heon’s limp body moving again. He didn’t want to think about Jae-Heon dying. 

—

Jae-Heon just knew the minute his eyes opened he had passed out. It wasn’t hard to tell anyways, being in a new location. He wasn’t moving, on the dusty ground. His body was resting against Sang-Wook’s side, the warmth providing comfort to his hazy mind— a headache knocking too loudly right now. The pill must’ve also kicked in; his body wasn’t in pain right now. 

“Break,” Sang-Wook muttered, and Jae-Heon realized Sang-Wook was holding his hand. 

Jae-Heon gently squeezed the man’s hand. His voice was a little hoarse, “Sorry?”

“Taking a break,” Sang-Wook keeps his voice low, eyes downcast onto their hands, “They got tired.”

Sang-Wook had dragged Jae-Heon’s body with him, going wherever the fuck Yi-kyeong was leading them to. They’ve been at it for too fucking long. Everyone else started to express their exhaustion of walking in what felt like an endless tunnel. Sang-Wook himself could keep going on if it weren’t for the build up of anxiety that ate away at him, waiting each hour of Jae-Heon waking up. 

He kept convincing himself that Jae-Heon would wake up, each hour going to feel his wrist, feeling that weak pulse. By the time they finally took a break from walking, all Sang-Wook knew it was the next day by the look of Jae-Heon’s watch. 

His anxiety flew out the window the minute Jae-Heon woke up though. He was about to fucking hunt down the man that held the gun that hit his swordsman if Jae-Heon hadn’t. 

Jae-Heon nodded at that, grunting a little as he shifted to he scooted closer to Sang-Wook. “How long was I out?”

“A day,” Sang-Wook says.

“We’ve been underground for a day?” Jae-Heon says, more baffled at the idea of them not even finding a way out in comparison to him passing out for a good chunk of time. 

“How do you feel?” Sang-Wook asks, not caring if they never found a way out, as long as Jae-Heon was awake.

“The pill definitely worked or is still working,” Jae-Heon let out a dry chuckle, a little pained because he moved his body slightly in a way the wound didn’t agree with. “Which is surprising considering it has been a day.”

That went without reply, not that Jae-Heon minded. He looked around his surroundings, and it was just them. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Jae-Heon asked Sang-Wook. 

Sang-Wook coughed lightly, “Ahead. Not far.”

Jae-Heon had a look of confusion, and Sang-Wook mumbled, “Wanted to be alone with you.”

Jae-Heon chuckled, smiling at the confession. He looked down at their intertwined hands and he frowned when he saw the blood stained on the both of them. His blood. The blood was dried on, caking mostly Sang-Wook’s hand. 

“Sorry,” Jae-Heon apologized, his voice hushed. 

Sang-Wook didn’t mind. That was a lie. Having the person who you loved and their blood on your hands was fucking awful. The idea that the last thing that might’ve been Jae-Heon was the blood on his hands was something that lingered in his mind throughout the whole time he carried Jae-Heon’s limp body. Every hour that had passed, and Jae-Heon didn’t wake, was tortuous for him. 

“You could’ve died,” Sang-Wook said, and it wasn’t hard to miss the way his voice faltered. He squeezed Jae-Heon’s hand in assurance for himself.

“I know,” Jae-Heon breathed out. He thought he was. Everyday, he thought that for the past whenever this whole thing started. Dying by a monster, protecting others was something he didn’t mind. Dying by bringing the backpack that the group needed, he was fine by that. Dying, seeing Sang-Wook’s eyes colored in fear, bleeding out in Sang-Wook’s arms, he was far from fine. Dying knowing he was hurting Sang-Wook in the long run was something he wanted to prevent. He sniffled, “I know.”

Sang-Wook didn’t know what he’d do if Jae-Heon died. He didn’t know what else was left of him that was worth living for. Sang-Wook didn’t know what he’d do, burying Jae-Heon. 

He just couldn’t lose him. He can’t. He doesn’t even think he’d continue living if Jae-Heon were to die. Nothing else was worth living for. Nothing worth loving for again. To think that the palm in his hand, warm and alive, was going to be ripped away from him because of a bullet was a disgusting feeling Sang-Wook couldn’t exactly pinpoint. 

He’s fallen in love for the first time. That can’t get ripped away from him so easily. It’d destroy him. Both Sang-Wook and Jae-Heon knew this.

Sang-Wook hasn’t explained everything, hasn’t explained all his fears that he buried, hadn’t explained his whole story completely, hadn’t exposed himself bare to Jae-Heon. He wants to have that chance. He wants to be able to know Jae-Heon will survive to know it all. Staring at the bloodied hands created fear. Fear that he’ll never be able to tell everything in time. It would take more than some years to get over everything, to spill everything so easily. 

Years are too much—asking for too much right now. 

Days are too much as well. Sang-Wook dreads that maybe this’ll be the last time they talk before Jae-Heon potentially bleeds out. Potentially is the keyword.

Sang-Wook knows he won't sleep well after this. Knows he’d dream about the alternative. The alternative is still possible, and Sang-Wook feels a sour taste in his mouth. All Sang-Wook wanted was to be by Jae-Heon’s side. All he ever wanted for the first time can be gone so easily, so fragile than it ever has been.

He can’t bury family again. Not again.

Jae-Heon won’t die. 

If Jae-Heon’s life ends, Sang-Wook knows he isn’t going to be far behind him. 

He felt a breathless panic wash over him. He can’t quite understand what he’s exactly feeling, only knowing that he can’t bear to lose Jae-Heon.

“Sang-Wook,” Jae-Heon’s voice hits him all the sudden, and he knows that wasn’t the first time his name was called.  

Jae-Heon was watching Sang-Wook cry. It wasn’t an audible cry, just tears streaking down his partner’s face that contorted into a serious glare that was fixed on their intertwined hands. 

Sang-Wook took a shuddering breath in, grimacing at how his nose audibly sniffled mucus with a wet noise. He looked at Jae-Heon, looking watery in his vision. Instinctively, he went to wipe the forsaken tears but Jae-Heon stopped him, holding his wrist. Jae-Heon was about to move but Sang-Wook stopped him, holding him in place in fear of the wound bleeding again. 

Jae-Heon either got stronger or Sang-Wook just wasn’t in the right mindset at the moment, because Jae-Heon easily moved out of his grasp and settled onto his lap, hands resting on Sang-Wook’s shoulders. 

Feeling a sharp pain but dismissing it, Jae-Heon wiped away the tears with his thumb. “I’m here.”

That did it for Sang-Wook, as he choked a little, chest tightening as he let out some sort of strangled noise, and just cried. Jae-Heon can’t just say that with the voice of promise. He can’t. Sang-Wook can’t take that possible lie. 

Sang-Wook couldn’t see anymore, bleary vision as he only felt Jae-Heon’s thumbs circling the sides of his face. It suddenly hit him, as he felt Jae-Heon’s hands on his face, that he was scared. 

He’s scared.

He’s so fucking scared.

The weight of loving someone and the fear of losing them was something Sang-Wook felt before. He remembers how scared he was after losing his family. He remembers that he wanted to bury the feeling of being scared deep down away so it wouldn’t hurt him again. Buried it so deep that he lived his life not scared of dying. Never letting anything make him scared.

That obviously went out the fucking window, being scared shitless right now. Jae-Heon positively ruined his life for the better, and Sang-Wook wouldn’t have it any other way. A savior to his life to put it short. Holy bastard, saving Sang-Wook from himself—his holy bastard that is.

Jae-Heon patiently waited for Sang-Wook’s heart to relax, gently massaging the man’s temples in efforts to soothe him. Once the tears had stopped continuously coming down, Jae-Heon began wiping the remaining tears away. 

Sang-Wook’s eyes felt awkwardly puffy, and his nose wouldn’t shut the fuck up with the sniffling. He wanted to cry again when he saw Jae-Heon smile at him when his vision cleared. 

“I’m scared,” Sang-Wook shakily admitted. That smile can be ripped away from him. 

Jae-Heon felt his heart shatter everywhere. Seeing Sang-Wook vulnerable, scared, was heart wrenching. It hurt—a lot. Taking a steadying breath, he whispered, “I am too.”

He steadies his voice, cupping Sang-Wook’s face to have their eyes meet. “But I’m here. I am here. I know it’s scary thinking that I might not be later. But right now, I’m here. It’s hard to believe that, especially now. I know…and I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Sang-Wook sniffled, grimacing at how gross it sounded. 

Resting his forehead against Sang-Wook’s, Jae-Heon continued to wipe away the remaining stray tears. Jae-Heon doesn’t know if he can keep talking, just a step away from crying himself. He managed a quiet whisper of a promise, “We’ll be okay.”

Sang-Wook felt tears threatening again. He held them back, letting out a heavy sigh as he shakily held Jae-Heon’s waist. 

Being in love sucked. 

But given the choice, Sang-Wook would do it over and over again with Jae-Heon. 

Jae-Heon placed one hand behind the back of Sang-Wook’s head, fingers gently running up through his hair. Sang-Wook sniffled, a shiver going up his spine at the comforting sensation. Sang-Wook closed his eyes, still being overly sensitive and unaccustomed to intimate touches, he merely melted under Jae-Heon’s touch. 

Sang-Wook steadied his breath, the tears now spent, leaving only a blissful warmth, that was a welcome after crying, Sang-Wook still surprised he even did that. A persistent headache throbbed behind his eyelids, but he pushed it aside for the moment. He just focused on the now, focused on the fingers that gently scraped over his scalp. Focused on the pleasant buzz that distracted his fears for now. And, more importantly, focused on the fact that Jae-Heon was still here. 

——

Jae-Heon couldn’t help the curl of his lips. 

Sang-Wook had adjusted their positions, settling Jae-Heon more comfortably on his lap to ensure it wouldn’t aggravate the wound. Jae-Heon’s back was against his chest, both individuals equally warm. Sang-Wook enveloped Jae-Heon from behind, arms securely wrapped around his upper torso, leaving the lower part untouched for the sake of sensitivity. Sang-Wook had his face buried in Jae-Heon’s shoulder, inhaling deeply a couple of times since his nose was stuffy as hell. 

Jae-Heon was content, thoroughly. It was a lovely moment, quiet yet resonant with the unspoken need they shared. The need to be together. It was mutual, that’s for sure, with the deep yearning that lingered in the air. Jae-Heon really needed to have some control over his injuries. It was as if fate itself was taunting him, suggesting that in some other timeline he’d be dead long ago. 

A very giddy chuckle left Jae-Heon’s mouth, goosebumps on his arms as Sang-Wook was pressing his face on his neck, planting faint kisses on it. Jae-Heon, pleasantly surprised, eagerly tilted sideways, offering more access for his partner.

Sang-Wook, catching the surprise, grumbled, “I just cried, leave me alone.”

Jae-Heon heartily laughed at that, feeling a cozy warmth enveloping him. Sang-Wook almost sighed lovingly at the laugh but he knew he had to maintain some semblance of his tough demeanor. He really was getting too soft. 

Now in the stage of convincing himself Jae-Heon was truly alive, Sang-Wook pressed closer to the warm skin, needing to feel how alive Jae-Heon is. The swordsman was more than eager to let himself melt against him, as Sang-Wook peppered more kisses. Admittedly, for Sang-Wook this was out of his comfort zone but, fuck, he just needed to do this otherwise he’d go insane. No one, nothing, was going to rip Jae-Heon away from him right now. 

“Hey, is he awake?” Ji-su’s voice interrupted, walking towards them. Sang-Wook scowled at the intrusion.

Ji-su, unfazed by the sight of Sang-Wook hugging Jae-Heon from behind, snorted. She looked at Sang-Wook, “You look like shit.”

“He just cried,” Jae-Heon explained, earning a glare from Sang-Wook. 

“Ah,” Ji-su hummed, polite enough to not pry out any more details. She pulled out a pill bottle and tossed it to Jae-Heon, who barely caught it. The bottle emitted a faint rattle as a few pills shifted inside.

“Take it,” Ji-su lightly ordered, “Doctor’s order. You too, Sang-Wook, the headache from crying is a bitch.”

Opening the bottle, Jae-Heon found four pills. Sighing, guilt gnawing at him for using limited sources, he took a pill and dryly swallowed it, grimacing as it went down his throat.

“After that, get up because we're going to walk again,” Ji-su said, already turning on her heel to leave. Jae-Heon was reminded of her taking his jingum for the time being, looking at her holding it behind her back. “And give the bottle to Yu-ri later.”

“Have you been practicing?” Jae-Heon jokingly called out, Ji-su’s grumbling being heard from a distance.

Sang-Wook swallowed the pill with relative ease and sighed,  “Can you get up by yourself?”

“I think so, but if you’re hugging me like this, I don’t think I can,” Jae-Heon chuckled lightly, tapping Sang-Wook’s arms that were around his chest, holding him from standing up. Jae-Heon realized he was tapping bare arms. “Your jacket…”

“It has your blood,” Sang-Wook mumbled into Jae-Heon’s shoulder. “Don’t want to wear it.”

Sang-Wook really didn’t want to wear the jacket, at first being wet and not good for this weather. Secondly, it had blood on it—Jae-Heon’s blood . He wasn’t going to wear that shit, and definitely didn’t care as much as he did before if people stared at his scarred arm. Eun-yoo has offered, after unsuccessfully trying to steal it, to keep his jacket. Sang-Wook settled on putting it around his waist. 

“Sorry,” Jae-Heon mumbled, feeling a pang of guilt. “Must be cold for you…”

Sang-Wook snorted dryly, “I’m fine.” 

Jae-Heon exhaled softly, tapping Sang-Wook’s arms once more. “Come on, gotta get up.”

Sang-Wook made a grumbling noise and unwrapped his arms from Jae-Heon. Slowly, Jae-Heon got up, using the wall for support, and Sang-Wook stood by, his arm wrapping around Jae-Heon’s waist to steady him. 

“I think I can walk—”

“No,” Sang-Wook cut him off, sternly. Which, fair. Jae-Heon did get shot, and one wrong move might cause the bleeding to start again. 

Without much argument, the two together walked forward, and it wasn't long before they stumbled back into the group, finding themselves behind everyone else. They kept a fair distance, enough to hear the ongoing conversation.

“Are we gonna die wandering around like this?” Seung-wan whined from a distance. 

“Just shut up.” Jae-hwan retorted back. “I’m not gonna fucking die here.” 

Seung-wan groaned, “This must be God’s punishment. Why else would this be happening?!” 

Ji-su and Eun-yoo in unison yelled back, “Shut up!”

Jae-Heon clicked his tongue in disapproval, not directed at the girls but at the accusation of this being God’s fault. He wanted to argue, mostly to himself and Sang-Wook, that God could never make such a punishment. It’s too… confusing to be a punishment. Too cruel. Tired and all, he just kept quiet. 

Sang-Wook didn’t miss the disapproval radiating off his partner, choosing not to comment on it. He didn’t care about God or whatever, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this was some sort of punishment from God. The guy was notorious for flooding a bunch of people. It was fucked up if Sang-Wook thought too hard about it. 

Everyone else hasn’t gotten up, all exhausted and drained of much emotion, sitting on the ground. Yi-kyeong and Eun-hyeok were busy exploring the other passages. This was more of an underground maze if anything, Jae-Heon lightly mused to himself. 

Sang-Wook placed Jae-Heon’s back against the rocky wall, wires scattered everywhere. Hye-in was straight across, not looking so great either. She glanced over at the two men, particularly focusing on Jae-Heon’s side where he got shot. 

Jae-Heon shifted in his spot, suddenly self-conscious. She broke her stare, looking down at her hands. The two men shared a glance after that. The couple jolted just slightly when they heard a faint bell noise coming from their right. Jae-Heon didn’t notice the random entry area on the right side of himself. These underground tunnels were something that’s for sure, strange enough for making entries and exits that one would pass by crouching or crawling under. 

That wasn’t surprising, though. What was surprising was a small fluff waddling out of that entry. Bom!

Both men equally forgot about the dog, Jae-Heon not even realizing the dog was missing. Jae-Heon felt bad for this, especially since Bom was the cutest thing ever. Poor dog though, managing to get under these tunnels. 

Hye-in immediately crouched down to her dog in disbelief. “Bom. Bom. Hi, sweetie.” She petted the fur of Bom. Her voice cracked a little when she said, “Oh where have you been?”

Bom barked twice, Sang-Wook wincing because that sharp bark echoing was a little piercing, and his headache wasn’t helping. 

The fluff of a dog started running down the tunnel, and Hye-in was quick to be in pursuit after her dog. The injured swordsman felt instinctively compelled to go after Hye-in, as she could be walking into some unknown danger without knowing it, but Sang-Wook had a steady grip, preventing him from moving. 

Jae-Heon huffed a little, his partner giving him a glare in return. Yi-kyeong noticed Hye-in and went after her, with Eun-hyeok following afterwards, providing some relief to the injured man. They ran down the tunnel until they were out of view. 

“Bom is a cute dog,” Jae-Heon said, genuine. Jae-Heon was more of a cat person but Bom was a literal ball of fluff. Jae-Heon didn’t know why but he could imagine him and Sang-Wook living together with a cat. Oddly domestic for Jae-Heon’s standards that his heart skipped a beat and a faint smile on his face. 

“What?” Sang-Wook noticed the smile.

Jae-Heon waved it off, and chuckled, “Nothing...”

A beat or two afterwards, Eun-hyeok came back and said, “We found an exit.”

Sang-Wook helped Jae-Heon off the wall, arm wrapped around his waist, waiting for everyone else to go ahead so they’d stay at the back of the moving group. 

Feet shifting against the floor, everyone was gathered at the pried open chain-link fence, Yi-kyeong climbing the ladder and the first one out of the manhole. The children and Jin-ok were priority, going up the ladder first while Eun-hyeok was making sure everyone got up. Eun-yoo stubbornly stayed next to Eun-hyeok as the group climbed the ladder. 

Seeing Jae-Heon and Sang-Wook being left, Eun-yoo nudged Eun-hyeok to climb the ladder, knowing well enough Jae-Heon might take long. Eun-hyeok grumbled something under his breath and climbed the ladder, with Eun-yoo giving the two men a look. Eun-yoo opened her mouth but closed it quickly, looking back at her brother before climbing up too. 

Jae-Heon couldn’t help thinking maybe it had to do with how cold Eun-hyeok’s hand felt. 

“Go first,” Sang-Wook snapped him out of his thoughts.

Jae-Heon hummed an acknowledgement and grabbed the side of the ladder, stepping on the first rung and hoisting himself up. He grunted, pain starting to bloom a little. He powered through it, Sang-Wook right below him, ready to help him if needed.

Jae-Heon peeked his head out when he was at the top of the ladder. He was instantly met with a sharp coldness and blinding brightness. As his eyes adjusted to the bright day on a snowy landscape, he realized they were in the middle of the city, everything was covered in white snow, eerily desolate. Jae-Heon never thought he’d see this city so barren and quiet. Yi-kyeong helped pull him onto the surface, Sang-Wook climbing out right after. Sang-Wook grumbled under his breath on how bright it was. 

Steady on their feet, Sang-Wook hopped off the…box…thingy? Whatever it was, he helped Jae-Heon get off it, easing him onto the ground. Yi-kyeong left to regroup with the others. Sang-Wook’s eyes followed her regrouping with everyone and onto the goddamn military right in front of the group. Bunch of soldiers with those fucking guns. Begrudgingly, he and Jae-Heon walked over there at a slow pace.

Hobbling closer, a soldier was holding out a tablet and showing it to Yi-kyeong. They both couldn’t see what exactly was being shown on screen, but it prompted Jae-Hwan to move closer to the soldiers.

“I pushed it, all right? I...” Jae-Hwan tried to walk up to the soldier, only to be pushed down by another soldier. Seung-wan quickly helped him up, the soldiers keeping their aim at them. 

Sang-Wook instinctively held Jae-Heon closer to him, the guns being pointed at the group not helping. In the corner of his eye, he saw Eun-hyeok step closer to his sister. Eun-yoo grabbed Hyun-su’s sleeve, Hyun-su having a bit of a blank stare but stepping back just a little. Hyun-su and Jae-Heon shared a glance, Jae-Heon silently urging Hyun-su to do nothing. 

“That means you didn’t push it.” The soldier holding up the tablet said, putting it down by her side. “It looks like you don’t care about Nam Sang-won anymore.” 

Yi-kyeong remained silent. 

The soldier took the briefcase from Yi-kyeong’s hands easily. “The deal isn’t over yet.” The soldier then muttered something into her handheld transceiver. 

The soldiers that surrounded them dropped their aim just ever so slightly. Yi-kyeong turned her back on the soldier, looking at everyone. “They’ll be taking us to their base. A shelter base,” she informed. 

Eun-hyeok was the first to object, “We can’t trust them. We were running from them for a reason. Hyun-su—”

Yi-kyeong, in a hushed whisper, “They don’t know Hyun-su is the infected I told them about. Keep it that way and they won’t do anything. All they know is you’re human, and need help. There’s nothing else we can do.”

Eun-hyeok exhaled through his nose, frustrated but didn’t argue anymore. Eun-yoo shot an accusing glare at Jae-Hwan. 

“I’ll tell them you got shot,” Yi-kyeong said to Jae-Heon. Then to Ji-su, “and your recent surgery. They’ll know what to do.”

Yi-kyeong left to the same soldier that took her briefcase. Everyone had some hesitance to this revelation of them being transported somewhere supposedly safer. 

Ji-su shuffled towards Jae-Heon’s side. She mumbled, “Did you recognize that name?”

Nam Sang-won. Jae-Heon had no recollection of that name anywhere, but the possible answer came quickly when he remembered. 

“Her fiancé,” Sang-Wook beat Jae-Heon to it.

Ji-su had her brows raised. “Oh shit? The CruCru guy? Shit, the military’s probably using that guy as leverage over Yi-kyeong. Fuck…can’t trust these guys at all.”

“Eun-hyeok was right,” Jae-Heon muttered. “We were getting away from them for a reason.”

Ji-su sighed, shifting her weight on her other foot. “You think we’ll be safe? Shelter means other people, other survivors.”

“I don’t know,” Jae-Heon mumbled with uncertainty. The military was offering shelter and sanctuary, optional not being an option. Crisis is happening right now, martial law has been enacted. They have authority over civilian rule and that’s dangerous power. Then again, it’s better than any other option they have currently. 

“At least we’re alive,” Ji-su sighed with a shrug. That’s a settlement for a positive outlook on everything. Because, yes, at least they are alive.

The soldiers started to push the group back, trucks rolling in. Sang-Wook was about to fight the soldier in front of them who tried pushing back Jae-Heon and him. The violent glare in Sang-Wook’s eyes was enough for the soldier to rethink and just push at the air, the two stepping back for themselves. 

Two trucks parked in the middle of the group, a soldier putting down the tailgate on one of the trucks. This was everyone’s cue to start moving. 

Jin-ok and the children were the first to board the truck, sitting in the front on the right side. Hye-in, with Bom in her arms, took the left side. Jae-Hwan and Seung-wan sat next to Hye-in. Yu-ri took the right side next to the children, Eun-yoo climbing on the truck and sitting next to the nurse. Eun-hyeok was seated next to Seung-wan, Seung-wan shrinking into himself a little. 

It was getting crowded on the left side, Hyun-su sitting next to Eun-yoo, Ji-su sitting next to him at the end. Right side being full, Sang-Wook sat next to Eun-hyeok, Jae-Heon squeezing next to his partner. 

“They literally have another truck,” Ji-su huffed. Hyun-su was trying not to take up so much room for the two girls that sandwiched him. 

“It’s for the pigs,” Eun-yoo responded testily, referring to the other soldiers boarding the other truck. 

Ji-su grumbled when a soldier had the audacity to squeeze himself next to her, pushing the capacity limits. The tailgate was pulled up, and Ji-su started grabbing at the soldier and the tailgate.

“Wait. Someone didn’t get on yet.” 

Eun-yoo started looking around when she said that, confused. “We’re waiting for someone.” 

Yi-kyeong hadn’t got on the truck yet, and on cue, she came into view with a new getup. Proper military gear now adorned her body. 

Ah. Jae-Heon knew right then and there she wasn’t coming with the group anytime soon. The two girls who had advocated for her getting on were in disbelief. 

“You must survive.” Yi-kyeong ordered. 

Nobody dared to reply, and even if they wanted to, the engine started up. Once the truck started to move, Ji-su still looked at Yi-kyeong, as if she was pleading for her to get on. Eun-yoo tore her gaze away, looking at her brother as if he could do something. 

Yi-kyeong was leaving them to the military. 

Sang-Wook huffed to himself. Of course, she would leave the goddamn group to these bastards. She did leave the group before, some of them not even realizing when she had left to go to her damn fiancé’s office. Sang-Wook just felt bitter about it. 

The truck had moved away, Yi-kyeong becoming more and more of a speck. 

“She’ll be fine; she can handle herself,” Jae-Heon reassured Ji-su, who didn’t stop looking back. “We can handle ourselves. We’ll be fine.”

Ji-su tore her gaze away, not bothering to look at Jae-Heon. The ride was bumpy and quiet, with some yips from Bom whenever Jae-Hwan tried petting it. Jae-Heon let out a small exhale and looked at the empty streets they passed. The whole city was quiet and empty, covered in white. It was haunting. 

Even with the dread of countless deaths that have happened, a heavy weight was lifted off Jae-Heon’s chest. He felt unbelievably relieved now. Yes, his guard shouldn’t lower, monsters probably roaming around the vacant city but…it was so relieving to be out of the apartment complex, safely—ignoring the fact he got shot, of course—and still being alive. And he wasn’t alone; everyone else was still standing alongside him. Sang-Wook was standing alongside him. 

“We made it,” Jae-Heon softly breathed out, a cold cloud escaping him.  

“Yeah,” Sang-Wook responded lowly, so Jae-Heon only heard. Looking at Jae-Heon, seeing his eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiled was rewarding. That was why Sang-Wook wanted to survive so hard recently. That was why he never wanted to let go of that smile. That was his hope. 

It overwhelmed Sang-Wook. Hope was a dangerous thing to have currently, but fuck it, he was feeling a surge of hope because of the man next to him. He had hope for a future, for a future with Jae-Heon. A future worth living. 

Jae-Heon let out a laugh. And another  laugh after that. He didn’t care about the look he got from the others when tears gathered in his eyes. He just kept laughing, leaning into Sang-Wook with a smile. His stressed-out heart finally got a breather, even if it was temporary. 

Sang-Wook looked at Jae-Heon and laughed back. It was more of a half-hearted chuckle but it was enough for Eun-yoo to give him a strange look. 

Jae-Heon loved the sound of his chuckle, laughing more but in earnest love. He looked up at Sang-Wook with such saccharine hope in his eyes that it suffocated Sang-Wook a bit. 

He didn’t deserve it, Sang-Wook thinking in the back of his mind. He didn’t deserve someone like Jae-Heon, he didn’t deserve hope or love because of his history. Didn’t deserve to live. Yet, he allowed it. He allows to be loved and to love for once in his life. And, yeah, it’s fucking scary but fucking awarding if it meant to be with a sunshine like Jae-Heon.  

And yeah, it was the moment, but fuck it, maybe he did deserve Jae-Heon. Maybe he did deserve this love. 

“You and me,” Jae-Heon whispered a promise just to themselves, “We’ll be okay.”

Jae-Heon intertwined their hands, squeezing the rougher hand in his. Jae-Heon was going to fight for them, was going to fight endlessly for his love and hope and for the group. For all he has, he’s going to give it his all to the very end. 

Sang-Wook quietly sighed and faintly smiled. 

Jae-Heon’s heart fluttered at the sight of Sang-Wook smiling. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was enough for Jae-Heon to fall in love with it. Jae-Heon could not wait to see more of those smiles in the future and fall in love with it all over again. 

And for as long as they stood together, they’ll be okay.