Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The last hill before the land plateaus and winds around to the compound comes into view and Jungwon breathes a sigh of relief. They’ve been out since first light yesterday, and the sun is sinking below the horizon now, casting the forest in a faint golden light.

Even after a year of training- of doing days like these past two over and over again- Jungwon’s limbs ache. He chalks it up to spending last night on the forest floor, sitting up with his shoulder blades digging into the rough bark of the tree behind him. Jay had told him to lay down, but Jungwon is nothing if not stubborn and refused to do so if Jay wouldn’t too. Jungwon woke up with his face pillowed on Jay’s thigh anyway, and the older was gracious enough not to tease him about it as they gathered their things along with the others and set off again. 

What was supposed to be a week-long expedition was mercifully only two days, as they found a facility earlier today. Jungwon’s heartbeat jumps every time he thinks of it, remembering how they’d squatted in the undergrowth for two hours to observe the soldiers’ every move and pinpoint the best way to break inside. Remembering that the night is far from over and will be far from safe. 

Jungwon reaches the hill and starts to hike up it, ignoring the protesting burn in his thighs. Despite the danger, and despite the risk of what he could lose, he knows full well the end result of tonight’s raid will be worth it. It always is. For those who are trapped against their will in that facility, tonight will be their redemption. Their chance at a new life. 

It’s a chance his mother wasn’t given, and the fight will never leave Jungwon in memory of her. For her. For himself, for all of them. He and the others are the same in that way; they-

Jungwon detects the slightest pressure on his left thigh and moves so quickly he doesn't have time to look. He doesn’t need to anyway- his fingers wrap around the hilt of the knife Jay was trying to slip out of its holding before the older is successful. Jungwon pauses, turning to level him with an unimpressed glare. 

“Quit trying to steal my knives, asshole.” 

Jay is plainly amused by his attempted cheekiness, not even sparing him a glance as he brushes past him. 

“Just keeping you sharp,” he says, moving on up the hill.  He’s wearing a smug grin and Jungwon rolls his eyes, going after him. 

“I think you’re the one who needs practice,” Jungwon says when they’ve reached the top. Jay looks at him, that damn smirk stuck on his face again. 

“Yeah?” he challenges. Jungwon has admittedly always found immense satisfaction in being one of the very few who can show Jay up from time to time, hence why he enjoys holding up the knife he’d inconspicuously snatched from Jay’s pocket when they’d crested the hill so much. 

“Yeah.”

Jay’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second in the face of Jungwon’s carefully crafted nonchalance before they settle again. A small smile blooms on his lips instead. It starts slow, just tugging at the corners of his mouth and eventually pooling warmth in his eyes, and Jungwon is so familiar with this look on him. But it still catches him off guard, even after all this time. It still makes him feel like he’s melting from the inside out. 

The air settles. In times like these Jungwon hates to be the one to look away first. Jay raises an eyebrow at him, tantalizing, playful, maybe even a bit daring, and Jungwon can only stare back. 

He’s saved from a surely disastrous response when Niki plows right through them with a groan. Jungwon blinks after him, not having realized just how close he and Jay were to each other until being forced apart. 

Niki doesn’t turn around as he grumbles, “You two are almost worse than those two.”

Looking ahead, Jungwon spots Heeseung and Jake. They’re about to disappear around the corner of a cluster of trees, walking shoulder to shoulder with their fingers brushing but never just locking together. Jay throws his head back with a burst of rippling laughter, and Jungwon doesn’t know if he’s amused by their friends’ obvious feelings, or if he’s merely being a good sport about being teased like this. 

Regardless, Jungwon understands their hesitancy. A hand claps down on his shoulder. It’s Mark, bringing up the rear of their tracking team. 

“I disagree,” Mark says lightly, grinning like this is the funniest thing in the world. Jungwon despises them all. “You two are definitely worse.”

Jungwon shoves him away by the shoulder and Mark goes on without a fight, chuckling to himself. Jungwon looks back to Jay just to meet eyes that were already trained on him. He’s still smiling, small and gentle and warm. 

And it’s so fucking easy. All of this between them is so easy. They’ve been like this since the beginning, leaning into the push and pull, challenging each other whenever they can, and sharing these looks without ever speaking a word about what it all means beyond that. 

Jungwon holds Jay’s knife out to him, heart full and pulsing in his chest. Day’s last light is setting behind the older’s head as he raises a hand to take it, slowly, like he hasn’t a worry in the world. Like they don’t have a whole night of hell ahead of them when they get back to the compound and alert the others of the news. His fingers brush Jungwon’s when he takes the knife back. Jungwon looks into his eyes, glittering with mirth, warm and deep and knowing, and thinks the touch was likely intentional, as Jay always is. 

»

The innermost space of the compound has become known as the ring in the year they’ve been here, and its name serves it well. It’s a circular room at the heart of the compound, and the perfect place to hold meetings considering the sheer amount of people they need to relay information to on nights like this. 

News spread quickly when he and the others returned several hours prior. “The trackers found a facility.” “There’s going to be a raid tonight.” Word always spreads quickly. 

No one really sleeps on raid nights, foregoing rest in the early hours of the morning to instead ready themselves, which is why Jungwon is not at all surprised that people start flooding in just a minute or two after the lights throughout the compound are switched to a deep orange, signaling raiders to gather in the ring. Everyone’s eager to hear the plan. Everyone’s eager to get moving. Everyone’s eager to spill blood. 

Jay emerges from the growing crowd, slipping next to Jungwon’s side where he’s standing with his hips resting against the only table in the room, arms crossed over his chest. It’s become custom for the leaders to stand here in the center to ensure everyone can hear them. Taeyong is directly across from Jungwon, sharp eyes softening when Mark joins them, Heeseung and Jake by his side. Niki and Sunoo are already here, on the other side of Jay, but Jungwon is distracted from trying to catch Sunoo’s eye when Jay’s hand brushes against the small of his back. 

“It’s getting warm in here,” he comments idly. Jungwon hums in agreement, thinking about how much he wants to lean into his touch as he glances over the swelling mass of their people. 

Not much more time passes before Heeseung raises his voice, calling their attention. The chattering and general noise quiets immediately. “Let’s get started.” He gestures for Jungwon to go ahead. 

Jungwon straightens up, projecting so those in the back of the room can hear him clearly. “This facility looks to be a little smaller than the last one, and the guards are mostly focused by the front gate. There’s hardly any in the back so we shouldn’t have to worry about being ambushed from behind, just getting in initially. It’s a four mile walk, and the temperature’s dropping steadily so dress warm. As always, bring extra layers if you can for those we bring back tonight.” 

Jungwon takes a breath and meets Jay’s eyes, which the older seamlessly takes as his cue to pick up where Jungwon left off. 

“We should arrive at the facility around four. Everything else is routine. The darkness will protect us on our way there and we should all be back by the time the sun rises. Watch out for each other.” Jay pauses. Jungwon’s watching him, so he sees the way his eyes darken in real time. “No soldiers left alive.”

A visible wave of restlessness courses through the crowd, through each and every one of these individuals who have had so much taken from them by Unification soldiers. The fight that will never leave Jungwon will never leave them either; it’s the unwavering truth their entire lives are built on now. 

Flashes of an outstretched arm holding a gun over his mother’s head flits through Jungwon’s mind and he clenches his jaw against the onslaught of memories. No. The fight will never leave me. It won’t ever leave any of us. 

“Alright,” Taeyong’s cool voice rings out across the room. “Move out in thirty.”  

A few minutes time finds Jungwon and Jay in their room. The dim light setting is switched on so the room is fairly dark as they move about, going through the motions of preparing for the raid. The moments leading up to departure are usually like this- quiet- but today it feels especially somber. Their last raid, nearly three weeks ago, had cost the lives of two of their people. Two young boys who’d literally given everything for their cause. 

Jungwon sees their faces as he’s pulling on his boots and exhales heavily. Casualties amongst them are not rare, but they never get easier. For Jungwon, they serve as a stark, horrible reminder: it’s not a guarantee that they’ll all come back. Jungwon can’t be sure that the people he cares for most in the world will come back to him when the night is up, when the raid is done.

Finishing the last knot that laces his boot up, Jungwon rests his elbows on his knees where he’s sitting at the desk chair and looks over at Jay. He’s busy with his knives, slipping them into holding straps similar to Jungwon’s that are looped around his thighs and into the deep pockets of his pants, the insides of his jacket. He places them everywhere with expert hands, flashes of color catching Jungwon’s eyes in the low light. 

Jay’s been painting the hilts of all his knives for as long as Jungwon has known him. It’s incredibly endearing and terribly bittersweet, as the entire reason he does it takes root in what his older sister used to constantly do when she was alive: doodle. Jay’s always spoken so fondly of her, of the way she would use sticks to draw in the dirt and daggers to carve intricacies into trees. Jay adopted a form of that in remembrance of her; the hilt of every knife he acquires he paints a different color- deep reds or dark blues or forest greens- and then loops designs of black or white over the base color. 

Jungwon watches him a moment longer before standing and going over to him. Jay has just finished tucking his knives away as Jungwon steps into his space and reaches to zip his jacket up for him. He always forgets to do it. 

“You’re quiet today,” Jay murmurs. Jungwon can feel his eyes on him, but he doesn’t look up, splaying his hands across the older’s shoulders for a moment, then dropping them back to his sides in the next. Gentler, Jay adds, “Nervous?”

Jungwon thinks of the two boys they lost three weeks ago and swallows. No guarantee. There’s no guarantee they’ll all come back to you. There’s no guarantee Jay will come back to you. 

He shakes his head, distracting himself from the sick swoop of his stomach. “Just lost in thought.”

Jungwon does meet Jay’s eyes now. The older watches him closely for a moment before he nods minutely. He’s accepted the brief answer, but is probably thinking of those they lost too. 

Jay allows a few seconds of silence before he draws in an audible breath that lifts his shoulders, turning around for a moment. 

“Can’t forget these,” he says lightly, holding up what he’d swiped off the top of the dresser. Jungwon sniffs out a huff of laughter, as this is routine by now. He raises his hands, allowing Jay to tug the skin tight gloves over them. His fingers peek out the cut-outs in the top, and the memory of the first time Jay showed these to him is nearly enough to make Jungwon chuckle again. He flexes his hands when Jay’s done, shooting the older a stiff smile in thanks. 

Jay catches the far from enthusiastic gesture with keen eyes that have long since become accustomed to Jungwon’s emotions. Slowly, he raises one hand to fit in the juncture between Jungwon’s neck and shoulder while the other remains wrapped around his now gloved fingers. 

“Be careful,” Jay says, all traces of lightheartedness gone. There’s a furrow between his eyebrows, and Jungwon aches to reach out and smooth it away. He doesn’t. 

“You say that every time,” he deflects softly. 

“I mean it every time,” Jay says. His tone is firm and sure around the edges. His eyes are serious, gravely so. He’s always serious when it comes to Jungwon.

“I will,” Jungwon promises him. “Always.” 

Jay keeps watching him, and neither of them move. Jungwon is terribly reluctant to let him go, dreading the moment they’ll inevitably have to leave their room behind even more than he usually does. Here, inside these four walls, it feels like nothing can touch them. Here, they can each be every unapologetic bit of their authentic selves. 

Outside of this room, however, they are leaders. They were a part of the original group who proposed, and in turn saw out, this entire way of life, leading around a hundred people out of the abandoned city beyond the forest into the absolute unknown. The people still look to them because of their presence in all of this from the very beginning. 

Out there, Jungwon is the leader of the tracking team. Out there, Jay is the head trainer who teaches those who have been saved and want to fight the skills to do so. Out there, they are two of the team of six trackers; their people depend on them to scout out facilities in the forest to attack. Their people look their way for information, answers, and above all: courage. 

Determination for raids is not hard to come by. Killing Unification soldiers and saving those who are suffering are not things their people need help gathering the willpower to do. Rather, it’s fear. It’s the overhanging, overwhelming reality that they might not come back at all, and that their friends- their newfound family- might not come back either. That’s why they need to be encouraged when they look to their leaders.

So outside of this room, Jungwon and Jay cannot be afraid. Out there, they cannot hesitate.

Jay reads Jungwon like an open book, or at least that's what it feels like to Jungwon as the older runs a comforting hand down his arm. His warmth bleeds through the layers of Jungwon’s clothes, and Jungwon simply can’t fathom how he’s supposed to let Jay out of his sight. It’s been a year, and he’s still struggling with the concept of not being directly by Jay’s side when they run headfirst into very probable danger. 

“We need to go,” he says hoarsely, instead of voicing how he’s feeling. The clock is ticking and they both know it. 

Jay nods, hands falling away from Jungwon as he steps aside. Jungwon goes ahead of him, taking another deep breath and choosing to redirect his mindset so that he can be clear headed once they meet the others. With that conscious change in attitude, he finds it an appropriate time to be an ass. 

“Your boots tied?” 

“I tripped one fucking time!” Jay scoffs, accompanied with a knock to Jungwon’s shoulder that has him clambering out of their room with a burst of laughter. 

They make their way through the winding halls, meeting Niki on the way.

“There you are,” Sunoo sighs when they reach the front entrance. Niki bounds the last couple steps over to him, locking his arms behind his back and dragging the older up into a kiss. Sunoo puts up with the display for all of three seconds before grunting and demanding Niki place him back on his feet. 

“Always sappy goodbyes with you,” he snarks, but his tone holds no ill intent, and he makes no move to unwind Niki’s arms from around him, drawing him closer instead. On raid nights, Sunoo stays behind while Niki goes ahead, and it’s always difficult for them. As the leading medic of the compound, it’s vital that Sunoo is present when the sick and injured start flooding in. He’s self-taught, as medical supplies were never available to them in the abandoned cities, but he’s taken to it with an effortlessness they’ve only ever heard rumors of doctors in the Oases possessing. 

“Wonie,” Sunoo summons firmly, holding his hand out toward him. Jungwon steps closer and Sunoo drags him into their embrace, his arm locking around Jungwon’s shoulders, boney wrist prodding at his neck. And Niki digs his chin into the crown of Jungwon’s head. Hard. The little bitch. 

“Fuckin’- ow,” Jungwon hisses, readjusting and aiming a blind jab at Niki’s ribs as Sunoo laughs. 

“Jay!” Sunoo sings once he recovers, a blatant calling, and Jungwon feels said boy’s body drape against his back in a few seconds’ time. They stay there for a moment, locked together in a group huddle, and though Jungwon is having trouble breathing at the dramatics of it all, he can’t help but close his eyes. A flicker of calm before the storm. 

“Come back in one piece,” Sunoo orders, voice muffled in the fabric of someone’s jacket. He’s trying to be strong for all of them, but the waver in his tone still surfaces tonight as it usually does. He always puts in a valiant effort not to sound worried, but Jungwon doesn’t think he needs to just for their sake. 

Jungwon’s not naive enough to genuinely believe that these nights are easier for those who stay behind just because they’re not directly involved in the risk. Sunoo has to deal with plaguing  thoughts of losing them every time they leave him here, while all he can do is hope, and wait. Jungwon knows he would struggle similarly if he were in Sunoo’s position, watching everyone go but shouldering a responsibility too crucial to do anything but stay. 

“All of you,” Sunoo clarifies- though it’s unnecessary- firmer this time. 

Niki sidesteps weightiness and shoots for humor in an attempt to reassure his boyfriend as he croons, “Will do, babycakes.”

“Call me a god awful name one more time and I’ll beat your ass, Nishimura,” Sunoo threatens.

“Looking forward to it.” The brazen comment earns Niki a resounding slap, and Jay lets up from Jungwon’s back with a chuckle, giving Jungwon an out from the stifling hold of his friends. 

A few more minutes pass- too slowly, too quickly- and so many of them cram into the entrance that they start to spill out into the hallway. Jungwon, Jay, and Niki have slid up to the front where Taeyong, Mark, Heeseung, and Jake are already waiting. Taeyong meets each of their gazes respectively, checking for the green light from each of them with quick, calculating eyes. 

It doesn’t take long. He leads the way up the grated metal staircase to the last platform below the main door, the bottleneck tunnel arching close and climbing upward overhead. The guards that are stationed at the door heave it open. Jungwon doesn’t flinch as the gears squeal and screech, used to the sound. He steps out into the night, feeling the wind biting at his cheeks, feeling the souls of a hundred and fifty people spilling out of their compound and into the yard behind him. 

Jay is absolutely unmoving, his shoulder pressed to Jungwon’s from behind. The slightest pressure, and yet, it’s there, still and sure- a testament that Jay never slows down except for nights like this. While the others tremble and shake in apprehension, Jay is calm. He's ready. He’s always ready. 

The wind whistles in Jungwon’s ears and Jay’s knuckles brush against his wrist and Taeyong’s sharp eyes watch behind them until everyone has filed out and the door to their compound has closed again and all are waiting with their hearts in their throats, the night sky a dark blanket above them. 

Taeyong turns around. They begin. 

»

The facility lights can be seen blinking through the trees from afar. The stark un-subtleness of it almost makes Jungwon scoff. The planning that goes into building these facilities is not to protect from the outside, but rather from the inside. To ensure none of their test subjects escape. It fills Jungwon’s gut with bile, pumps fire into his veins. 

He clenches his fingers around the handle of his gun while crouching in the thick underbrush spread out beneath the last covering line of trees. Ahead is an open field, upon which the facility stands. Jungwon stares at it just as he did hours before, when he and the other trackers camped out right around here, watching the soldiers’ movements and habits. 

As far as they’re aware, all the Unification facilities are laid out the same way. Sometimes the size differs, but the dozen or so they’ve raided thus far have been carbon copies of one another. It’s a small comfort. The routine of getting inside this one should be the same- forcing down the metal gate, storming the front entrance, and killing off the soldiers on the main level before descending to the lower level where all the testings are done. Where all of the innocent people who have had their freedom ripped away from them are holed away, in passages of rooms that seem to go endlessly. 

As the leader of the trackers, Jungwon led everyone here and is therefore at the front. He twists around, knee brushing against the grass, to peer through the faint light at everyone behind him. His eyes catch on Jay’s form, who’s still right behind his shoulder. The older’s eyes are trained on the facility, steely and steady. Focused. Ready. But then they flit over to meet Jungwon’s, and he watches as warmth pools back into them like ink in water as they look at each other. A flicker of a smile flits across Jay’s face. Jungwon looks beyond him at the rest of the raiders, unable to return it. 

Those in the back of their large group have now caught up, everyone facing forward with wild eyes and antsy hands. Jungwon turns back, and rises. He can hear the undetectable whisper of those behind him following in suit, pants rustling and feet shuffling. From several meters away, the collective sound would be nothing but a whisper of the wind. This fucking hell house has no idea what’s coming for it. 

Taeyong stands at Jungwon’s right. He nods when Jungwon glances at him. Reaching back without turning his head, Jungwon squeezes Jay’s wrist. Just once. The wind blows. A rush of adrenaline spikes in Jungwon’s chest, sharp and poignant. He can taste it. 

It begins as it always does: all at once. With a flush of wind, in a moment. They move as one united force through the underbrush and across the field, no cries of warning on their lips, but a fierce gleam in their eyes and a burning sort of hatred urging their running feet forward. 

It goes on as it always does: swiftly. Quietly, at first. Violently. The metal gate is forced down with relative ease by a plethora of eager hands and heels digging into the dirt during the push. They eliminate the unprepared, recently unsuspecting soldiers in the yard quickly. Jungwon doesn’t see who, busy with a soldier who is putting up quite the fight, but someone nabs a keycard from a fallen soldier’s suit and swipes it through the reader. The entrance of the facility slides open with a hiss just as Jungwon finishes off his opponent, running inside to face the influx of soldiers rushing at them from all directions. He doesn’t need to mind his noise anymore- not with the alarms suddenly blaring in his ears, flashing red in his peripheral- he just needs to be ruthless. Smart. 

Jungwon starts down the hallway to his left with sure footsteps, arms raising to brace his hands around his gun as a cluster of Unification soldiers spill out into the hallway from around the corner. He picks off the first two with ease, the pop of the gunshot no longer a shock to his system like it was just a little over a year ago when he fired one for the first time. 

Jake comes up on his right, finishing off the last three of the group. They sweep the hallway together, finding the communications room at the end, just as they suspected; the identical layout of the facilities has served them well once again. The room has dark cement flooring and walls and high ceilings that match the rest of the main level, but computers and other pieces of technology that Jungwon can’t even begin to name are present as well, an entire array of blinking colors and beeping noises and flashing screens with live feeds of the subjects kept in the underground level. 

Peering through the sliver window in the door, Jungwon can tell the soldiers inside are flustered, scurrying about, obviously unaware of what the invasion procedure is. Because it’s never fucking happened before. These soldiers sit here day to day, staring at their screens and clicking their buttons and going through the motions of what they consider their duty like they’re not watching people suffer. No one has dared to defy them- at least not at a force they couldn’t suppress- before today, and now they fumble and trip over each other in moronic panic. 

Jungwon despises them, despises what they stand for, despises their appearances. That’s what he’s thinking about as he starts to shoot them down before the door even opens all the way, before their heads fully turn to register the threat that is upon them. 

Every single one of them looks the same- decked out in midnight black suits that cover every inch of their bodies, complete with a helmet pulled snugly over the head. It’s the literal embodiment of why they do what they do: they can’t survive without the suits. Because of what they’ve done in the past, they don’t have a future without the ultimate demise of those who are nothing like them, but everything they need. 

Jungwon thinks they can burn in fucking hell- those here in their suits and those miles and miles away in their glass Oases as well. He despises them, all of them, and he fires bullets until he runs out, tossing the gun to the floor with a clatter and drawing knives from his thigh straps as he takes on a soldier charging forward to challenge him. 

That’s all it feels like now- a challenge. Even less than one really, as the weight of his knives in hand is second nature to him. Guns are useful for longer ranges, but knives have always been Jungwon’s strong suit. He feels an innate sort of confidence- a beautiful security- in his ability to protect himself with the weapon. 

And Jungwon is ruthless. Smart. He knows where the tube that makes outside air breathable for Unification soldiers is located in their suit. He knows where the vulnerable sections of material are located in the neck, upper thigh, and rib areas. He knows these soldiers are accustomed to crushing the advances of hungry, dehydrated, weakened individuals, and that many of them are actually poor fighters. It’s something he uses to his advantage, disarming them before they can even touch him. 

Jungwon slashes his knife across the abdomen of one soldier and sinks the hilt into the neck of another. He raises his head when he sees movement in the corner of his eye. Jake is fighting a soldier near the doorway across the room, knocking them to the ground with his elbow. Another soldier, clearly in pain from injury and lying on their stomach on the floor a few feet behind him, aims a gun at Jake’s back. 

Jungwon straightens and throws without a second of hesitation. His aim rings true, blade burying itself in the side of the soldier’s neck. Their head slumps over and they go motionless as Jake wins back his gun from the clutches of the one he’s been fighting and finishes them off. 

The room stills as the gunshot dissipates, quiet again after all the scuffling. Jake looks over at him, chest heaving, hair in his eyes. 

“Alright?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon answers with a nod, giving him a once over as well. He appears to be just fine. Jungwon goes to retrieve the knife he’d thrown and wipes the blood off absently on his pants as he looks up to the screens. Some raiders are already downstairs, using keycards and other means of force to open the rooms and coax the patients outside. 

“Let’s get down there,” Jungwon says. Jake hums in agreement, bending down to swipe a gun off the floor. 

“Here,” he says as a heads up, tossing it in Jungwon’s direction. Jungwon catches it with a quick thanks and they go back out into the hallway, taking down the few straggler soldiers that appeared while the raiders went downstairs.  

The next ten minutes or so pass in a rush of movement and noise. He and Jake wind down the staircase to the underground level and then split off at the bottom to go separate ways- Jake to the left, Jungwon to the right. He and the other leaders all make it a point to not just stick by each other’s sides but instead spread out to most effectively guide everyone back to the compound. 

Jungwon helps groups of raiders destroy the card readers outside of each room so the doors can be pushed open manually until a woman hands him a keycard so she can focus on helping a teenage girl to her feet. Jungwon uses the card to unlock rooms after that, as it’s a lot faster and the raiders following after him can save their strength for helping the individuals inside. 

Killing the soldiers in the communications room eliminated some amount of threat- pertaining to a signal being sent out to other facilities in the area that could potentially send backup- but there’s, of course, no guarantee that that was not done before Jake and Jungwon made it there. Time is of the utmost importance, and Jungwon is painstakingly aware of it. 

Jungwon hurries down the last passage of rooms, relieved to see most have already been opened. Raiders hasten about around him, communicating with each other and starting to move towards getting everyone out of here in groups or pairs. At the very end, there’s one more room with a door that’s still sealed up tight. 

After running the keycard and shouldering the door open, Jungwon is met with the sight of a little boy, tears streaming down his cheeks. His hair is long and shaggy around the ears, grimy with unwash. The eyes peeking out from beneath his fringe are wide and terrified, unmoving from Jungwon’s form in the doorway. Despite the fact that Jungwon is not wearing a Unification suit, he still looks unreservedly wary of Jungwon’s presence. A wave of sympathy flushes through Jungwon’s system for this boy who should never have had to go through what he has. 

Knowing full well the boy is not going to come to him first, Jungwon pushes the metal door until it clicks, signaling it will remain propped open without him having to hold it. 

“It’s okay,” he starts slowly, gently. He snaps his knife back into its holding place on his thigh and slips the keycard into the front pocket of his pants so he can hold up empty palms. “It’s okay, I promise. We’re here to help. We’re not going to hurt you.”

The boy doesn’t move, but his bottom lip trembles and his glossy eyes scream that he wants nothing more than for Jungwon to be telling the truth. Jungwon takes his chances and moves closer with unhurried, smooth steps, desperately trying not to scare him more. He still flinches. 

Upon closer inspection, the boy’s hardly more than a child. Probably ten or eleven years old. He’s too skinny, no matter how old. Too small. Jungwon swallows the thick lump in his throat as he squats down a few paces away from the boy, hands still raised in the air where he can see them.

“My name’s Jungwon. Myself and all the people out there want to help you get somewhere safe. It’s my home, and it’ll be yours too, if you want. Okay?” 

The boy doesn’t respond right away, and the seconds ticking by are precious, but Jungwon allows the pause. He always does when it comes to reassuring kids as young as he is; they’ve been through too much at such an age, and trust won’t come easily to them. 

Eventually, though, the idea of safety- of any place away from here- is enough. The boy nods, eyes still filled to the brim with tears.

“Okay,” Jungwon exhales. They need to get moving, but he keeps his distance and doesn’t try to reach for him. “Can you stand on your own?”

Oftentimes, patients are too weak from the blood tests and abuse to move much on their own, but the boy just nods again, getting his feet under him and standing, albeit shakily. 

“Alright, good,” Jungwon encourages him, rising and backing up toward the doorway. “Just follow me.”

The hallway is still bustling with activity. As soon as Jungwon steps out of the room, he hears a call of his name and looks up to see Niki struggling to keep a tall, older man- practically hanging off of his arm in exhaustion- upright. He’s going to need help getting the man back to the compound. 

Making a decision on the spot, Jungwon signals for Niki to wait a moment and turns to face the young boy standing at the threshold of the room behind him. He’s gripping the edge of the doorway, and Jungwon wants nothing more than to carry him home, but Niki needs his help. When Jungwon crouches down to look him in the eye, the boy doesn’t look away. It’s a misplaced emotion perhaps, but Jungwon is so proud of him for digging up the courage it took to even get to his feet that he tries to smile a little. 

“You’re being very brave right now,” he says quietly. He then points behind them, at Niki and the older man. “You see that boy right there? That’s my friend, Niki, and he needs my help so we can get this man to safety too. Now, you see that group right there?” he continues, this time pointing ahead of them. “They’re my friends too, and they’re going to that home I told you about. We all are. So I need you to stick with them. They’ll look after you, and Niki and I will be right behind you, okay?”

The young boy looks back at him from eyeing the group, hesitation prominent in his body language. Jungwon aches to reach out and comfort him but he still refrains, recalling how badly he’d startled when Jungwon stepped closer to him in the room. 

“I swear you’re going to be alright,” he says, heavy with conviction. It’s not a promise he should make since it’s not a guarantee that he’ll make it back to the compound alive- it’s not a guarantee for any of them- but it’s all he can do to give him some initiative to take action. “They’re going to protect you and we’ll all be safe soon. Home soon.”

The boy takes a deep, shuddering breath, eyes still wet but determined now, and for a split second Jungwon sees a younger version of himself in him. Terrified, but having the strength to do what he must to survive. The version he was before he found Sunoo and Niki. Before he met any of them. Before he met Jay. His heart aches in his chest, and he doesn’t say anything else, knowing it’d come out strained or unintelligible. 

“Okay.” It’s the first time the boy’s spoken, and his voice is faint but final. He walks toward the group a little ways down the hallway and Jungwon swallows thickly, watching him go. 

“Taeyong!” he calls, spotting the leader’s head of hair amongst the group. Taeyong turns, finding him at breakneck speed, eyebrows lifting in question. “Look after him.” Jungwon gestures at the boy who’s reached them by now, and Taeyong nods affirmatively, turning his attention toward the child. 

Compelling himself to entrust the boy’s care to him, Jungwon rushes toward Niki immediately, who’s now lowered the man to the ground. He looks to be in his late forties-at least- and Jungwon can tell with a mere glance at his quivering shoulders and sunken eyes that he’s not going to be able to walk, hence Niki’s tactic to have him sit until Jungwon could help them. 

Niki’s already instructing the older man with low, hurried words to wrap his arms around their shoulders when Jungwon squats down on the opposite side of him. Though his grip is weak, the man manages to do so, and Jungwon knows they can work with that. He and Niki each sling an arm about his waist and hook their hands under his knees to lift him up. 

Though it takes a grunt of exertion out of both of them- the man’s taller than Niki, after all- he’s clearly not as heavy as he should be. It’s a vile, ghastly thing, that it’s expected by this point. Jungwon tries not to dwell on that as they wind around the dead soldiers’ bodies and groups of raiders through the passages of now-empty rooms. 

Jungwon throws a quick glance over his shoulder when they reach the stairs, searching for Jay, but he doesn’t see him. He must be helping out in one of the passages to the left. Jungwon turns his attention to his footing so they don’t go sprawling. 

They make it upstairs and out of the facility without any problems. Just as Jungwon figured it would, the temperature has steadily continued to drop. With the chilly air hitting them face on, the four mile walk will definitely be uncomfortable, but doable. Niki situated his extra jacket onto the man before they left the facility, and Jungwon has draped his extra over the man’s legs in hopes that it will lessen the sting of the spring wind until they can get him inside the warm compound. 

He and Niki walk as fast as possible, a bit hindered by the fact that Jungwon’s a head shorter than Niki and that makes their hold on the man a bit awkward. Said man groans in pain at each particularly rough jostle, and they keep apologizing. They’re trying their hardest to keep their footfalls consistent and light, but the rocky terrain blanketed in darkness and littered with tree roots makes it impossible not to stumble. 

“Just a little longer,” Jungwon promises under his breath, when it feels like they’ve been traveling through the night for a lifetime. He wasn’t lying, though. They’ve got about a mile left to go. Taeyong’s group is several meters ahead of them, moving faster than they are. Jungwon keeps an eye on the shadowed form of the little boy, but he seems to be keeping up well at Taeyong’s side. 

Jungwon’s heart pounds in his chest at the prospect of being so close to the compound. It always feels like this during the last stretch, so close to safety but not in the clear just yet. 

Twenty minutes or so later, they arrive at the hill. The hill, meaning the compound is so close. Jungwon hears Niki’s relieved exhale and nearly copies him himself. He tells the man they’re almost there instead. 

Getting up the steep incline is a damn near disaster. He and Niki walked from sunrise to sundown both yesterday and today while they were tracking, prepared for the raid early this morning in lieu of sleep, and have spent the last four miles of tonight’s journey under considerably more strenuousness than the first four. Needless to say, they’re tired. There’s a searing ache raging in Jungwon’s shoulders and arms, but he keeps pushing himself and they eventually make it up the hill. 

Around the cluster of trees and across the flattened plateau of land they go. The entrance door comes into view, and though the night is far from over, Jungwon allows himself a moment to be glad they’ve made it this far. 

Entering the compound and carrying the man through the halls is a blur of bright overhead lights and bustling noise and rushed activity. People run past them, going this way and that, enough to make Jungwon’s head spin. Finally, finally, they arrive at what they’ve long since deemed the med wing. The long room is in a state of mayhem, but of the organized sort- just as Sunoo’s regulations and expectations ensure it will be. Raid nights bring back sick and injured people by the dozens, but Sunoo and the helpers who work under him prepare themselves in order to remain calm in the midst of the madness. 

Still, a crack in Sunoo’s unwavering composure shows when he spots Jungwon and Niki lowering the man onto one of the empty beds lining the walls. His attention, of course, is quickly reclaimed by his duty, but Jungwon wasn’t surprised to see the momentary flush of raw, utter relief on the older’s face at their return. 

“I’ll settle him in. You go,” Niki urges Jungwon as he helps the man lay down. Jungwon’s hands waver at the bedside. 

“Sure?” he asks, hesitant to leave. Niki shoots him a perceptive- undeniably tender- look, one that Jungwon rarely gets from him, but knows by now means I’m okay on my own, I promise. Jungwon is so often reminded these days that Niki’s not the kid he met seven years ago anymore. He’s been capable of handling things alone for a long while now; Jungwon’s just reluctant to ease up on the protectiveness he feels over his youngest friend. 

“Sure,” Niki confirms, giving Jungwon’s arm a prompting squeeze. “Help the others get in safely.” 

That’s all the coercion Jungwon needs. He gives a quick nod, shakes out his shoulders, and jogs back into the hallway. He ignores the fatigue in his legs and picks up his pace as he winds through the compound to the front entrance. The flow of people coming in is much more steady now. Jungwon passes through the field just outside the compound and goes nearer to the hill, murmuring words of encouragement to scared, exhausted newcomers and pointing towards the entrance of the compound. 

Mark arrives several minutes later. He’s carrying a little girl, and even in the darkness, from a significant distance away, Jungwon can see the lines of distress etched into his features. As Mark draws closer, Jungwon can’t curb the response that escapes him. 

“Oh my god,” he chokes out, horrified. The child, she’s… she can’t be more than three years old. Maybe two. Her arms are folded between herself and Mark’s chest like she didn’t even have the strength to wrap them around his neck and could only collapse against him. Jungwon’s eyes start to sting. 

Mark stops in front of him and Jungwon catches sight of her drooping eyelids. There’s a pang of something bittersweet in him when he realizes she may trust Mark to some degree, to nearly be falling asleep in a stranger’s arms. Maybe it’s hope that she’s found comfort in him, that she’ll be able to grow up and have a home in the compound. Maybe it’s fury, as this shouldn’t have happened to her at all. 

“God,” Jungwon repeats. She’s by far the youngest they’ve ever saved. Seeing her- seeing all of them- makes it feel like the first time he’s understanding the devastating impact of the testings for the first time all over again. 

Mark seems similarly affected by her presence, but he doesn’t address her when he speaks. The hour walk back was likely far more time than he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, and Jungwon’s sure he just wants to get her inside where it’s safe and warm. 

“Heeseung’s got a group a ways back,” Mark tells him, voice uncharacteristically thick, heavy laden with emotion. “They’ll need help.”

Mark adjusts his hold on the tiny girl, burying her closer to himself under the layering of his extra coat. Jungwon lays a hand on his elbow but doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to be said. 

Mark sets off toward the compound and Jungwon hurries down the hill. He spots Heeseung’s group not too long after he starts jogging again. Jake is with them, which Jungwon is relieved to see. Jay is not. A glance in the distance shows that there are still lots of people coming this way, though, so Jungwon focuses back on the situation at hand as he reaches the group. 

A woman clad in the Unification-issued gray patient clothing is clearly struggling on the outskirts, hair sticking to her glistening forehead despite the chilly temperature, breathing ragged and wheezing. Jungwon immediately ducks under her arm to support her, noticing the boy right behind her as he does so. 

The young man’s features are taut with tension, pupils blown wide as they flick wildly from the present surroundings to behind them at an unsettling pace. Even still, he’s helping the girl next to him walk with an arm looped through hers. Jungwon is moved by this display since the boy probably doesn’t know her but is helping her along anyway, all while being incredibly anxious. 

“Hey,” Jungwon says over his shoulder. The boy’s eyes snap to his and lock in, his lips parted in trepidation. He doesn’t look much older than Jungwon himself. “Hang on for just a little longer. We’re almost there.”

The boy nods after a moment, dark hair sweeping across his forehead into his eyes, and Jungwon faces forward to concentrate on helping the woman under his arm up the hill.

Time blurs again, getting the group back to the compound, through the winding halls, and properly settled in the med wing. If it was busy before, it’s chaos now. The free beds are dwindling, but not everyone needs to lay down. Some with more strength lean against the walls, watching an environment that is entirely new to them with glazed eyes. Some lower to sit on the floor. Regardless of where they end up, raiders meet them where they’re at to get them whatever they need. 

In a while, once everything’s settled and slowed down a bit, Taeyong will address those they’ve saved tonight. He’ll explain where their people came from and what they stand for. He’ll explain that the compound is hidden and undetected by Unification and that they’re safe here. That this can be their home. 

Those who are cleared medically will then be taken to an empty room. A room they can have ownership over, a room they can call theirs. They’ll be encouraged to explore, and ask questions. They’ll be granted access to food in the eatery and bathrooms equipped with toilets and running water and showers- all privileges that were unheard of- for all of them- before they found the compound. 

Jungwon takes great joy in watching newcomers not only realize that they have the space to exist here, but also that they are entitled to discovering how they want to live here- not merely survive. He looks forward to it, but for now, busies himself with fetching blankets, packaged food, cups of water, bandages, and more for people in need. 

Sunoo requests clean towels and fresh bedsheets, so Jungwon takes a trip to the storeroom to retrieve them. When he gets back to the med wing and hands off the armful of linens, he stops for a moment to look around. 

Heeseung is helping someone sit up against the pillows in their bed. Mark is standing against the wall, still holding the little girl close to his chest. She’s fast asleep now. Niki is near Sunoo’s side, available to grab whatever the older needs while treating people’s wounds at a moment’s notice. Taeyong is kneeled down in front of the little boy Jungwon sent his way before they left the facility, talking to him quietly. Jake is spreading a blanket across the lap of an older woman with wispy hair. The wing is hectic and full, and Jungwon’s eyes keep flitting about, moving from bed to bed, wall to wall, person to person, but-

Jungwon moves. He’s moving before he consciously decides to do so, before his brain catches up with his actions. Before an impossible thought plants its seed in his mind. 

He darts out into the hallway. Runs. Makes it to the front entrance, narrowly avoiding crashing into several people on the way. He flies up the stairs and through the still-open main door, out into the night air. Squinting across the field turns out to be pointless. 

No one’s coming. 

The world shifts. Jungwon’s feet falter. 

No, he thinks. No. You missed him. You just missed him. He’s inside, you just missed him. 

Check again. 

Jungwon turns on his heel and bolts, boots thundering on the metal staircase as he descends underground once again and immediately takes off running to the left, where he came from. Jay wouldn’t have gone back to their room without checking in first- without checking on Jungwon first- so veering right towards the lodging wing wasn’t even an option. 

He checks the eatery. The kitchens. The communal bathroom. The storeroom. The hallways. Every weird turn Jay could’ve taken. 

Jungwon flies back into the med wing breathless, desperate, heart hammering in his ears, head whipping side to side, searching- 

Nothing. Nothing, nothing- 

That threatening, impossible thought takes root. 

No. He’s here. He’s got to be here. 

He’s surely just leaning down over someone’s bedside, helping them adjust. He’s just crouched down in front of a scared individual consoling them, or sitting next to someone against the wall in quiet company. Because that’s the kind of man Jay is: sure and selfless and reliable and here. 

But Jungwon reaches the end of the room, faced with a blank wall, and whirls around as the roots twist deeper, sharper. They prick at the corners of his mind. Ivy grows into his vision, blinding him for a terrifying, fractured moment. He forces himself through a splintered inhale so the lights blink back into focus. He stumbles to the nearest familiar person. Grabs hold of their arm. 

Heeseung turns around, face blanching when his eyes rove over whatever Jungwon’s own features are doing. Jungwon doesn’t have any control over them. 

“What’s wrong?” Heeseung breathes. He hardly ever reaches out first but he does now, fingers coming up to wrap around Jungwon’s bicep. Jungwon hadn’t realized it, but he’s shaking. Someone comes up by his side, concern radiating off of them in waves. Their face swims into view. Jake. 

“Jungwon-” Heeseung’s voice is urgent. He’s shaking Jungwon’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Jay,” Jungwon rasps. It doesn’t sound like him. “Jay’s not here.” 

There’s a suspended moment in which Jungwon can’t breathe, in which he can’t force himself to look away from his friends as their expressions twist into identical displays of alarm. In the next, he’s pushing through them. He thinks he hears Jake say, “Let’s go.” He thinks Heeseung may have been planning to drag him along if he hadn’t been able to move. 

His body, however, takes over. He sprints through halls that have never been this long, gulping down air that has never felt this much like fire. It licks against the inside of his ribs, scorches his airway, expands across every inch of his skin. 

The outside air should feel different from the compound when he reaches it, but it doesn’t. 

His vision should have cleared by now, but it hasn’t.

The first mile passes too slowly. Jungwon’s racing back the way they traveled tonight- back to the facility. Distantly, he notes his hands are still shaking, even though he’s got them clenched into fists, arms pumping wildly at his sides as he runs. His mind is a cacophony of noise, insides melting under the assault of the flames. 

Jay is smart, but what if? He’s strong, but what if? He’s steady and reliable and he’s not reckless unless he needs to be, but what if-?

No. His thoughts intertwine and overlap and battle for the forefront, but this is what he must be resolute about. He’s trying to persuade some terrified person that it’s safe to come with him. He got caught up helping someone who’s hurt. He’s leading a group of people who are failing to move quickly. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay. 

Jay is clever. He’s ridiculously strong, physically and mentally. He’s sure and steady and okay. 

Jungwon wills it to be true as the trees smudge into one dark green canvas overhead. He wills himself to believe it. 

He reaches the second mile. He’s pushing himself so hard that Heeseung and Jake are having trouble keeping up with him. It’s been too long. There’s still no sign of Jay, or of anything amiss at all, and everything in Jungwon’s body and mind is a contradiction. He’s numb with panic, but his lungs ache for breath and his legs plead with him to stop. His mind is both horribly muddled and terrifyingly blank. 

He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay. Chanting it to himself is a necessity. He can’t afford to consider anything else. 

He’s thinking about spotting Jay any second. He’s thinking about whether he's going to slap him in the chest for being careless with the time or jump straight into his arms in a crushing hug. 

He’s thinking about going back to the compound with him, ushering him into their bathroom to shower first, laying down in bed beside him. 

He’s thinking about how this may be enough to push himself to take the leap past all the unspoken doubts and hesitancies that have caused him not to pursue more than friendship (it’s already more than that, he knows it’s already more than that) with Jay. When he gets Jay back, he’ll remember this feeling. This fear. He’ll never forget it. He’ll let it impel him to confess- to do something. Anything. 

When he gets him back.

He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay.  

There’s a hill ahead. The adrenaline rushing through his veins- instigated by dread, prolonged by panic- drives him up it despite all the odds of exhaustion working against him. 

He’s okay. One foot after the other. 

He’s okay. Jungwon’s breath will return to him. His heart will settle. His limbs will no longer be sore. These are all temporary things, all things that don’t matter and won’t matter until Jungwon finds him. 

He’s okay. The forest floor levels out at the top of the hill. The sun has just begun to peek above the horizon. 

He’s- 

The light is dim, but it’s enough. Jungwon comes to a halt, arms swinging heavily at his sides, chest heaving. He sees it before he registers what it is. He sees it before Heeseung and Jake even catch up to him. 

A splash of blue amongst the dirt. 

There’s blood on the forest floor. Jungwon falls to his knees amongst it, hands scraping through it. His mouth is moving. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. His breath gets lodged in his throat and he chokes on it, wrestling with his own body for air as he crawls forward. 

His fingers wrap around the knife where it’s lying by itself in the dirt, hilt painted a deep blue, adorned with swirled designs of white along the edges. The cry that’s been building up within him rips out of his throat when his heartbeat starts pounding in his fingers from how tightly he grips the handle. He looks up through the haze of tears to see nothing but the sun rising over an empty forest. 

It’s an all-encompassing thing: the way Jungwon shatters. Before, the world tilted. Now, it closes in on him completely. He’s gripped by a terror he has never known. Not like this. 

He’s gone. 

Chapter Text

Sharp gusts of wind bite mercilessly at Jungwon’s skin but he welcomes the sting. 

The compound door closes behind him with a hollow clang, without him even having to turn and signal the guards to do it. They know how this goes as well as Jungwon does. They just do it now, a routine that hasn’t changed for so long. It won’t, either. Not until… 

Jungwon walks. It’s terribly cold outside, late fall merging with the chill before the break of dawn. That’s the bit he welcomes, though- the cold. He can feel it, at least for the first mile or so. After that, it blurs too, melding seamlessly into the rest of the numbness. Becoming a part of it. 

Jungwon’s pace is slow, boots dragging over dry dirt and twisted tree roots. Snow hasn’t fallen yet this season, but it will soon. The weather is the most substantial indicator, wickedly frigid during most points of the day except noon. It still only warms up a little if there are clear skies. Regardless of when the snow finally comes, Jungwon dreads it. Dreads it. 

He bypasses the first mile, and sure enough, it takes intentional focus for him to recognize the wind hitting his cheeks and neck, the stiffness of his hands. He walks slowly, but slower still when he approaches the second mile. The hill comes into view. On cue, Jungwon’s chest tightens. Shivers crawl up his spine, not from the cold, but from that morning. 

Like every day before this one, Jungwon forces himself to walk up the incline. He looks at the forest floor, despite the darkness. He remembers when it was painted red, though rain has long since washed it away. 

Jungwon spent more time awake in the weeks after Jay went missing than he ever had before in his life. Most of that time he was in the forest. With burning eyes. Desperate steps. He couldn’t wrap his head around it- that Jay was gone. Days passed and he couldn’t process it, much less accept it. He searched the miles around the compound, then around the facility they’d attacked that night with an unyielding ferocity no one could keep up with. He didn’t rest, delusional in his fatigue-plagued mind. As he did while he was tearing through the compound looking for Jay that night, telling himself that Jay was there, he just hadn’t found him yet, Jungwon lied to himself. 

Jay had obviously gotten hurt- the blood on the ground, his knife left behind was evidence of that- but he’d gotten away. He was just holed up somewhere, hiding from the soldiers that attempted to take him. Jungwon searched and searched and searched. He walked until his body physically couldn’t support his aspirations anymore, lacking both sleep and nutrition. He yelled for Jay until his voice was hoarse, until whoever was accompanying him at the time- usually Heeseung, Jake, or Niki- begged him to stop in fear of attracting unwanted company. 

That was the most agonizing part of it. They knew Jay wasn’t simply lost in the forest, and Jungwon did too. Still, he searched, and still, they stuck by his side. There was not a moment that he was outside alone during that time, and Jungwon couldn’t appreciate it then as he’s able to now. He was despairingly distraught, before the numbness. He may have driven himself irreparably mad without them there reminding him he needed to eat if he wanted to walk as much as he did, to guide him back to the compound to sleep for a few hours before going out again. 

A month passed after Jay’s disappearance, and Jungwon had to come to terms with the fact that Jay had been captured by Unification. With that reality came another: Jay was suffering. Jungwon knew it. He nearly thought he could feel it sometimes, but he didn’t share that with anyone else. He didn’t think he’d be able to explain it, or that it’d make any sense at all. 

Unification had Jay, and they would hurt him. They would bleed him dry until there was nothing left of him and they’d already started. The pressure that had always been there to discover new facilities and put raids in motion increased infinitely. It’d always been personal, but now it was about Jay. Jungwon lost himself, overtime. 

Nothing mattered except tracking, discovering, raiding. Every facility they found would instill hope within him, only for it to be crushed by the night’s end. They found one, two, four, six facilities, but Jay was still missing. Jay is still missing. Jungwon isn’t sure how he still hasn’t grown accustomed to feeling hollow. 

He puts in a conscious effort to try and save face before the people. They were so scared; they still are. Casualties during raids are not a rare occurrence- a price they’re all aware of and willing to pay- but no one had ever been taken before Jay. The amount of volunteers desiring to be trained to join the fight dropped detrimentally, especially amongst those who’d been saved from a facility. The possibility that they’d have to go through everything they’d escaped from again… for many, it was too great a risk. Jungwon couldn’t fault anyone for that, no matter how much truth is behind more people equaling more power. 

Squinting, Jungwon looks up from the forest floor. The sun is just starting to rise, tiny slivers of orange filtering through the spaces between trees. Jungwon moves without much thought, hands and feet slipping into familiar holdings of a certain, familiar tree. The first time he’d climbed it, a month after Jay went missing, he’d been trying to get a better view of the surrounding forest. It was a failed attempt, of course. All he could see at the top were more trees in all directions. He’d retreated down to one of the thicker, strong limbs and sat there with his back against the trunk, several feet off the ground. 

And maybe that’s when the numbness set it. But it was certainly when Jungwon understood Jay wouldn’t be found anywhere outside of a facility’s walls. And maybe it’s messed up. That he keeps coming back here, to the exact spot Jay was taken. But he can’t stop; he hasn’t stopped for months. Every morning he comes back. Every morning he climbs this tree and sits on this branch and looks at the spot where the red used to be. Where Jay used to be. 

Rough bark is digging into his back, prodding at his spine, but Jungwon doesn’t readjust because he can feel it through the outer layering of his jacket. It’s sharp, part of the present. The other pain never goes away, which he thinks attributes to the numbness, but this he can feel right now, and right now only. When he lets up and dismounts from the branch, back onto solid ground, the uncomfortable jabbing will fade away into nothingness too, so right now he’ll sit and feel it.

A sudden gust of wind blows through the bare trees, so piercing it makes Jungwon’s breath hitch. It’s a horrendous, palpable reminder that with the cold comes winter, and Jungwon is dreading it. 

He buries his hands in his jacket pockets, frozen fingers curling around the glove he left in each. He doesn’t wear them anymore.

He can’t. 

“Your hands cold?” 

Jungwon jumps at the voice behind him, caught in the act of blowing warmth onto his cupped hands after insisting he doesn’t want gloves all day. He drops his arms back down to his sides, snaking his fists into his jacket pockets as he glances over at his shoulder at Jay. 

“They’re fine,” he replies, because he’s nothing if not a little stubborn in response to this particular tone of Jay’s voice.  

Jungwon had called a break just a few minutes earlier when he saw Niki struggling to fish through his bag for water as they trekked through the snow. They’d already been walking since sunrise, and it’s day four of this tracking expedition with no leads on a facility yet. It’s discouraging and exhausting, of course, but not all that unexpected. 

The boys spread out a bit to rest, sitting down on fairly dry rock faces instead of the wet snow and digging through their packs to draw out bits of food and drink. Jungwon went ahead a little bit, finding that one of the bends on the tree-littered hill led to a precipice overlooking the stretch of the icy forest hundreds of feet below. It’s beautiful, in a daunting sort of way, even though Jungwon’s seen it many times before. 

He’s clearly been standing here longer than he realized, losing track of time, since Jay’s sudden appearance took him by surprise. He looks back at the view fast enough after his nonchalant response that he doesn’t see Jay’s amused grin. He hears it though, in the soft chuckle the older lets out; his smile has always shaped the sound of his laughter. 

Jungwon hears Jay approaching, slowly, but he still doesn’t turn around to face him fully. Usually, he considers himself to be an extremely composed person. In part, it’s likely due to the fact that he had to grow up so fast- his circumstances have always put him in a position where he had to keep his wits about him to survive. 

With Jay, though, Jungwon has never been good at calming the race of his heart, or meeting the full force of the older’s heavy stare, or acting like his touch doesn’t render him absolutely useless with the mind-blanking, white-hot desire to have more. 

Jay slips his hand into the crook of Jungwon’s elbow, guiding him to turn sideways. Facing him. Jungwon drinks in the sight of him, his easy smile and warm eyes. Jungwon never tires of just… looking. 

“Always so stubborn,” Jay sighs, and it’s- teasing and fond and quiet and exasperated and lovely. All at once. Jungwon doesn’t understand how he does that, wrapping it all into one awful, tantalizing, addicting thing. Why he does it, if he’s even aware that he does.  

Jay pulls something out of his pocket then. A set of black gloves. Jungwon looks at them. Looks back at Jay. Doesn’t say a word. Jay laughs at his reaction, or lack thereof. 

Then, he steps closer. 

Their chests are nearly touching. The group is out of sight, around the corner. Jungwon and Jay are alone and the world is almost entirely silent and still except for the brush of wind against their cheeks and out of the entire expanse of space surrounding them, Jay chooses to stand here . Absolutely, unapologetically in Jungwon’s space. Jungwon is no longer shocked by how badly he wants him to be there, always. How badly he wants him to stay there.  

These moments… Jungwon hates to look away first. It’s getting more difficult now, though. Gingerly, Jay loops his fingers around Jungwon’s wrist. He doesn’t break eye contact until he’s holding Jungwon’s hand up in the air between them, until Jungwon’s breath has caught in his throat. 

Jay pulls a glove over Jungwon’s fingers, touch unbearably gentle. He’s focused on his task, moving to do the same with Jungwon’s other hand, and Jungwon feels the tension draining from his limbs as he watches Jay’s lower lip jut out in concentration. 

He’s already smiling a little when Jay finishes up with a proud grin, and doesn’t actually take a closer look at the gloves until then. When he does, a bout of laughter sputters out of him so suddenly that it turns into a hacking cough. 

“What?!” Jay exclaims. 

Jungwon tries to sober up at the look on his face, trying even harder to swallow his amusement at the finger cut-outs of the gloves. “Where, uh-” he stops, clears his throat, starts again- “where’d the rest of ‘em go?” 

Jay is obviously distressed by his reaction. 

“You always complain about not being able to do shit properly with your fingers covered! So- this fixes that and your hands will be warm!” 

It’s the sweetest, most reasonable solution to a personal preference Jungwon has always dealt with by simply not wearing gloves, even during the harshest winter months. And Jay still went out of his way to do it for him. 

Jungwon pokes harmless fun at his “free fingers” for the remainder of the tracking expedition, but he doesn’t take the gloves off once. And he thanks Jay the night they return to the compound, a murmur of genuine gratitude for his thoughtfulness. 

And Jay puts them on for him before the next outing as well. 

And the next. 

And the next. 

And the

Jungwon blinks. The awakening world comes back into focus. Tree bark is digging into his back. His right ankle aches from where he’d hooked it over the left one. The gloves in his pockets rub irritably against the dry skin of his hands. 

He thinks about leaving the damn things behind when he goes out. He thinks about hiding them away in the drawer where the rest of Jay’s knives are in their room. He wonders if separating himself from the constant reminder- of who gave them to him, of who always drew them over his hands, of who is no longer here to make sure he’s staying warm- would help, but he only ever considers it, uselessly, for a moment. 

Finding peace is not an option for him. 

Jungwon behaved in a crazed state of denial those first weeks after Jay’s disappearance because it was the only way he could cope. He tore through the forest searching for signs he believed were there, just hiding from him. He drove himself into the ground in panicked exhaustion. He did it all for the cause, all because he had to find Jay. Bring him home. Make him safe. 

But the budding flowers and crisp morning air of spring faded to the full trees and stifling heat of summer, and Jungwon did not find him. The sweat that used to run down his spine and dot his forehead during tracking expeditions or raids faded into goosebumps accompanied with the chilly breeze and dry leaves of fall, and Jungwon did not find him. Now, the mellow temperatures have begun the gradual plunge to freezing weather and tree limbs are becoming increasingly bare, and Jungwon hasn’t found Jay. 

Winter is coming and Jungwon dreads it, yet another reminder of Jay’s glaring absence. Another reminder that eight months have passed, and Jungwon has made no progress. Another reminder that the world is about to move on and transition into the next season, and he’s still failed to find him, to bring him home, to make him safe. Another reminder of how much pain Jay’s in with each passing second, if he’s even still-

Jungwon’s breath rushes out of him in a shudder. 

The sun has risen in its full glory. Jungwon remembers thinking the sight was beautiful in the past, but he can’t pick out the parts he’s supposed to appreciate now. 

Somewhere buried in his subconscious, he’s aware that he’s been out here longer than he ever is. His friends will be worried. They’ll hover for the next few days. Their eyes on him will feel even heavier than they already do. 

But he sits, pinching the gloves between his fingertips, and he dreads. 

»

Jungwon reaches the top of the last hill on the way back to the compound and startles- Heeseung is standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, dark eyes trained intently on him. 

With his heart re-settling after the sudden skip in his pulse, Jungwon takes a breath. He’s more out of it today than he originally thought. He can’t quite grasp onto his surroundings, having more trouble than usual tuning into the crunch of the brittle leaves beneath his feet or the birds chirping overhead. It’s distinctly off-putting. 

The sun is well on its way to making its gradual ascent in the sky, confirming that Jungwon is absolutely back late. Perhaps that’s why Heeseung’s here, his stance and facial expression deliberately crafted around calm concern instead of frustration or downright anger. Jungwon wonders how long Heeseung’s been waiting. He wonders what he saw on Jungwon’s face as he was approaching, as it’s clear he spotted Jungwon long before Jungwon saw him. He wonders what he’s going to say for a while- probably something along the lines of “You’re late” or “You scared us”- but doesn’t have to for long. 

“You okay?” Heeseung asks steadily. 

It’s a loaded question, and it’s not fair. They both know it. 

Of course not. Of course not. 

“Sorry if I worried you all,” Jungwon answers instead. His voice is rough, throat scratchy around the words. He realizes he hasn’t spoken since shutting himself in his room last night after dinner. 

He says it because he is sorry, if worry was indeed the emotion he stirred within his friends today. It likely was. Jay went missing in the forest. Jungwon insists on going out alone every morning, and he was late coming back today, which he’s sure to never let happen (time is too precious; every second he wastes on his own despair during the day are seconds he could be searching for Jay).

He says it because he doesn’t want to worry them. More than they already will, at least. They’re distressed about Jay, and he won’t pile his own burdens on them too. It’d be impossible, of course, to completely avoid their watchful eyes and careful hands, especially when he can feel the way his features have stiffened with hopelessness over these past months, but he still wants to try. Amidst all the numbness, he can still find it in himself to want to try, for them. 

“We were worried,” Heeseung confirms, but his voice is soft. He clearly doesn’t say it to make Jungwon feel bad, but instead to reassure him. As if to convey, We noticed. We noticed that you weren’t here. And we’ll keep coming for you. We’ll keep trying to help you. 

Jungwon doesn’t think he can be helped. Not until…

Heeseung leads the way back to the compound, saying something about a meeting. Jungwon only catches the tail end of the sentence but he doesn’t ask for clarification, just follows. 

They pass a lot of people in the hallways. Jungwon’s usually back before most have even woken up, let alone left their rooms, so he knows the concern regarding his whereabouts will be racked up a couple notches due to that alone. If he cared more, he would beat himself up for being so inattentive to the time. 

Sure enough, when he enters the ring behind Heeseung, he sees their friends standing around the center table, craning their necks around the older’s form to spot Jungwon. Jungwon can only glance at the relief in Sunoo’s expression (laced with hurt?) and the poorly veiled worry in Niki’s (definitely laced with disappointment) for a moment. He averts his eyes and stands across the table from them, next to Jake. He can feel the older boy’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t make an effort to say anything to Jungwon, or touch him. Distantly, Jungwon appreciates that. 

Taeyong starts talking about their decreasing supplies and how they need to set some aside specifically for the next tracking expedition. Jungwon’s mind wanders, as do his eyes. Mark is near Taeyong’s side, arms crossed over his chest. His expression is serious, even though his general aura has softened over these last few months. That part of him is unrecognizable right now, in the face of the reality that they will need to leave again. Soon. 

Tracking expeditions and raids have always been difficult for Mark- the trips due to parting from Taeyong, who stays behind to lead their people at the compound, and the raids because Taeyong goes too, and Mark is only human. Their leader is a master of duality, killing ruthlessly and lending a warm hand to help those in need in the next moment, but just because he’s the best of them doesn’t make him any safer than anyone else. 

These days, leaving is even harder for Mark than before, and the little girl sitting on the floor a few paces behind him with her fabric doll plays the largest part in that. 

When they first took Sujin in, it was rough. She would get overwhelmed easily, by sights and sounds and too many people. The only person who consistently was able to calm her was Mark, and he was more than willing to care for her. She still has bad nights, according to Taeyong’s occasional updates, but it’s getting better. They figured she was about three years old around the time she was saved, and nearing four now, mainly because ever since she became comfortable with them she’s been talking. Babbling about this and that and asking all the questions in the world. 

Jungwon’s heart aches everytime she asks about her mother. She wants to know where she is, and when she’ll see her again. She asks often, and it’s been hard for all of them to deliver the most vague bits of truth they possibly can. They’re being mindful of what they say to her and how they say it, as she’s far too young to process that her mother is probably no longer alive. 

Despite the hardships and heartache, her positive influence in their group has been evident. She is a precious presence amongst them- a handful of people who have too many weighty responsibilities placed on their shoulders. Even Jungwon, in the midst of the blurry hell these past eight months have been, has learned to love her. For Mark, that feeling must ring true for him ten times over. And it’s so difficult for him to leave her behind. 

Standing next to Mark are Sunoo and Niki, who are, thankfully, no longer staring at Jungwon with those expressions that make him want to melt off the face of the planet. It makes him sick, thinking about how things used to be. He used to be the strong one. The one they could depend on. Now he’s a walking shell of the person he was, and he doesn’t know how to get back to him without Jay by his side. Maybe that makes him pathetic. Maybe it’s an indication that he’s too dependent on Jay, since he can’t be himself without him. 

Whatever it is, he doesn’t care. He’s not the same. 

He’s weaker now, in a twisted sort of way. His determination has hardened to the likeness of stone, but his soul quivers under the weight of life like this, and two of his best friends- the two he met when they were merely kids, the two he’s been fiercely protecting since the moment they decided to stick together- have to watch him fall apart.

Jake shifts beside Jungwon, their elbows brushing. The contact lingers for a moment, effectively pulling Jungwon from his muddled thoughts, like Jake can tell he’s struggling to pay attention. He’s been the gentlest form of support in Jay’s absence. 

He seems to have a ridiculous sense of what Jungwon needs, even when Jungwon himself doesn’t know; he’ll speak up and tell the others to stop their attempts at getting him to rest and eat and take care of himself more when Jungwon can’t bear to hear it. He’ll tap his fingers against Jungwon’s knee and guide him back to the present. His hands are never heavy or imposing, just there. He backs off when Jungwon needs space and swoops in when Jungwon is having trouble grounding himself. 

Heeseung’s reaching out to him has been similar in that sense. He rarely tries to start up conversation or urge him to change his ways when they’re together. Instead, he is a quiet presence, blanketing the space they share in an air of unspoken support. Often, he’s the first of them all Jungwon sees when he returns to the compound in the mornings, whether it be in the entryway or the eating hall or the ring. He makes it a point to look Jungwon in the eye and take it slow around him, exactly like the day they met. Jungwon knows Heeseung has a soft spot for him, and he hates the thought of exploiting that by being careless with himself, even if it’s not his intention to hurt the older at all. 

And then there’s Sunghoon, standing on Heeseung’s other side. He and Jungwon have formed an unlikely bond over the past couple months. Jungwon wouldn’t quite venture to call them friends yet- building relationships is not a very viable feat for him right now- but there is certainly an unspoken sort of understanding between them. 

Shortly after Sunghoon was rescued by the raiders, Jungwon learned his name and properly matched it to the boy he met the night Jay went missing, the boy he’d reassured they were almost to safety while he was helping a girl walking beside him along. Sunghoon was one of the lucky ones; he had a quick recovery. He regained his strength and passed Sunoo’s vital checks at a steady pace, the most scathing injury being a nasty scab of a wound right above his eye. Sunoo suspected that it would scar, and sure enough, it’s created a slit in his eyebrow by now. 

Following the speedy return of his health, Sunghoon showed an admirable eagerness to get involved and learn how he could help. It’s never been expected for those who are saved to offer themselves up for the cause, but Sunghon did not shy away. 

Heeseung taught him how to handle a gun and other various weapons, and he adjusted to a new way of life with ease. He insisted he be placed wherever he was needed and was immersed in their tracking team overtime. In fact, he’s excelled so much recently that he’s now included in their leader meetings. 

He’s never avoided danger- not in the beginning, not now- and perhaps that’s why Jungwon is somewhat comforted knowing he’s here, helping them. Despite all the shit Sunghoon went through in that facility, he’s here with his head held high. 

And though Sunghoon’s never met Jay, he’s surely heard plenty about him. At this point, he absolutely has to have gathered how much he means to Jungwon. Knowing that Sunghoon’s been through what Jay is suffering now- it hurts like hell. But there’s also a hint of more, the tiniest sliver of silver in the lining of it all. Because everyday, Sunghoon is here, present and involved and alive. 

Still- it’s not the same as hope, no matter how badly Jungwon wants it to be. 

Sunghoon glances over, meeting his eyes. Jungwon looks away. 

»

Jungwon gets out of bed when he feels the need to peel out of his skin. The silence in the small room is too loud, absent of certain rhythmic, scraping snores. The bed is too empty, absent of certain weight, certain warmth. It’s disturbing. Jungwon can’t handle it- hasn’t been able to handle it. 

He wasn’t ever foolish enough to believe this would get easier, but he rarely sleeps through the night, if at all. It’s taking a toll on him. Getting up, moving, doing something with his restless limbs and exhausted mind is still better than tossing and turning under his (their) sheets, tormented by an itch that he can’t relieve. 

Jacketless, shoeless, Jungwon slips from the room. He starts walking. When his brain clicks back into his head, he’s in the ring, standing before the wide map sprawled out across the center table. He’s not surprised, as this is another part of his fucked up routine. 

Every night, sleep evades him. He walks. He comes here, glaring blankly at the map like its secrets are merely hiding from him, like they’ll pop out and reveal themselves if only he looks long enough. He goes back to the room and tries to shut his eyes until it’s acceptable for him to leave the compound. He goes outside. He walks to the tree. He sits until the sun rises, then goes back to meet the tracking team. They scour the forest for hours on end, sometimes days at a time, depending on if they plan an expedition or not. He returns to the compound when the others drag him back. He tries to force some food down for their sake. He declines their offers of company and goes back to the room for the night. Repeats. 

Tonight he falls right into his pattern, staring unseeingly at the map of land surrounding the compound. Sketches of rolling hills and peaks of mountains. Miles upon miles that stretch beyond their tiny placemark. 

The map mostly depicts the forest, at least all that they’ve taken note of upon discovery thus far. On the left side, right before the end of the paper meets the end of the table, there’s a small illustration of the abandoned city beyond the mountains.

The original name of that city from hundreds of lifetimes ago has been lost to time; the metal road signs outside the area that would’ve had it printed have long since eroded away, but the city’s history truly doesn’t matter anymore anyway. It’s not their reality. Jungwon has only heard stories of the old world in which cities in their prime existed- stories passed on to him by his mother that were first passed on to her. 

Though the contents of the stories were far from comforting, Jungwon holds the memories of his mom telling him about them dear. He learned everything he knows about the past and the present from her when he was young. Wherever they were, curled up in the woods or taking shelter under whatever they could find, she would talk and he would listen. 

Usually, she’d start at the beginning. The beginning neither of them were there for, hundreds of years ago when the world as it used to be changed irreversibly. Maybe it happened slowly, or maybe it snowballed all at once- details of specific dates and time periods have been lost too- but disaster struck and humanity was forced to adjust. 

Hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, global warming, drought, famine- those, and countless other disasters swept across the planet, flattening nations to dust and taking lives by the millions. Economies crashed. Money lost its meaning but greed ran rampant otherwise. Robberies and break ins escalated to such drastic measures that beatings and murders in the street for the mere clothes off of one’s back weren’t unheard of. There was no authority to stop those who resorted to violence. Those who committed it went without consequence. Panic and fear drove people to flee from what was once their homes in search of some sense of security. 

That’s how it began, supposedly. The start of the divide. But truly, the divide between what was generalized as the rich and the poor had already been established long before the nations failed. 

Even before what was deemed “The End” of the old world, the signs were clear that it was going to head that way. Only those who had resources and money available to them were able to do something about it. These privileged individuals flocked to one other and clustered up in groups, sticking together like a deadly sort of glue. Deadly, not because of what they were building, per say, but because of their attitudes toward that rest of the world’s population, toward everyone who wasn’t as advantaged as them. 

The details of how they managed to orchestrate their larger than life project are obscure, but those pieces of information don’t really matter either. The gist of it is that the monstrosities those people created all that time ago are still standing today:

Oases. 

The first Oasis had been on the news, apparently, when its construction was put in the works. Before everything crumbled and burned. The streets glimmered and gleamed. The houses were grand, untouchable. Technology was advanced and laced into every area of life, so much so that the people inside would barely have to lift a finger. There was running water and fresh food. 

The pinnacle of the city, however, was the glasslike dome ceiling covering it. It stretched on for miles and miles, protecting its inhabitants from every natural disaster and element of the outside world that could ever harm them. 

These Oases popped up all over the planet, and when The End came, the wealthy and privileged who’d put the money into them simply took their husbands and wives and sons and daughters and moved in. (How sick is it that they likely felt no remorse for the entire human race they were shutting outside? How sick is it that the very ones who built the cities for them were turned away with the rest?) 

Years passed. Everything outside of those perfect sparkling castles fell apart. 

Decades passed. Earth’s population decreased by the billions. 

Centuries passed. By some small grace, the severity of harsh elements and disasters that had tormented the planet for so long regulated a bit. But then came outsiders’ next fatal problem: the testings. 

The people tucked away in their glass cities started getting sick. It's said that it likely happened quickly, before their doctors could conduct enough research to figure out what the root of the issue was. It came down to their own choices. Generations upon generations had been born and raised in those dome worlds, and as a result, their bodies were no longer strong enough to survive the harsh elements of the outside world. Their immune systems were weak. Direct exposure to UV rays would be enough to kill them.  

Maybe it wouldn’t have been a problem for them- they never went outside the walls anyway. But the dome ceilings were deteriorating. Their only protection started failing them. 

No matter how much money was put into them, and no matter how strong the domes originally were, time was still a greater force. The very weather that had ushered them into the Oases had begun to wear down the covering over their heads that was supposed to safeguard them. It’s said that’s why they began to fall ill. It’s said sickness swept through their spotless, golden homes so aggressively that the only untouchable people left on Earth were dying by the thousands. 

Perhaps that’s why they did it. Perhaps that’s why they’ve gone to such lengths to ensure their soldiers reach the ends of the Earth, because no matter how sinister and depraved they are, their spouses are dying. Their parents. Their kids. It’s not an acceptable excuse and it’s not justifiable either, but for some of them that has to be the reason. Jungwon knows, though, that for most of them their wicked mindsets simply come from a never ending source of selfish greed. They are dying. Their lives are on the line. They don’t care who else suffers- nor how much they have to- so they can survive. 

The accumulation: Unification was established. 

The full body suits to protect the soldiers venturing outside were created. Those soldiers spread the news to outsiders about what Unification was. What they stood for. Their motto was to aid the poor and the weak, essentially to become like them- rich and healthy. To unify them all as one once again. 

It was a bunch of bullshit, of course. Just a clever spin of lies used to deceive the innocent into doing what they wanted, but the outsiders didn’t know that at first. All they knew was that they were offered an opportunity to live in the Oases. The embellished stories and idolized rumors of running water and warm clothes and proper shelter and more food than one could eat alone- it was all too tempting. Even the chance at such a life… 

And all outsiders had to do was what Unification asked of them. In order to be granted access into the cities, they needed to undergo testing to ensure they would not be tracking diseases in with them. That was the only requirement. 

Those who were interested- which was everyone- waited at the pickup stations until the trucks and Uni soldiers made their rounds to get them. The sight of the vehicles alone must have been a shock. Jungwon’s seen a few before, but hasn’t ridden in one. He can only hope he never does. 

Outsiders were transported to facilities that were always built in forests and mountainous lands, under the guise of ensuring they wouldn’t be disturbed there. Unification got away with concealing the horrors that occurred behind facility walls. Outsiders kept waiting at the pickup stations. Uni soldiers kept making their rounds to fetch them. 

It went on like that, and on and on. 

Until someone escaped. 

The story goes like this: the freed woman stumbled, beaten and bruised and exhausted beyond repair, upon a group of outsiders. She screamed at the top of her lungs until her fragile voice stopped supporting her. About how it was all a lie. That Unification had fabricated the opportunity of moving into the Oases and used outsiders’ eagerness to their advantage. That those now trapped inside the facilities against their wills are forced to undergo treatments that drain them dry of their blood until they drop dead. She collapsed in a heap of brittle bones and sunken eyes and a gray uniform after delivering the news, and never woke up. 

Jungwon isn’t sure how much of the story has blurred around the edges by being passed from mouth to mouth for so many years, but it’s enough. It has been since the first time his mother told him. 

The truth spread like wildfire. They- outsiders- were different, somehow. There was something in their blood that Unification wanted. Wanted desperately. Something the generations that had lived outside and suffered and survived the brunt of the elements had developed a natural immunity against. Something Unification would do anything to get. 

The truth spread, and not a soul dared to approach even a mile surrounding pickup stations. Grasping for the literal source of their survival, Unification went to impossible lengths to capture people. Their few attempts to negotiate through various tactics failed. Outsiders wanted nothing to do with them, fleeing the very sight of their trucks rolling into view. 

Uni soldiers began combing through wooded areas, searching the wild, locating water sources, and sweeping the streets of abandoned cities where innocents built their little lives, yanking them from everything they’d ever known. They’d rip children away from parents, drag people out of the depths of sleep with gloved hands, haul them into trucks carrying them to their ultimate deaths. 

And Jungwon’s mother would finish the story with her warnings every time: You have to watch out for yourself, Jungwon. Always. There’s never a safe moment out here. There’s no down time. 

If you’re by yourself, you’re alone if you have to fight. Fight like hell, Jungwon. Don’t let them win. Don’t let them take anything else from you. Their spared lives are not worth your freedom. 

If you’re in a group, that doesn’t mean you’re any more safe. Soldiers have guns and weapons. They’ll attack the moment they get a chance. Don’t give them that chance to catch you off guard. Stay alert. 

If you sleep, someone else needs to be with you so they can keep watch. Switch places with them so they can rest too, but both of you can never sleep at the same time. Soldiers often come in the night when you are most vulnerable. She promised him she’d be that person to stay by his side while he slept. She promised him she’d always protect him. And she did. Until her very last moment, she did. 

It happened at dawn. They’d been walking down the highway for a couple days- only at night, of course, so they had time to duck off into the woods in the dark if they heard trucks coming- and they were exhausted. They’d finally made it into a city. It was huge and sprawling, stretching as far as Jungwon could see in every direction ahead of them; probably the biggest one he’d seen at that point. They’d been traveling in search of others they could live with, as a group could arguably provide them the security of more safety in numbers. They would be less of a specified target if they weren’t alone. 

So, picking their way through a decrepit area nearing the heart of the city, they searched. It was probably a neighborhood full of life hundreds of lifetimes ago, but it had turned to cracked sidewalks and overgrown weeds and collapsed houses. Jungwon had his eyes fixed on the dilapidated skyscrapers in the distance, letting it urge his stumbling feet forward, thinking that people may be camped out there. Hoping they were. 

As the sun was beginning to rise, they approached a corner to turn onto a new street. Jungwon’s mother stopped short right as she rounded it, slamming her body into the building beside them so Jungwon couldn’t pass her. He couldn’t see what she saw, but he heard them. He heard the trucks, the shouting. The telltale sound of boots pounding on the ground, drawing closer. 

“Run,” his mother said. Her voice was taut with fear, but it was a low command. She was telling him- ordering him- to flee. Jungwon remembers all too well the terror that seized his heart right then. He didn’t want to leave her. He knew what would happen if he left her. He hesitated. 

His mother didn’t look at him, sure not to alert the soldiers of his presence, but when she spoke again her words left no room for argument. And Jungwon had only ever trusted her. 

“Jungwon,” she hissed through clenched teeth, so firm, so scared- “Run.”

He obeyed. He ran down the street away from her, back the way they’d just come. He hid at the opposite corner behind a massive pile of rock rubble. And maybe it was foolish of him- the sight still haunts him in the present as if freshly seen, the memory still lingers in the corners of his consciousness, behind his eyelids, every single day- but. He stayed. And he watched. 

His mother stood her ground until the two soldiers that approached her tried to grab at her, and then she started fighting. Likely to give Jungwon more time to get away. Everything she ever did was for him, after all. 

Using her arms and legs alike, she managed to shake them off following their first couple advances. But then one of them caught hold of her hair and the other shoved her lower back and her head smacked into the side of the brick building and she wasn’t fighting anymore. Jungwon hardly contained the scream that threatened to climb out of his throat, smacking a dirtied hand over his mouth. He was convinced then- and still is- that he heard the sickening, hollow crack of her skull being crushed despite the distance. 

He remembers it all in horrifying, vivid detail. The way she slumped onto the ground and rolled onto her back, facing the two soldiers towering over her. Jungwon couldn’t see her eyes, but he thought they may still be open. He hoped, for a stupid, foolish second that they would deem her not worth their time. That they would leave her. She didn’t deserve to die like this, with their hands all over her. And she would die; Jungwon was only ten years old, but he knew no one survived head trauma like that. No medicine in their world, outside of the doctors and technology and resources in the Oases, would heal that wound. 

The small wish that he could say goodbye to his mother in peace- that she could pass in his arms and not theirs- was ripped away from him too. 

One of the soldiers outstretched their suit covered arm, fingers wrapped around the gun aimed at his mother’s head. The shot echoed in the otherwise empty streets, bouncing around in Jungwon’s brain and rattling him to the bone. He hadn’t shut his eyes for even a moment, so he’d known it was coming, but the jarring explosion of sound still made him jolt, shoulders hunching up to his ears. 

His mother’s blood seeped from her head quickly. Too quickly. She stilled. 

Jungwon remembers choking back his sobs. He remembers the soldiers gathering up her limp body in their hands, lifting her from the ground without an ounce of mortification for what they’d just done. He remembers how he’d almost jumped out of his hiding place and screamed, just so they’d come get him. Just so they’d kill him too, so that he wouldn’t have to live in a world without his only comfort. 

But his mother had sacrificed herself so he could live and he couldn’t throw that away. He wouldn’t. 

When the noise of the trucks taking her away from him (forever, forever, forever) faded, Jungwon went and sat in the dirt where she’d fallen, wondering how he was supposed to go on. 

The next three years were a blur. He was drowning in a grief he had no idea how to process, truly alone for the first time in his life. His mom wasn’t there to protect him. His mom wasn’t there to keep watch when he dozed off at night. 

He wandered from city to city and town to town without even attempting to search for a place to belong. He didn’t think that existed anymore without her. He acquired daggers through efforts of trade (scant amounts of food, rainwater he collected, his own clothes sometimes) and taught himself how to use them. He practiced relentlessly, so he could protect himself when he needed to. 

Life lost its meaning- or the little meaning it’d already had before he lost her. By the time he hit thirteen, he no longer knew why he was fighting so hard. It was easier to forget his mom’s sacrifice. It was easier to justify that she wouldn’t want him to suffer like this (alone, alone, always fucking alone) either. 

Then he met Sunoo and Niki. 

He’d been walking through what was essentially a desert- cracked, dry ground and hardly anything other than that in sight- for a couple hours, trying to see if there was a body of water on the other side of the expanse of it that he could camp out by until the weather cooled down. His pace was slow due to the heat and his general lack of everything necessary to give him energy. When the terrain began to change, gradually, he was grateful. A few more hours and a sparse littering of trees came along. Then more trees. Then more, and then he reached a forest. 

He was looking for a shaded spot to rest when he came upon two boys huddled up together under a tree despite the stickly heat. The way they stared at him was a mix of apprehension and curiosity, eyes obviously lingering on the dagger hilts sticking out of his pockets. 

Jungwon stopped a few paces away from them, taking in their wide expressions and grimy faces. They looked young, both of them, but he was too. And he was so fucking tired of being alone. 

It happened naturally, their sticking together. The three of them found the water Jungwon had hoped for and stuck out the summer there by the quaint lake. When the weather cooled in the fall, they started walking. They found a town with an ancient well a couple weeks into their search, and the group of outsiders living there, hidden away in the stretch of rolling hills, let them stay. They lived there for about a year, and during that time Jungwon learned to love Sunoo and Niki in the same way he’d loved his mother: unconditionally. 

Learning to live with his grief and process the trauma of watching her die was a long journey for Jungwon, but his friends helped. Niki softened his sharp edges and Sunoo held his hand when he felt like he was floating far out of their reach. Loving them also gave him a taste of how his mother must’ve felt about him, because he’d go to any lengths to protect them, and that was exactly what she’d always done for him. 

They left that little town when food provisions became scarce. The wildlife in the woods beyond the hills had begun to dwindle and the pitiful plants from the town’s garden weren’t generous enough in quantity to go around. The three of them were the youngest there, but that didn’t mean the adults felt any more compassion to allow them their share. Seniority kept winning out and Niki started losing weight and Jungwon had them packed (the stark little they had, that is) and moving on within a day. 

They traveled. They found another secluded spot in another wooded area by a tiny brook. They stayed there for another year or so, building their simple life and shifting around each other in uninterrupted harmony. Without the impending stress of what they were going to eat from day to day, it was easier for them to focus on each other. 

If Jungwon thought they were close the year before, those months in the woods when it was just the three of them shook the foundations of what he’d known about devotion to the ground. He loved Sunoo and Niki with everything he had and everything he was. It was impossible for him to imagine that anyone else could even make room for themselves in his full heart, but it turns out he was wrong about that too. 

They met Taeyong and Mark one day while they were on their way back to camp from hunting. It was late in the evening and the setting sun cast a contradicting glow on the bruises both older boys were sporting, visible everywhere from their arms and legs to their cheekbones. Mark, however, was much worse off, curling in on himself mindlessly as Taeyong’s shaking hands hovered over his ribs. 

Jungwon still doesn’t understand why Taeyong looked at him with so much pleading in his gaze that day, why he thought Jungwon would be able to offer him any sort of significant aid. Jungwon was fifteen and terribly scrawny then; he certainly didn’t exude the nature of a strong, reliable leader. Or maybe, all things considered, he did. He matured far quicker than he should have according to his age in the three years he was on his own, and then committed himself to taking care of Sunoo and Niki like Sunoo wasn’t older than him and Niki wasn’t only a year and a half younger. 

Regardless of the reason, Taeyong asked him for help, and Jungwon’s heart went out to the way the older looked like he couldn’t go on without ensuring Mark got better. After getting them properly settled in at camp, Taeyong explained they’d gotten into a tussle with two lone Uni soldiers the day before. They’d gotten their asses handed to them and Mark took the butt end of a gun to the ribs before they were finally able to disarm and kill their attackers. Jungwon had sat with campfire smoke blowing right into his face, dumbfounded, as Sunoo and Niki clearly were too. Plenty of people were killed after encountering a soldier and the rest were taken- no one they’d ever heard of had survived, let alone taken the soldiers’ lives instead. The tiny smile Taeyong directed at Mark after relaying the story was tired, and proud. 

The five of them stayed together, even after Mark’s ribs healed following an excruciatingly lengthy period of time. They stayed in that spot in the woods until the meager creek dried up in the height of summer, and they had no choice but to move on in search of a water source. 

The next month was the closest Jungwon has ever come to believing they were going to die. 

For three days straight they searched and searched in the scorching heat, but they couldn’t find water. Mercifully, it rained on the fourth day. They each drank their fill, but their containers to catch and save the water were few. More days passed as they kept searching; trying to keep their hopes up was a losing battle for all of them. By the end of the first week, Jungwon could tell that even Taeyong, who had naturally taken on the role of leading them as the eldest, was beginning to panic. 

They picked through the forest with painstaking care, but found no water. There was enough wildlife for them to hunt for food, but exhaustion started to play a dominant role in their performance. Food started to matter less. The unshakable presence of thirst started to sting more. Two weeks of fruitless searching passed, and they had to travel even further. 

Three weeks. 

Four. 

At the end of the month, there’d only been one other rainfall after the first, and their reserves were nearly bone dry. The five of them had crashed to the forest floor for rest they couldn’t catch up on no matter how long they sat without moving. Jungwon was leaning against a thin tree in a haze- the stifling summer heat seeping into his bloodstream and robbing him of any coherent thought except we’re going to die we’re going to die here we’re gonna fucking die here- when he heard voices. 

It was a group of people. It had to be. Jungwon couldn’t see them but they had to be outsiders too. Uni soldiers didn’t sound that lively; they seldom spoke to one another at all, as far as Jungwon knew. 

The vigor that propelled him to his feet was inexplicable. He was probably thinking about Sunoo, who was looking more sickly with each passing hour. He was probably thinking about Niki, who’d grown so tired over the past couple days that Taeyong and Mark had been taking turns carrying him on their backs. He was probably thinking about the two oldest boys, who’d already become family to him just as Sunoo and Niki were. 

His footfalls were heavy as he stumbled toward the distant murmur of sound growing louder, louder, shoulders catching on tree trunks and feet catching on roots in his haste. After what felt like a lifetime, he crashed through the last of the overgrown underbrush onto a dirt road. He doesn’t remember what he said to call the group’s attention, or how he ended up on the ground with dust kicking up around him, but he does remember the boy that approached him with slow steps and concerned eyes. 

He was certainly the youngest of the dozen or so people, but he looked to be older than Jungwon. He introduced himself as Heeseung and helped Jungwon to his feet, then helped him back to where his friends were stirring, alarmed by his sudden burst of energy. 

That blessed group of people saved them, right when they’d hit a wall, no longer able to move on further or do anything but pray for rain. They were so incredibly generous, taking the five of them in like they’d been there from the start, sharing their water and food without a second thought. Jungwon regained his strength along with his friends, and they were invited to journey with the group toward what they claimed would save them all. The destination they spoke of was discouragingly far away, but it sounded like the end result would be undeniably worth it. 

One of the older men in the group named Donghoon had left his wife and daughter behind a year before in search of a place they could live with year-round access to clean water. His quest was long and lonely and dangerous, but it finally paid off when he stumbled upon a monster of an abandoned city. That day, it was raining. He found a place to rest and slept through the night, waking up the next morning to more rain. The next day, and the next, and the next, it rained. 

The city, Donghoon discovered, was teeming with outsiders. They were smart about it. From the perimeter of the city, it looked as desolate as could be, and most of the time it was. But deep within the twisting streets and towering buildings, people had created homes for themselves in the midst of ruins and decay, wherever they could with whatever they could find. They had gardens and ways to preserve food in the winter months. Their hidden community was so established that they held a market in the labyrinth of streets once a week, to trade food and trinkets and other supplies. They welcomed Donghoon and confirmed that in that region, it rained several times a week, every week of the year.

Donghoon hurried back to his wife and child and then they were on their way to the city together, picking up individuals along the way who were also in search of a place of solace. Jungwon couldn’t fathom a place where water would be so abundant, but he wanted to believe in it for the sole purpose of having some hope to cling to. Sunoo, Niki, Taeyong, and Mark were onboard too, so they went. 

The journey was long, and hot. Summer hung on longer than it seemed to in earlier years, but their routine made it slightly more bearable. They would sleep during the day, taking turns keeping watch, and travel by night. With so many of them, it was vital to be cautious of their surroundings constantly. There were many times they had to run for cover at the sound of trucks in the distance, and a few close calls that were so rattling they caused Jungwon to realize how much he truly valued his life. 

Before, his existence had felt expendable. Now he had Sunoo, Niki, Taeyong, and Mark, and Heeseung too, even though the development of their friendship was still quite new. Jungwon had to protect them. They protected him in return. They couldn’t make any mistakes, or they’d lose each other. And they couldn’t afford that. Jungwon couldn’t afford that. 

It was his deepest rooted fear- losing any one of them- and also his greatest motivation, pushing him forward. To safety. To hope. To an unimaginable abundance of water. 

After a long five weeks, right when the cool of autumn was beginning to slip into early mornings and late nights, they made it to the city. Even when it was a mere dot in the distance, the skies were cloudy and dropping a steady drizzle of rain. Jungwon couldn’t get over it- how this essential part of life that had previously directed his every movement and decision was now simply falling from the sky. The closer they got to the city, the more Jungwon felt that blossom of hope opening up in his chest. Maybe this would last. Maybe they could make a home for themselves here. 

To the unsuspecting eye, the city looked as ordinary as any other: old, decrepit, and uninhabited. As they walked the glistening, empty streets it certainly looked that way. But they kept taking twists and turns and then the community Donghoon had spoken about was bursting to life before their very eyes. It was a shock, seeing so many individuals coming together as one. Everyone accepted them immediately. Water and food was always right within reach. Sunoo, Niki, Taeyong, Mark, and Heeseung were safe and content. Jungwon felt rich for the first time in his life. 

Time went on, and the six of them adjusted. To their new home, tucked in the corner of two old buildings under a protective awning. To the puddles pooling alongside cracked curbs that never dried up. To having access to a wider range of supplies they didn’t have before. 

By the time winter rolled around, they’d properly settled into their new life. Taeyong and Mark finally talked and officially got together. No one was surprised, but everyone was happy for them. Jungwon watched the spark that had always been there grow between Sunoo and Niki too, grinning to himself when they’d sit shoulder to shoulder murmuring to each other every evening by the fire.

He and Heeseung gravitated towards each other more and more as the days went on. All the time they spent together allowed Jungwon the opportunity to truly understand his older friend. They were alike in a lot of ways and drastically different in others, but their personalities complimented each other well. Jungwon was the voice of reason when Heeseung got in his head and Heeseung was the quiet comforter Jungwon hadn’t truly allowed himself to have since his mother. 

The two of them staying up into the early hours of the morning talking or merely keeping each other company in companionable silence became a regular occurrence. They took first watch every night because it only made sense. It was one of these nights that the mundaneness Jungwon had grown used to was thrown up in the air. 

The temperature outside their tent had reached what had to be an all-year low, at least that’s what Jungwon was thinking as he fought the urge to just unclench his jaw and let his teeth chatter. One of the downfalls of having so much rain in the area was that when the snow and freezing weather came, everything turned to slush and sleet and ice, and stayed that way.  

Jungwon was yanked from his own head at the sudden noise outside. It was distant, but so out of the ordinary that he was immediately alarmed. A sort of… sloshing sound. Scraping. Someone was walking outside on the frozen ground, and they weren’t being careful about it. They would’ve been if they lived here, knowing that hundreds of people were sleeping in these streets. Jungwon’s veins thrummed with trepidation that pricked at his heart and flushed throughout his entire body within a split second. 

The leaden footsteps grew ever closer. Jungwon clutched one of his knives in his left hand, grasping at Heeseung’s arm with the right. There was no need to alert the older boy of the sound though- he’d heard it too. They were on their feet and ready for a fight in an instant. 

Time suspended for a few more unbearable moments, holding its breath, but the boy that stumbled ungracefully into their tent was anything but a threat. He was soaked to the bone and shivering uncontrollably, frost practically clinging to his eyebrows and thin clothes. He said his name was Jake and he asked if he could stay the night. 

He did stay, and he stayed far longer than the following morning. Heeseung was enamored of him by the literal second fucking day, and he fit perfectly into their disjointed group dynamic. Jake shared his story piece by piece- how his dad never came back when he went out to look for food two years before, and how he’d been wandering around on his own since. Jungwon felt for him, figuring they had quite a bit in common with one another. Their relationship progressed just as quickly as his had with Heeseung. 

Months passed. 

Niki made up games for them to play in the alleyways, Heeseung and Jake always the first to be dragged away while Sunoo watched and laughed at their expense. Their shoes would get soggy from the puddles and their hair would get damp and stick to their foreheads, but their cheeks were always red with exertion and glee afterwards so a bit of discomfort was clearly a price they were willing to pay. 

Taeyong built relationships with other leaders in the community, observing how they guided larger groups of people and learning how to be comforting and firm at the same time. Jungwon spent his days practicing with his daggers and going on occasional hunting trips with Mark so they could trade on market days. He and the older boy found a rusty ladder leading to a cleared rooftop one evening on their way back into the city, and the whole group would spend rare clear-skied nights up there watching the sunset. 

It was fall of the next year when the last of them waltzed into Jungwon’s life. 

Jungwon was seventeen and finally growing into his height and constantly wishing Heeseung and Jake would do them all a favor and move past the yearning glances phase. The three of them had gone to the market together and his friends had been very helpful and very focused and not distracted by staring at each other at all. 

Jungwon was not inclined to interrupt their moment, nevermind the fact they were the ones who’d insisted he come in the first place. That’s why he was a significant distance behind them as they walked back to their tent, and also why they didn’t hear his muffled yell when a gloved hand clamped over his mouth from behind. 

Someone taller and stronger than him locked their arm around his body, trapping his own to his sides as they tugged him into the alley to the right with no preamble. The scuffle was a blur to Jungwon- he simply recalls the terror he felt while being dragged away from his friends who couldn’t hear him, hands twisted at such an angle that he couldn’t reach the daggers tucked away in his pockets.

He got his feet under him enough to push off the ground and slam back into his captor’s chest as hard as he could, using their momentary slack grip to try and reach one of his weapons. That attempt was dashed when the soldier caught the movement and twisted his wrist back at a piercing angle. 

Jungwon’s yelp of pain was choked off as their hand was suddenly at the base of his neck instead of over his mouth. Wiry, gloved fingers squeezed the breath out of him in a wheeze, and then- then he really started to panic. He could feel the buildup of protesting blood rising to his face, could feel his eyes bugging out of his head the longer the soldier grappled to push him under the thick waves of unconsciousness. 

Brain firing off sharp, pained signals, lungs screaming for air, Jungwon struggled against the arms restraining him with all his might. The soldier simply went with him when he jostled them backwards a few meager steps, trying to get back out into the open, but to no avail. Another attempt failed.

Jungwon wondered, for a hysterical second, if he’d be worth the hassle or if they’d just kill him like they killed his mother. Dead outsiders weren’t as valuable as alive ones to Unification- only a single harvest that surely had to be performed within a specific period following the time of death was available to them- but his blood was precious, no matter the quantity or the timeline. No matter if he was still breathing or not. 

As intent as Jungwon was on escaping, the soldier was intent on taking him. They nearly succeeded too. Jungwon’s vision was closing in, blacking out around the edges. The fight was quickly abandoning him, helplessness setting in because he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t think and he couldn’t reach. But somehow, he still heard it over the roar of his heartbeat pounding in his ears: a shout. 

The voice was unfamiliar but clearly calling his attention, so Jungwon forced himself to blink the encroaching grainy flickers away and managed to twist his head far enough to the left to see a boy standing down at the end of the alleyway. The stranger only waited until they locked eyes to rear his arm back and throw something- a knife, a knife- in Jungwon’s direction with all his might. 

To this day Jungwon believes that his sheer will to escape, to live, was the only thing that pushed him to act in that moment instead of succumbing to the abyss swallowing him whole. With a surge of power, he threw his hips backward, effectively slamming the soldier into the wall behind them. The arm looped around his body faltered at the aggressive jolt, and that was all Jungwon needed. 

He caught the knife slicing through the air with his free hand, immediately driving the blade down into the thigh braced behind his own. The soldier- a man, judging by the guttural groan he let out as Jungwon twisted the knife deeper- lost his strength so quickly, it was as if he’d never had it at all. Jungwon broke away, shoving at those heavy arms, and spinning to lodge his own dagger into the side of the man’s neck. The suit was protective enough that no blood spewed at first. But it did when Jungwon ripped the blade out, droplets spattering across the alley walls and the dirt beneath his feet and himself. 

Exhausted, Jungwon shot the tainted hand out to catch himself against the side of the building as the soldier crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. Focusing on heaving in sweet gulps of air and nothing else, Jungwon didn’t notice the boy again until he’d approached him. 

“You okay?”

His voice- Jungwon turned his head, still breathing hard, and looked at him. The tension in his shoulder blades seized up, then relaxed. He pushed away from the wall, straightening up, unable to look away from the boy who’d stopped two foot away from him because-

His eyes. They didn’t belong in their world. They were too kind, too warm. Too different. 

That moment- when everything started, when everything shifted- was soon accompanied by Jake and Heeseung. They came skidding around the corner with Jungwon’s name on their lips, raw fear in their eyes as they raked over Jungwon’s still-red face and the dead soldier lying in the dirt and the stranger standing nearby. 

Their apologies were profuse and relentless, of course, but Jungwon didn’t blame them for what happened even a little bit. They hadn’t asked him to give them space as they were walking; that’d been his own choice. If the three of them had been together, the older boys would’ve heard his calls for help. If they had been together, the soldier probably wouldn’t have come at them at all; he hadn't used a gun to quell Jungwon’s resistance, so Jungwon assumed he hadn’t had one on him for some reason, and three-against-one wouldn’t have been a smart move on his part. Jungwon insisted that his friends stop feeling guilty for something that wasn’t even their fault. There was no denying, though, that he’d been in serious danger, and there was no denying that Jay had saved his life. 

Eventually, reluctantly, Jay revealed he had water with him but no food. He stayed for dinner that night, then stayed the week, then stayed indefinitely. 

Jay was wholly and completely himself from the very beginning, but Jungwon still couldn’t figure him out for the longest time, even as they rapidly became closer. Not because he was all that mysterious or secluded of a person, but because he didn’t seem to fit into the categories of any person Jungwon had ever met before. 

He was gentle- not with life, but with Jungwon. He was kind- not to the soldiers that attempted to capture them in the streets from time to time, but to Jungwon. He was quiet when he wanted to be- not with most, whom he’d unfailingly charm with his light jokes and boisterous laughter, but with Jungwon. He was rage and fire and fury in its purest form- they’d taken his sister, they’d taken everything from him- but with Jungwon he was sweet and goofy and a little too selfless. To Jungwon, he was comfort. Warmth. The most flawless embodiment of delicacy, woven into all his sharp edges and pointed glares and steady hands. 

The memories they made in that first year after their timely meeting are precious to Jungwon. Absolutely untouchable. Because even though their clothes were nearly always clinging to them from the rain, and some weeks food was more scarce than others, and some days were a little too hot and some nights a little too cold, that was when Jungwon accepted that he’d likely never truly figure Jay out.  

Every glance, every touch, every breath in Jungwon’s direction had him rethinking anything and everything he ever thought he’d known about attentiveness. About adoration. About love. 

Every waking moment, they were at each other’s sides. Every night, they were at each other’s sides. Every second that Jungwon spent with him only solidified that he desperately desired the older to be happy and safe, always. And maybe someday, somewhere in that picture, he would be welcomed too. Wanted too. 

Purpose took a new shape in Jungwon’s mindset as the passing months began to meld into one another, as their circumstances began to change once again. More and more outsiders flocked into the city after discovering a region where coveted rainfall was so frequent, and it was only a matter of time before Uni soldiers started showing up more too. 

The secrecy of their community faded as the number of newcomers grew. The camps that were once all contained within the discrete ruins of the inner city began to spill into the outer sectors, into the main streets. It was easier for soldiers to spot makeshift homes and groups of people. It was easier for them to prey on the weak ones. It was easier for them to succeed in taking them. 

Jungwon remembers the denial swelling in his chest when it all began to escalate. Every day more people went missing when daylight faded. Everyone was paranoid and exhausted from sleepless nights. Their solace had not been perfect by any means, but it had been theirs and it had gone mostly untouched for the better part of the two years they’d lived there. Slowly but surely, that peace was taken away from them. No matter how much Jungwon wished it not to be true, their city had become a target. 

The eight of them seriously discussed if they needed to leave the city to distance themselves from such a large mass of people that would inevitably continue to draw Unification’s attention. But then Jungwon took notice of the set of Jay’s jaw, of the defiance flaring up in the eyes of each of his closest friends, and the switch was flipped. 

They gathered their wits about them and picked up whatever weapons they could find. Day by day, month by month, they fought back, and they fought like hell. When they heard trucks in the distance they wouldn’t run and hide, but prepare. It was slow progress, but there were others that rallied around them, eager to stand their ground and fight too. The more soldiers they killed in the streets, the more weapons they could confiscate and use as their own. 

The amount of abductions decreased. Not completely, and not quickly either, but notably. And sometimes they would win. It filled them all with a resolution made of steel, finally having a fraction of control over their own lives. Soldiers weren’t used to defiance, and they used that to their advantage. 

Routines were set in place. Taeyong shifted into a leadership position; he knew how to stoke the fire of conviction and he knew how to command a crowd. Conversation everywhere spoke of how what they were doing could actually mean something. Everyone started dreaming about what it would be like to genuinely make a difference. For the first time in any of their lives, it was actually a possibility. 

It only made sense, really, that all their passion and brainstorming led to them deciding to do what should have been impossible: leaving the city with the intention of finding facilities and attacking them to save the people inside. It was fucking insane- that’s what those who weren’t onboard with the idea said when it was proposed. It was nothing but a suicide mission. They weren’t prepared and they wouldn’t stand a chance against the weapons and security in Unification’s favor.

But that was exactly what made Jungwon- and all of them- bristle. It’s what pushed them to their limits, past the fear of the absolute unknown. They would not lay idle or cower any longer. They would save those who were just like them, who’d had their freedom stripped from them. The decision, laid out in such simple terms, was easy to make. 

The sprawling forest several miles beyond the city was their eventual destination. It was so large and densely populated with trees that it was the most obvious place for facilities to be located. Ages ago, Unification purposefully built facilities in the thickest of forests to avoid outsiders’ suspicions and keep them blissfully unaware, subsequently ensuring they would eventually come too, and willingly at that. Jungwon has never been told how Unification had the means to build the countless facilities they have, but there is much about the resources hidden in the Oases that isn’t common knowledge to the outside world, so he’s long since dismissed those inquiries. 

Their first step was to send a small group into said forest in search of a viable place they- and many others- could be concealed. It was absurd to expect newly rescued individuals to successfully make the trek all the way back to the city, so finding that spot where they could rest was their initial priority. 

Jungwon was a member of that first departing group, along with Jay and all the other boys that are still tracking today. They scoured the forest for days looking for anything applicable to their needs. It was at the tail end of their eighth day searching when they stumbled upon it by some merciful stroke of luck: the compound. 

They nearly missed the inconspicuous metal door tucked away behind a wall of trees, but there it was, by itself and seemingly just waiting for them. They pried open the door and cautiously went inside, only to go down, and the dark hallways unfurled like the fingers of a hand that had previously kept them from accomplishing everything they wanted to. 

After looking through the entire compound and confirming that it was indeed empty (Jay’s fingers were tightly wound about Jungwon’s wrist the entire time, tugging him behind him every time they entered a new room and Jungwon can’t forget it, won’t forget it) they returned to the city and relayed the news of their priceless find to the rest of the raiders who’d agreed to join them- a group of about one hundred. Jungwon had heard tales of these safe houses that were built when the old world was ending, but he hadn’t ever imagined that they were large enough to hold hundreds of people, let alone that they existed in working order anymore.

But they led everyone to the compound and collectively tampered with things until that working order was restored to its highest potential. The space had never been inhabited after being built, obvious by its untouched state, but its prolonged solitude meant there were some electrical problems to be repaired through trial and error and several burst water pipes to be patched up in the same manner. None of the hardships phased a single one of them, their eyes set on the stock piles of clothes for every season and the blankets and the beds.

Jungwon and Jay settled into the same room without even speaking about sharing. Jay lowered himself to sit on the bed for the first time with an awestruck look on his face. Jungwon shuffled into their bathroom- bathroom- to gawk at the toilet and sink and shower. They were all amenities he’d only ever heard of. He never thought he’d have the opportunity to use them, yet there he was, suddenly constructing a life in which they would become a part of his daily routine. 

Regardless of all the newness, they adapted quickly and got to work. Jungwon was appointed leader of the tracking team by the others when it was formed. They spent the first couple weeks making their rounds through the forest and learning the land, drawing it out on the map when they returned. 

They found their first facility. That raid was arguably the most nerve-racking; they knew going into it they’d be severely outnumbered by weapon power and entirely clueless of what the inside looked like. Still, their unwavering determination pushed them through the apprehension enough that they could succeed. 

And they did. Every single one of the soldiers in that first facility fell and every single person who’d been subjected to the tests was saved. After that, it got a little easier. Their skills became more refined with the addition of the guns they’d collect in the aftermath of each raid. Food rations and countless other supplies that were also gathered afterwards helped life at the compound go on smoothly. 

Months passed, and Jungwon began to appreciate the little things more. That fire still burned a gaping hole within him, demanding he avenge the cruel murder of his mother and the capture of Jay’s sister and all that had been done to the families and friends of everyone he knew, but when the tracking day was up and they were all back at the compound, he learned to slow down. To have dinner with his friends in the eatery and crack up when Heeeung and Jake thought they were being subtle in their flirting. To yank Niki down into a headlock and squeeze Sunoo’s hand. To take his time in the shower and step out feeling refreshed and clean. To talk to Jay in the peace of their room without having to glance over his shoulder every minute. 

And Jay- he enraptured every bit of Jungwon’s attention. He blossomed under the weight of their work instead of being burdened by the stress of it. He was watching out for Jungwon at every turn, and Jungwon knew every part of him. Which side of the bed he liked most- the right, closer to the door. How his damp hair fell across his forehead after he showered. How he tossed and turned on the nights he couldn’t sleep and how he wouldn’t budge even an inch on the nights he was exhausted. 

And now their room is empty and the halls are empty and this place is empty without him in it. Jungwon is empty.

He can feel it- anguish- scratching behind his eyelids as he stares at the map, at everything they know thus far. But so much of it is achingly, despairingly empty. So much of it is unexplored, so much of it is unknown to them, and Jay could be anywhere. 

The itching in Jungwon’s eyes begins to burn. He braces his hands on the edge of the table, gripping the wood. He wonders, distantly, if he could break his fingers if he squeezed hard enough. He wonders if it’d make him feel something other than this suffocating torture of distress. He wonders if he would welcome the distraction at all. 

There’s a sudden weight resting between his shoulder blades. Jungwon hardly turns to look, but he knows that touch, knows it’s Jake. He hadn’t heard him approach. 

They stay like that a long time, Jungwon fighting down the lump in his throat, Jake standing beside him, gentle hand present but unmoving. Finally, the older boy speaks in a hush hardly louder than a whisper. 

“Punishing yourself isn’t going to bring him back.”

Jungwon doesn’t know what he’s referring to- the fact that he’s awake right now, or if he happened to see how hard Jungwon had been digging his fingers into the table- but it doesn’t matter. Jake’s tone is pitying. Pleading. 

And Jungwon really can’t fault him for attempting to look after him when he couldn’t give less of a damn about looking after himself, but that wasn’t what he needed to hear. He knows what he needs and it’s not something any of them can say or give to him. If they could give it to him, he would have Jay back. 

Jungwon doesn’t know how to make them understand that he doesn’t want to be like this- this is just how he is without Jay. Without Jay he loses his sense of direction. Without Jay there’s no warmth. Without Jay there’s no Jay, and he doesn’t want to- he can’t- function in a reality like that. There’s no changing how his body is reacting, or his mind. There’s nothing he can do or stop doing to change that because Jay is out there somewhere, alone and suffering, and Jungwon can’t help him. 

Detachedness pops and gushes like crushed fruit in Jungwon’s heart. The heat that had sprung to his eyes fades away. He says nothing to Jake because he has nothing to say. He rarely ever has anything to say anymore. 

Jake offers up nothing else, and lets him go without trying to convince him to sleep in his and Heeseung’s room. He knows Jungwon would decline anyway. Jungwon can feel his friend’s gaze on his back as he rounds the corner, leaving the ring. He shuffles through the dim hallways blindly, back to the room (their room). He curls up under the blankets (their blankets) in the dark, and only then does he realize he’s shivering.

He thinks of Jay rolling over in this very spot (his spot) on this side of the bed (his side), months ago. He feels phantom touches of the older slinging an arm over his middle, the heat of his skin bleeding through Jungwon’s shirt. He hears an echo of Jay’s deep snort of laughter resounding in the space as he’d poked at Jungwon’s hip bone with gleeful jabs, that crooked grin of his lighting up the whole damn room. 

He’s not here. He’s not fucking here. 

Jungwon shakes against the chill that’s long since settled deep in his bones. It’s gnawing away at his insides. He buries his cheek further into the mattress and he does not cry. 

He rarely ever has any tears left to shed either. 

Chapter Text

Jay’s hair is damp with sweat, clumping up in thick pieces that hang low over his eyes. There’s no way he can clearly focus on fighting with all that obstruction to his vision, but Jungwon- watching anxiously- realizes the older boy isn’t relying on his sight to throw off his attackers’ hands at all. He’s using his strength. 

No matter how many punches Jay dodges with ease though, it’s four to one and nowhere near a fair fight. One of them finally lands a hit, their fist connecting with Jay’s jaw with a sick crack. Jungwon tries to scramble up from where he’s being pinned to the forest floor, but he’s forced right down again. His cheek is now pressed into the dirt and his shoulders ache from the unknown weight pressing on him from above, but Jungwon still cranes his neck at a piercing angle to catch a glimpse- 

Another fist rams into Jay- his gut this time- and Jungwon yells so loud he feels his vocal cords shift as Jay hunches over, winded and gasping for air. Jungwon’s voice has gone hoarse from screaming at the soldiers not to hurt him, but he’s so far away from the older boy and he can’t reach him and he feels the string of hope that someone is coming to help fraying with each passing second. They’re on their own. 

Jungwon cries out when the weight on top of him suddenly heavies, stifling his breath. Jay’s head snaps up, frenzied eyes finding his across the distance. In the next second, his efforts to evade his attackers triples. Jungwon’s pleading with him to stop struggling so aggressively for his sake- they’re going to hurt him they’re going to hurt him- when his eyes catch on a figure standing a few feet away from the older boy. 

Their form is unidentifiable and fuzzy around the edges. Nondescript like someone who usually fades into the background unchecked. Blurred in both shape and color. Their presence contrasting with the vivid quality of the rest of the forest is strange and out of place, but they’re there, and they’re facing Jay. Just… watching. 

Something starker than disbelief and keener than disgust claws its way up Jungwon’s throat. They’re just watching. Just standing there. Doing nothing. Before Jungwon can redirect his anger towards them though, they wave a nonchalant hand. 

The scene shifts. 

The forest floor melts into dust instead of earth, the trees give way to buildings. Jungwon whips his head around trying to make sense of his new surroundings while also processing that he’s still unable to rush forward. Then, with mounting alarm, he realizes he’s not being held down by any sort of crushing weight but by himself. He’s absolutely rooted in place, stuck where he is. He can only swivel his head side to side, so forces himself to focus on where he is despite how unnerving it is to be restricted like this. 

There’s rubble in front of him. There’s rubble next to him on his left, and on his right too. It’s a lot, enough to- 

Jungwon's body flushes with terror. Fuck. 

Enough to hide him while he watches.  

A punched out gasp wheezes out of Jungwon when he peers over the debris pile enough to see that it’s the street. The street. He can hear Jay’s weary grunts as he continues fighting the soldiers at the corner down the way, can see him trying to achieve an unachievable feat. Panic tears holes in Jungwon’s chest, rips into his heart. Jay is going to die. He is going to die exactly like Jungwon’s mother did. 

Jungwon tries screaming- get away from that building, get away from it!- but no sound comes out of his mouth. His shredded voice and anguished cries are noises no one but himself can hear. Continued attempts to move are another lost cause. There’s nothing he can do. 

He starts choking on his own sobs, knowing what’s coming. One of the soldiers gets a handle on Jay’s back and shoves him and his head slams into the corner of the brick building and Jungwon knows what’s coming. Jay crumples down into the dirt, rolls over onto his back. The soldiers tower over him. 

The gun is aimed at his head. The shot echoes through the street. Jay stills- doesn’t move again. 

Horror displaces time. 

Jungwon doesn’t regain control of his body until they’ve already hauled him away. Until the sound of the trucks leaving the city has faded. Long after that. 

And then, through his sweat and tears and trembling, Jungwon realizes the figure is still there where they’ve been this whole time, facing the scene. Facing the blood standing stagnant in the dirt. Facing the very place Jay was taken from him. Jungwon sees them standing there and his horror makes way for rage- a vehement fury unlike anything he’s ever known. 

He’ll kill them. He’ll fucking kill them for looking on idly while Jay suffered. He’ll make them pay for doing nothing to stop Jay’s death. It doesn’t matter if they didn’t know him. It doesn’t matter if he was a complete stranger to them- it’s- it’s human decency- it’s-

His boots pound on the ground as he races toward them, but they don’t seem flustered by his approach in the slightest. Jungwon clasps a hand on their shoulder, intending to make them face him. He wants to see their expression before he goes through with it, to commit the regret in their eyes for what they’d done- what they hadn’t done- to memory. Maybe it will ease the grief already crushing his lungs. Maybe it will help him feel something when the devastating despair of what he just watched- who he just lost- fully sets in. 

The figure is forced about by his own hand. Jungwon’s eyes fall upon their face and-

He hits the ground when his knees give out. The world distorts. Dust kicks up around him as he skitters back on his hands, not breathing- he can’t breathe, can’t believe- 

Jungwon’s been wrong about a lot of things before. Sometimes his mind plays tricks on him, makes him see things. But not this time. He knows those eyes, that hair, that nose, that mouth. He knows that face. 

It’s his own. 

»

When winter comes, Jungwon’s started having nightmares. 

They’re not wispy, dainty things that fade with morning light. He sees them clearly. Too clearly. He remembers them clearly. They take root in his veins and wrap tendrils around his heart. The images haunt him everytime he blinks, blanketed beneath his eyelids. He sees blood everywhere he looks. It makes his chest shudder, vision blur, hands shake. 

The bad dreams were there before, but they were few and far between, and they were never like this. 

Jungwon tries not to think about them, but he can’t ignore the shadows lingering in every corner of every room in the compound. They slink amongst the trees when he’s outside in the forest and follow him wherever he goes. He tries not to think about what inside him is instigating the nightmares, what it’s all stemming from- because he knows- but he can’t ignore that either. 

It’s as jarring as it is exhausting. He was sleeping a bit more before, just because so many months of mistreating his body forced it into shutdown mode anytime he had a free moment. The stress of wasting time by sleeping weighed on him heavier every time he woke up from unintentional dozing off back then, but there was little he could do about it. He had no control over most parts of his life, and when his eyes decided to slip shut was one of them. 

But then the nightmares started ramping up to several times a week instead of several times a month, and then they were happening every night. All he’s done for over nine months is think about that night Jay was taken. How it must have gone down. How badly they must’ve hurt him to be successful in dragging him away. How scared he must of been. 

Maybe it’s sick- how much Jungwon thinks about it. It certainly doesn’t do him any good in the long run. And yet he can’t stop. 

Perhaps that’s how those thoughts bled into his dreams. Nightmares twist his musings into fantasies that are not too far from reality. There is no peace for him, in consciousness or unconsciousness (not that there has been Since). No part of his life is untouched by the absence of Jay, and maybe it’s also sick that Jungwon is glad. Amidst the numbness, pain blooms, hitting the surface, right where it hurts, and Jungwon feels it. It pushes him a few more hours in the forest, searching. It helps him focus when signs of an impending shutdown show, like dark rain clouds used to forebode a merciless storm in the city they once called home. 

It makes him remember. He’s not here and he’s suffering. He’s not here and he’s lost out there. He’s not here and he needs you to find him, save him, bring him back. God forbid he ever forget, even for just a moment. 

The lights are dim outside of Jungwon’s room. His steps carry him around familiar twists and turns; only when the map is laid out before him and the circular walls of the ring stretch wide around him does he remember even getting out of bed. 

For all his avoidance regarding anything toeing near the threshold of sleep, he does still slip into bed most nights. Largely due to the fact that Jake or Sunoo (or Niki or Heeseung or Mark or Taeyong) check in on him sometimes around midnight, cracking the door open and gazing at his closed eyes for a few moments before leaving him in solitude again. He’s still trying for them, after all.

He stands there at the table for an immeasurable amount of time, losing himself to the fog of images his mind is replaying on a constant loop. Shuffling footsteps alert him that someone is approaching at some point. Sunghoon enters the ring cupping a handful of dried fruit to his chest.

“Hey,” he says softly, coming over to stand nearby. Jungwon hums back in response, only glancing up long enough to mirror the feeble smile on the older’s face. 

He and Sunghoon have grown closer over the past month and a half. Mostly because now most nights when Jungwon is awake, Sunghoon is too. The unspoken understanding of one another they’d already cultivated has deepened, fastening onto all the quiet hours they’ve spent in each other’s presence. Sometimes they don’t talk very much, but that doesn’t bother Jungwon in the slightest. 

Sunghoon takes walks outside too. Jungwon asked him about it once, when they happened to meet each other in the hallway and head out at the same time. The older boy said that spending time by himself in the open air helps him clear his head; it doesn’t make the suffering he underwent in the facility go away, but it helps. Jungwon always goes left. Sunghoon always goes right. It’s a simple thing, to have this in common, but it resonates with Jungwon nonetheless. 

“Another dream?” Sunghoon asks. Jungwon doesn’t look at him, seeing the street corner again. The gun. The blood. Himself. 

“Yeah.”

Sunghoon gives him a moment. “What about?” It’s something he’s taken to asking. Both of them have. They walk. They don’t sleep. They ask each other about their nightmares. 

Sometimes Jungwon gets choked up. Sometimes he can’t answer. Sometimes he simply doesn’t want to, and sometimes Sunghoon isn’t inclined to share either. When he does, it’s always vague. And violent. Still, they both ask.

“Jay,” Jungwon tells him, but that was a given. 

Sunghoon knows more about Jungwon’s nightmares centered around Jay than anyone else in the compound, and the thought is almost amusing to Jungwon. What a twist of fate, to have the individual who’s never met Jay be the very one Jungwon confides in about the horrors he sees in his sleep. 

“It happened where my mom died. This time,” Jungwon goes on. The images are still fresh in his mind and dream-Jay has never been placed in that setting before and he thinks that if he doesn’t talk about it he may lose himself to his spiraling thoughts instead.  

Sunghoon doesn’t react or shift away like he’s uncomfortable hearing it . He just stands there, still. Receptive. That’s how this works between them. It’s exactly why Jungwon thinks he shares most nights- because somehow, just a little, it helps. Not to fix anything, but to keep functioning. To keep holding on. Until. 

“Cruel,” Sunghoon mutters. 

It is cruel. It’s so fucking messed up that his distress-riddled unconsciousness insists on not only torturing the boy who’s been missing almost ten months in his dreams, but also placing him in the very position Jungwon’s mother was in when she died. It’s cruel, and Jungwon would rather forgo sleep a hundred nights than see any of it again. Selfish, his mind whispers, standing here, dwelling on his own troubles. Selfish. He thinks he’s suffering, dreaming about torment. But Jay’s out there going through it. 

“You haven’t told me about her,” Sunghoon says after a while. “Or what happened.” It’s less of a question and more of an invitation. Jungwon’s still seeing Jay where she was. Jay where she fell. He can’t shake it, even though he knows it didn’t go like that. What really happened is no less traumatizing, but Jungwon still hopes the visuals will drift out of reach. 

“Before she died we moved around a lot. She showed me how to survive and kept me safe. Taught me how to protect myself. When I was ten we were looking for a group to stay with and we came across an old city. She was walking in front of me when we got to this street corner and she just… stopped. Told me to run. I heard the trucks and the soldiers getting closer and she stood her ground and I just-”

Jungwon stops, swallowing thickly. Remembering. There’s flashes of dream-Jay, but since Jungwon’s focusing on the memory, his mother rushes back in detail. Her head, her body, her blood in the dirt. 

“I just ran,” Jungwon grits out, feeling every bit the coward he is. Every time he admits it to himself again is another chip to his heart. “Hid. She tried to fight them off but they pushed her into the side of the building and her head-” 

He hears the hollow crack of her skull crushing in on itself from his spot behind the rubble and his gut clenches sharply. The meager amount of food he consumed earlier under Sunoo’s watchful eye threatens to come up so he pauses until the urge mostly passes. 

“She was already going to die. But they shot her in the head and picked her up and took her away. To- to harvest her blood like she was just a thing. Something disposable for them to use at their convenience. Like she wasn’t a mother- my mother. Like she wasn’t a person at all.” Jungwon’s throat clamps up and he decides he’s done, else he’ll start crying. The grief never disappears. The anger never fades. 

Waiting until he’s somewhat composed himself, Jungwon glances over at Sunghoon and- stops short. The older’s eyes are unmistakably glossy. He doesn’t look over even though he must know Jungwon’s staring at him, swimming gaze resolutely locked on the table. Jungwon wants to ask if he’s okay, or what’s wrong, but decides against it. Sunghoon will talk if he wants to. And he does, eventually, long after Jungwon’s stopped looking at him. 

“I don’t remember my mom,” he says. Some would conclude he sounds miserable, but Jungwon understands the intonations of his voice by now. He’s wistful. Saddened by loss they’ve all been dealt by now. 

“She passed when you were young?” Jungwon prompts quietly. Sunghoon looks like he needs the push. His bottom lip trembles, then evens out in a thin line again before he nods. 

“Not too long after I was born. So I didn’t know her. The people I lived with- they told me a little about her, but. It never felt like enough.” 

With the pain of losing his mother comes all the good memories he treasures. He’s in a place now that he can at least recognize that. Her death hurt so much because of how much he loved her, and how much he knew she’d loved him. Jungwon has tried imagining what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t had the time he did with her and always comes to the same conclusion: he likely wouldn’t be here at all. He can’t fathom it- not having known her- and his heart aches for his friend (because he does consider Sunghoon a friend now). 

There’s little to say, and even less he could extend as comfort. “What was her name?” he asks. 

Sunghoon sniffs once, shakes his head. “I don’t think they knew either. They called her Park, my surname.”

“Same as Jay’s,” slips off Jungwon’s tongue without a single thought. He immediately feels terrible; mentioning Jay while Sunghoon was referring to his deceased mother was certainly not appropriate timing for him to have no filter, but the other boy doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he looks thoughtful, and better. His eyes have cleared.  

Sunghoon asks him where he and his mom traveled before she died and Jungwon tells stories. The red (blood on the building, blood from his head, blood in the dirt) doesn’t fade but it does retreat from the forefront of his mind as he talks. He speaks enough that his eyelids begin to feel heavy and his tongue sits wrong in his mouth, but Sunghoon quietly encourages him to continue, commenting every couple minutes and listening attentively. 

“Did you ever do the- ah, what was the name-” Sunghoon wonders aloud, waving a hand vaguely- “blood drives? I don’t remember what they were actually called. They showed up all over, so I’m assuming you and your mom saw them.”

Jungwon nods at the last bit because indeed they did. Years ago, one of Unification’s last efforts to persuade outsiders to cooperate once the truth was already out were these drives. There was no point in Unification making the stations out to be anything they weren’t, so they were honest, for once. Blunt, actually. They needed outsider blood to stave off and potentially cure Oases sicknesses. All outsiders had to do was find a station and have their blood drawn, then packages of food, water, and supplies would be theirs in exchange. 

It worked for a while, supposedly. Those who were desperate to make it another week did what they had to do. But it got out that Uni soldiers were keeping records of those whose blood was especially valuable and tracking them down to capture them. The drives, like all of Unification’s other pathetic attempts to rectify with outsiders, failed with time. 

“Yeah, we saw a couple, but we avoided them. Mom wasn’t willing to risk it. I know Sunoo went, though, a few times. Jay did once too, after his sister was taken.”

“Hm,” Sunghoon hums, leaning forward to prop his jaw on his fist. “I was tempted to go because of the food, but I stayed away from them too.”

They talk a while longer, then fall into their usual silence. It’s a comforting pocket- as comforting as it can be- of their routine that will fade with sunrise. Sunghoon glances at the watch he snagged from a Uni soldier on one of their past raids and sighs. Jungwon doesn’t even bother looking at his. 

“‘Bout time?” he asks. Time to walk- Jungwon to the left, Sunghoon to the right. Sunghoon’s confirming smile is more of a grimace than anything. He leaves the ring first. 

Red bleeds black into Jungwon’s vision like it never receded at all. 

»

“Wonie.” Sujin’s soft call grabs Jungwon’s attention, pulling it back to her where she’s sitting next to him in the eatery. 

Before she’d wandered around the table from Mark’s side, Jungwon had been sitting quietly and feigning an act of eating his food. There’s a splash of red- a tomato- on the plate Taeyong grabbed for him earlier. It’s a different shade from that of the forest floor, of the street corner, of his dreams, but it’s still red. He doubts he’ll be able to eat it. 

Jungwon looks away from his fork at Sujin. She’s watching him, one hand curled in the bottom of the heavy tracking jacket he hasn’t shrugged out of yet, the other cradling her beloved fabric doll. 

“Hm?” 

“When am I gonna meet Jay?”

Jungwon stares at her. 

Of course she’s heard about him. All the boys know him, love him. Of course she’s heard stories of who he is, and his role here in the compound. But he’s not here, and he hasn’t been here. And she’s wondering when she’ll get to meet him. 

The others are preoccupied talking to each other, voices volleying easily back and forth across the table. No one seems to have heard what she said. Jungwon takes a deep breath, neck ticking to the side. He can handle this. He can. He will. 

“I don’t know, honey,” he says quietly. Sujin is as smart as she is curious for her young age. She picks up on things quickly. But Jungwon allows himself the small reassurance that she likely won’t understand the depth of sorrow behind his tone and answer. 

Sujin looks down at her doll for a moment in thought, wisps of dark hair falling over her cheeks. Mark and Taeyong are always tucking them mindlessly behind her ears, out of her face. 

Jungwon never knew the intensity of a child’s gaze on him until he met her. Her eyes flick up to his and stay there, unmoving. Not pressuring or expectant like those of an adult, but unwavering all the same.

“Is that why you’re sad?”

Jungwon cannot properly answer that; there are not enough words to say, there’s not enough time to describe. He hums again instead. 

“Mh.”

“Markie and Tae never say what happened to him.” It’s delivered in a petulant pout, and if they were talking about anything else, Jungwon may have smiled a little. She is so very young. 

“Well,” he stalls, more choked up than he realized. He gives himself time for the pressure at the base of his throat to ease up. “Jin, something… something bad happened.”

Sujin’s head cocks to the side a fraction, a frown forming on her face. 

“Why?”

Jungwon stiffens. He looks at the red on his plate. 

“Because I wasn’t there to save him.”

»

Jungwon opens the door to his room and Jay is sitting on the bed. 

His chin is tucked to his chest, his feet planted firmly on the floor. He doesn’t look up at the sound of Jungwon entering the room. 

Heart pounding, nerves spreading like wildfire in his veins, Jungwon wonders if it’s really him. He doesn’t know why the older would just be sitting here. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t look at him. But it… it is Jay. It’s his hair, his jawline, his shoulders, his hands. 

Jungwon stumbles over his own feet rushing forward. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, in front of him, wondering why- 

“Jay.” It can only be described as a whimper, but he doesn’t care. He crawls forward a bit more, nearly touching him now. “Jay, look at me. Please. Please, look at me.”

He does. Slowly. Jungwon’s heart seizes, eyes flicking over deep purples sitting high on his cheekbones and eyes sunken into graying skin and cuts running across his forehead and cheeks. His lip is split. His skin- it’s cracked. It’s all so unsettling- so wrong- that when Jungwon opens his mouth again only a squeak comes out. His hands are trembling, hovering two inches above the older’s thighs. 

“Jay-”

“Why weren’t you there?”

Jungwon’s limbs lock up at the harsh, brutal sting of Jay’s tone. That voice is not meant for him. It’s never been for him. 

The air dies in his throat as he processes the older’s words. Horror floods his system, a wholly disarming thing. 

“What?” he chokes out. Jay is looking at him like he doesn't know him, eyes cold. Cold. Jungwon reaches out for him still, hand going up to cup his cheek. He doesn’t get there. The yelp of pain that bursts out of him when Jay wrenches his wrist back takes him by surprise. He bites down on it, staring up at Jay helplessly, shocked tears springing to his eyes. 

The grip on his skin tightens sharply as Jay hauls him up from sitting on his haunches to his knees. It draws their faces closer together and for the first time in his life, Jungwon feels the overwhelming urge to pull away. He doesn’t, even though there’s a blatant warning to listen unfurling in his gut. Something’s wrong, he reasons with himself. He’s never like this. He’s never hurt me. He would never hurt me. 

But the snarl twisting on Jay’s features clashes so disturbingly with his innately gentle nature and it looks real. The alien lines on his face are deep set and resolute, extending past the physical impairments to seemingly make an intentional statement: he’s angry. He’s angry with Jungwon. The Jay in front of him is unreservedly hostile, and Jungwon’s been completely blindsided by this version of him he never imagined could even exist. 

Jay crowds further into his space and hisses out the same phrase for a second time, like it burns him, like he’s disgusted with it. 

“Why weren’t you there, Jungwon?”  

With his chest caving in, Jungwon starts shaking his head, mouth hanging open but no words coming forward. He doesn’t know what he’s denying, or why he’s trying to at all. He knows what Jay’s talking about. Still, hearing the accusation come from his mouth, facing the truth behind it- Jungwon is going to be sick. Now. 

But something’s happening to the older’s shirt and it distracts him enough to hold off a moment longer; he notices it out of the corner of his eye. It’s- he looks, and it’s blood. Soaking through the fabric at Jay’s side, unfurling in rivulets across his chest, his abdomen. 

Red. Making squelching sounds from how quickly it’s seeping out of him. Red. Red. Gurgling up out of his mouth. 

Jay starts hacking out coughs and Jungwon scrambles back gagging when wet spray hits him, warm and sticky. Bending at the waist, Jay starts groaning and- oh god, that doesn’t sound like him. This isn’t him. There’s red everywhere and Jay’s face is morphing into something it shouldn’t, something it’s not. Jungwon’s hand hits the ground as he pushes off the floor for leverage, but his fingers twinge awkwardly around something he didn’t know he was holding. 

He whips his head down, petrified hiccups bubbling in his throat, and sees a knife in his hand. Blue paint on the handle, white stenciling climbing up the length of it. 

Blue like the one he found on the forest floor that morning nine months ago, surrounded by red, red, red. 

»

Jungwon wakes up heaving and throws up over the side of the bed. 

The stench burns his nose and acid scrapes at his throat and for several horrible seconds, he can’t breathe. The sheets are caught up in his legs and wrapped tightly around his chest so he shoves at them frantically until they slip off the end of the bed. 

Red and blue, red, red, red. Jungwon needs to get up because he still can’t breathe. He drags himself to the end of the bed to avoid the vomit. He was right there, right there, right there. His foot catches on the bedding when he plants his food down and he goes sprawling across the floor. Bathroom. Get to the bathroom. It didn’t happen there. Bathroom isn’t red. 

Jungwon crawls because his head is swimming and he can’t get up. He runs his hand along the inside of the bathroom wall until he finds the light switch. Using the counter, he hauls himself up, then sticks his head under the sink until the cold water makes him remember he’s a person again. 

He straightens up, air finally filtering into his lungs. It should be a sweet thing, should be a relief. It’s not. Water droplets are running from his hair and face down his neck, slipping under his shirt, but he can’t reach the towel and he doesn’t care. Knees no longer able to support him, he crashes down to the floor and sits against the wall, chest rising and falling at a frenzied pace he doesn’t even attempt chasing after to regulate. 

Mind reconnected to his body now, Jungwon is unable to push it off any longer. The dream comes back to him in flashes of dead eyes and too-tight fingers on his wrist and blood. There’d been- there was so much blood. On their bed and their floor, all over Jungwon, all over the face that wasn’t Jay’s but soaking through hair that was his, and staining his jawline, and his shoulders, and his hands. 

All done at- at Jungwon’s hands. He’d been the one holding the knife after all. 

Jungwon dry heaves over the tile but there’s nothing left to come up. He knocks his head back against the wall, lips parting around anguished breaths and the only thing that makes sense is this:

It’s my fault. It’s my fault. 

It’s my fault. 

If I’d been there that night, I could’ve done something.

Why didn’t I go look for him when I didn’t spot him at the bottom of the stairs in that facility? Why didn’t I grab someone else to help Niki carry that man so I could go find him? Why didn’t I search for him immediately after returning to the compound? 

Why wasn’t I by his side?

Why wasn’t I there?

If I had been, we could’ve fought together. Whatever happened that night, we would’ve taken it on. Together. We may have won. He might- he might be here right now, if only I’d- 

And maybe it still would’ve gone wrong, but it hardly matters. It doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t have fucking mattered because I would’ve been there. I would’ve been with him. 

He was alone because I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. It was in my power to be there. I could’ve been there. Why wasn’t I there?

Jungwon curls in on himself and shakes. But the blue- the knife- that’s not true. That, out of all things, is not true. It’s not. I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t.  

I didn’t hurt him. 

But… didn’t he?

Jungwon’s spent enough time in denial. The birthing place of all his nightmares- it’s guilt. For all that he’s done (nothing), and all he didn’t do (anything). 

It’s true that the person in his dream wasn’t Jay. His Jay. But it was the truth. 

Why weren’t you there, Jungwon?

The night melts into red and blue, red, red, red. 

»

At breakfast the next morning, Heeseung and Jake tell everyone they’ve officially gotten together. They’d spent the night talking, sorting things out. Their feelings have always been there, they just needed to have the conversation. 

Jungwon didn’t tell anyone what happened the night before, and he’s glad. The attention is entirely focused on his two older friends, not him. He can get away with pushing the food around on his plate and not transferring a single bite to his mouth. He can get away with not masking his facial expressions- ugly tense bitter guilty guilty guilty. He can get away with putting on airs that he doesn’t feel trapped in this underground bunker that doesn’t feel like home anymore. 

The trackers gather up their necessities and head out. Heeseung and Jake linger at the back of the group. With a teasing swipe, Jake tries snatching the weapon strapped to Heeseung’s thigh. Heeseung catches his hand before he can get away with it. They look at each other for a second, then Jake starts laughing- soft- and Heeseung’s stoic act cracks when he breaks into a smile- gentle. He swoops down and they’re kissing and Jake’s grinning into it and he’s tipping forward- 

Jungwon turns his head away, facing the stretch of the forest ahead. Sunghoon is next to him. Jungwon does not look to see if he’s watching him. Instead he tells himself he’s going to focus today. He’s going to. He has to. 

And he tries to get away with acting like he’s not swallowing down bile rising up like a tempest in his throat. 

»

They find a facility an hour before the sun sets. 

The trek back to the compound gives way to nightfall, but Jungwon is pointedly vocal for the first time in several weeks of their searching. He pushes them. Hard. 

When they get back it’s nearly eight and Taeyong doubts if they'll be able to make the four hour hike out there and back before the sun rises, effectively ruining their cover. Jungwon pushes, pushes. It’s agreed, after too much wasted time (wasting, wasting, he could be there, he might be there) that leaving the outsiders trapped there to suffer any more than they have to isn’t a decision they could make in good conscience. 

They go. 

Jungwon’s vision tunnels for the rest of the night, effectively blocking out the blue, the red, the dreams. He can’t help it- hope, potent and gripping, seizes him. He fights his way into the facility with a vigor he hasn’t experienced since the last one they found five weeks ago. 

His steps echo on the stairs to the lower level with the unyielding hurry of his pace. The halls unfurl in both directions, unexplored. Unknown. Jungwon’s heartbeat skyrockets, and he runs. 

But with every window he passes, the ache digs deeper, and at the end of it, every room holds a face he doesn’t know. 

Nine months. Five facilities. And Jay’s not here either. 

The previous clarity that allowed Jungwon to focus blurs into a smeared kaleidoscope of colors and movement and sound. He goes back up the stairs, where the bloodbath is still raging on. His knives have never felt so right in his hands. His aim has never been better. 

»

Jungwon knows that something’s wrong when Niki tells him he needs to leave. 

The med wing is busy, and loud. The noise is kind of making Jungwon’s ears ring, but he’s trying to push through enough to still be of help. There are dozens of rescued outsiders this time around. Those who are better off need food, water, blankets, clothes. The more seriously injured need clean bandages and new bed sheets and medical attention. Jungwon knows that, and it’s the only thing he knows right now, so he tries to keep functioning. Then he trips over the thin leg of a tray of some kind and it tips over, scattering metal pieces across the floor. Blearily, he goes to stoop down and clean them up, but someone catches him by the arm and pulls him upright. 

“-won. Jungwon.”

He blinks at the chest in front of him. He raises his head. It’s Niki, eyebrows drawn together. Jungwon can’t make out what his expression means. 

Why is it so loud in here? He gazes at the bustling bodies and beds to his right, wondering. The noise is never this bad.

“Hey,” Niki says loudly, suddenly. Jungwon’s eyes snap back to his, zeroing in. Niki’s hand is clamped on his shoulder and he only recognizes it now, when the younger squeezes. “You need to leave.”

Jungwon stares at him. Not really computing, certainly not responding. Niki’s inhale is rough, scraping, and that’s alarming enough on its own. Jungwon focuses on him and his body language with all his might. Niki is rarely distressed. He keeps his cool, takes everything as it comes. So the fact that something is bothering him makes Jungwon’s protective instincts that never faded from all those years ago bob back up to the surface. 

“You need to leave,” Niki repeats, firmness fastened to the words this time. “Go to your room. Wash up. I’ll be there. Okay?”

Jungwon doesn’t understand why he’s being sent away, but he goes, only because he doesn’t know what he could say to ease Niki’s mind otherwise, and because the noise level has steadily been rising and is unbearable at this point, weighing down on his head like a sack of bricks. 

The halls are fuzzy from the overhead lighting and the walls are in the wrong places. Jungwon keeps bumping into them. Go to your room. 

He finally reaches it, fingers grappling at the doorknob. He twists, gets inside on unsteady feet. Only when he’s alone in the solace of the room, when the shocking blankness of quiet comes rushing in, does Jungwon realize how fucking exhausted he is. He tries to remember beyond ascending the stairs to the main level in the facility, but that’s all that comes to mind. The aftermath of it is muddled by a murkiness Jungwon doesn’t want to delve into right now. He’d usually feel frustrated by this block in his memory, but he’s just too tired. 

Bone-deep weariness is sucking the life right out of him. All he wants to do is sit down. Right here on the floor would be a nice spot, even, but he remembers what Niki told him- Wash up- and shuffles over to the bathroom instead. His friend must’ve wanted him to do it for a reason, so he will because he’s still trying for them. For Niki. 

Turning on the light reveals red. 

Jungwon freezes, staring at himself, at… red. 

The red in his dreams is on him. On him. On his shirt, his pants. His face. His arms. His hands. 

The recollection clicks back into that hollow space in his brain like his nightmares: clearly. Too clearly. Jungwon remembers killing them now- the soldiers. He was more ruthless tonight than ever before. He made sure it wouldn’t be quick. He made sure it hurt. 

And Jungwon knows damn well those soldiers don’t deserve his mercy. They don’t deserve to die a peaceful death. They don’t deserve to die easily either. But that doesn’t dispel the fact that Jungwon is drenched and splattered and painted in red (red, red) because of what he did tonight. 

He doesn’t cry- that doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t feel much of anything at all, actually. He just looks at the mirror until he remembers he’s supposed to clean up. 

With methodical movements, Jungwon unlaces his boots and turns on the shower. He doesn’t glance at his reflection again before getting in, clothes and all. They’re filthy. Stained. They need to be washed with him. He sits down on the floor of the shower because his legs are tired and his feet are tired and he is tired. Then he rubs. 

He rubs at his arms until coppery crimson swirls down the drain. He rubs at his clothes until the fabric chafes at his skin. He’ll wash them properly later. But maybe he’ll just burn them instead, since they'll never be clean enough to wear again. 

He rubs at his neck and face until his collarbones and cheeks are sore because he’d seen splatters there and they don’t belong. His hair is a mess of tangles and filth. Jungwon doesn’t know if there’s red in it, but there is. There has to be, it’s all over him. 

Actually, he thinks as he’s lathering soap over his scalp for the third time, it might be under his skin. Nameless, faceless people’s red becoming a part of his own. Pumping through his veins. Filling up his lungs. 

Jungwon fumbles back so he’s not sitting directly under the spray anymore and faces the part of himself he’s avoided thus far. His hands. 

His hands that brought about suffering tonight. His hands that killed. His hands that pushed off the brick building as he turned and left his mother to hide. His hands that wasted time opening doors in the compound searching for Jay when he knew he wasn’t there. His hands that picked up the blue knife left behind in the dirt of the forest floor.

His hands that have hurt Jay in his dreams. 

His hands that are red, red, red. 

Jungwon rubs until his skin is raw and still keeps at it. Maybe if he cleans enough he’ll forget the guilt for a blissful moment. Maybe he’ll forget the way dream-Jay had been glaring at him, right before he asked the question Jungwon has been beating himself up over all along. Maybe he’ll forget how ashamed he is that he felt nothing but envy and resentment this morning when he found out two of the people he cares for most get to have what he can’t. What he was never brave enough to pursue when he could. 

There’s bitterness, confusion, regret, and red for a while. Then his arms fall limp at his sides and there is nothing. 

Niki’s words float into that chasm of nothingness at some point. I’ll be there. Jungwon hasn’t desired company in a long time, but right now, he wants. He wants Jay. He can’t have him. So he just wants someone. He wants comfort. He wants security. He wants to feel safe for one goddamn second. He wants.  

I’ll be there. Okay?

Okay , Jungwon thinks. He leans his temple against the wall and closes his heavy eyes to wait. 

»

Niki is squatting next to him in the shower. He’s already turned the water off- or he must’ve. He’s dry. Jungwon is so cold. Niki looks every bit the same as when he told Jungwon to leave the med wing: bothered by something Jungwon isn’t grasping. Why is he so cold?

He thinks Niki’s talking to him, but he really can’t understand him- why can’t he hear?- so he just goes along when there are arms tugging at his and hands slipping around his torso to drag him up, up, up. Onto his feet. Out of the shower. 

There’s new, dry clothes and less harsh lighting and a lot of quiet. Niki’s not talking anymore; his lips are taut and his mouth isn’t moving. Jungwon sits on the edge of the bed (right where Jay was right here right here) and lets Niki do this and that, brain misplaced. He doesn’t think his heart is beating anymore. He certainly can’t feel it. Besides, this isn’t what being alive is like. 

Niki stops, suddenly, and his breaths stop and his hands stop. A distant vestige of something like concern laps against the coast somewhere inside Jungwon, but he can’t make out the expression on Niki’s face. Rather, he’s lost on why it’s there, or how it’s suitable for this particular moment. 

There are faint touches where his hands and wrists and arms used to be. Jungwon is fairly sure he doesn’t make any noise but maybe he does. The touch is there and it’s not. It hurts and it doesn’t. 

When Niki climbs onto the bed behind him, presumably to try and get him to lay down, Jungwon doesn’t protest. He knows he’s supposed to so he can avoid sleeping, but he’s still cold and he’s so tired and his mind is so blank. No dreams will come. He doesn’t think so, at least. 

Niki doesn’t lay down like Jungwon expected him to. He sits up against the headboard and guides Jungwon’s head to rest on his lap. Jungwon’s body heavies, limbs weighing down and sinking into the mattress, and he remembers, staring at the ceiling, that he’s done this before. In the forest, with green above him and dirt below him. With Jay. 

Niki starts carding gentle fingers through Jungwon’s hair and Jungwon almost, almost smiles. Or maybe it’s a sob that never leaves the jumbled nest of suppressed emotion tangled up in his lungs. Because a million lifetimes ago, when Jungwon was thirteen and Niki was eleven, Jungwon would pull him close at nightfall and do the exact same thing to him, promising that nothing, nothing, nothing would hurt him while he slept. Jungwon was there. Jungwon would watch over him. 

“It’s okay,” Niki murmurs, tone thick and garbled around- around something. He might be thinking about the same memories. Remembering. “You’re okay. Sleep.” 

Few things are clear right now, but Jungwon knows he doesn’t imagine the tremor in Niki’s voice. Sweet, precious Niki, who’s grown up from the boy who needed to be held while he slept to the young man who’s here, doing his best to drag Jungwon out of the dark place and pick up the pieces. 

Jungwon knows Niki, and Niki rarely sounds like this. Right before the draw of unconsciousness pulls him under velvet waves, Jungwon looks up at him.

There’s something wet on his cheeks, but Jungwon doesn’t know why. He shuts his eyes. 

Chapter Text

In the morning, Niki is still there. 

Dark shadows hang under his eyes, deep stretching bags that don’t belong on his face. Jungwon sits up and stares at him- at them- and remorse twists like a dagger in the pit of his stomach. He knows that if Niki slept at all, it wasn’t enough to amount to anything. 

He’s trying to think of something to say, last night rushing in as quickly as he fell asleep. There isn’t any room to be embarrassed- this is Niki, after all- but the shame is so potent he could choke on it. He was in a wreck of a state last night, his mind in shambles, and Niki shouldn’t have had to follow him here, drag him out of the shower, wrestle him into different clothes, and coddle his pathetic form sideways just so he’d go to damn sleep. Jungwon wonders if it was selfish- how badly he’d wanted him to come anyway.

“Stop,” Niki says, nudging Jungwon with his ankle. Jungwon shoots him a quizzical look. Niki looks steadily back. “Whatever you’re beating yourself up over right now. Stop.”

Jungwon doesn’t respond, caught. Niki must perceive his reaction as one of offense, though, because his demeanor softens, as does the firm expression on his face. He leans forward (from the headboard, which means he didn’t move all night, which makes Jungwon’s stomach roll) so he’s a little closer, eyes flicking down to Jungwon’s hands for a second. Jungwon remembers red, red and raw skin that turned into red. And Niki saw it, all of it. Saw him like that. He’s supposed to be the strong one. Strong for Niki. 

“You’re blaming yourself,” Niki mutters gently. It’s not a shot in the dark; he’s studying Jungwon intently with knowing eyes. He’s not guessing at all. Jungwon freezes as an uneasy chill zips up his spine. 

Unaware of the cavern he just blew open in Jungwon’s chest, Niki adds, “Yeah?”

The black hole inside Jungwon is a yawning cave, swallowing up his heart and any sense of confidence he had that he could hold all of this together. Why did he think his friends wouldn’t catch on? Of course they’re aware that he blames himself for Jay’s capture- he had the power to stop it if only he’d been there. And now they’re going to blame him too. They should. Jungwon deserves it, but he didn’t think it’d be today. Right now. No matter how much guilt he’s processed internally, he’s not ready to face his friends’ disappointment. Niki’s disappointment. 

And Niki knows. Jungwon doesn’t respond again- this time he can’t- but his breath catches and his eyelids flutter and all these signs combined give him away. 

“Okay.” Niki gives an understanding nod. He doesn’t look mad, why the fuck isn’t he- 

“But I was going to come last night no matter what.”

Jungwon gawks at his younger friend until realization dawns on him. Oh. 

You’re blaming yourself. Yeah? Not regarding Jay. Regarding last night. Regarding Niki needing to come help him. 

Jungwon tries to school his expression and heaves in a mostly silent deep breath. He thinks his hands are shaking. Niki’s talking again. 

“If Sunoo didn’t get caught up in the med wing he would’ve come too. So stop telling yourself you didn’t deserve me being here, or that you’re a burden, or that this makes you pathetic, or whatever else you’re thinking about. Because it’s not true.” 

The conviction in Niki’s eyes burns bright like a fire. 

“I care about you, and I’m gonna fucking be here. That’s not a conditional thing- that's an always thing.” 

It’s the most serious Jungwon has ever heard him sound. It’s everything. It’s too much. 

Niki’s eyes drift down to Jungwon’s hands again, but stay this time, and Jungwon sits, reeling helplessly. 

It doesn't seem like Niki expects him to, but he can’t find his voice. This reassurance that Niki has extended to him- he’s incapable of returning it. He can pretend all he wants, but he knows that even if Niki asked for his help right now, he wouldn’t be able to properly tend to his needs. If Niki needed Jungwon by his side, Jungwon would sure as hell be there, but he wouldn’t be there. Another echo of failure in this mess. 

“You scared me last night.” 

It’s hardly louder than a breath, but Jungwon still cringes at the vulnerability in Niki’s voice. The disturbing memory of last night is a thinly veiled horror written all over his face, and Jungwon feels like he needs to apologize. He should. He can’t imagine how he must’ve looked. It had to have been an absolute shock to Niki, after Jungwon’s many months of avoiding his- and everyone else's- advances to help. 

There’s a soreness in Jungwon’s hands that wasn’t present last night, when his nerves were alight and he couldn’t feel anything at all. He hasn’t looked down at them yet and he’s not planning to anytime soon. He doesn’t want to see what he did to himself. 

“Do you feel any better?” Niki asks. 

Jungwon considers the question for a moment, then realizes there’s nothing he could say that would be both truthful and easy for his friend to hear. A thick fog hangs over his mind, coating the functions and processes he knows are supposed to be in working order, but aren’t. He didn’t dream last night, though there’s no triumph in that. There’s just a blankness stretching from yesterday to today- no transition period. It’s all rolled over, it’s all the same. The nightmares. The guilt. The red. 

Still, he nods. Niki needs him to. 

“I’m better,” he insists right after that, aiming to quell the doubt plainly displayed on Niki’s face. 

Niki doesn’t move, gaze still trained on him, so Jungwon doesn’t move either. The air isn’t tense, but charged with solemnity. Jungwon feels that Niki may keep trying to make sure he’s okay, which is understandable; he would do the same if their roles were reversed. There’s no time for it though. His priorities are clicking back into place and the red has already returned. He speaks up before Niki has the chance to. 

“What time is it?” He’d taken off his watch before showering, by some ridiculous notion- given his state of mind then- that he didn’t want to ruin it. It’s probably covered in blood. The counter too. 

Niki stares at him blankly for a second, but reluctantly obliges to answering him by glancing at his wrist. “Nearly nine.” 

Late. Late, late, fuck, we’re late. 

Right. They probably didn’t get back from the facility until five or six in the morning. Jungwon doesn’t know when Niki came to the room, but those few hours of sleep seem terribly, horribly wasteful. And they just raided last night which means… shit. 

Jungwon feels his insides wilting. At the rate they’ve been discovering facilities in past months, it could take them weeks to find another. Weeks to find another he likely won't be in. Because he wasn’t there last night. And he wasn’t in the one before. Or the one before. Or the one before that- 

Discouraged is not a big enough word. Not finding him, not having him, it’s like torture that recycles itself over and over and never ends. It’s like being held underwater, unable to breathe. It’s like the earth falling away from the sun. 

If Jungwon were any less desperate, he might lay right back down on the bed. If he knew what was good for him, he might rest until he regained enough energy to keep running, searching, fighting. 

But he tells Niki that they need to get going, and they get up from the bed and they go. 

»

The day is excruciating in the way only an uneventful one can be. 

With their late start, and the fact that they just found a facility yesterday, a heaviness hangs over the tracking team as they hike through the forest. Of course, they come up with nothing. It’s snowed during the night several nights in a row now; trekking through all the buildup on the ground is twice the work they usually put in just to walk. The inevitable setting of the sun on the bleak day puts even more of a damper on everyone’s lethargic movements. 

But Jungwon doesn’t want to turn back. Not yet. Not ever. 

They’re several miles out from the compound when the crescent moon starts rising over the forest. The land is blanketed in darkness and there’s nothing, nothing, nothing. Jungwon hears the other boys talking amongst themselves, discussing things. They weren’t expecting this much snow. They don’t have enough supplies with them to stay the night out here. It’s already freezing. The temperature is only going to drop. They need to go back. 

They’ve stopped, huddled up in a pack against the wind and Jungwon’s breath vaporizes in the air before him as he turns away. Keeps walking, steps a fumbling, fitful thing. 

His hands burn fiercely as the biting chill stings his raw flesh. It’s a painstaking reminder of the gloves in his pockets. Of last night. Of how he failed then too. With red everywhere. With Niki. With the nightmares at the forefront of everything, clouding his judgment. Guilt is an ugly, destructive thing, and Jungwon no longer has control over letting it eat up his insides; he probably hasn’t since the moment he realized Jay was gone. 

The only thing he does have control over anymore is looking for him. Wasting more moments,  piling them on top of the thousands already thrown to the wind, just to go back and be comfortable while Jay’s still out here- it’s unthinkable. The audacity of it is so revolting that Jungwon recoils into himself, shoulders hunching up. 

He’s so fucking tired of wasting time. He’s tired of this useless shell of a body he’s trapped in, feeling nothing but disgust with himself and a distress so layered and impenetrable he can hardly function outside of this sole focus. 

This, and the snow, and the guilt, and the red. 

He’s been trudging along for ages when something latches onto his arm. He doesn’t have time to process or panic before he’s whirled about, boots digging into slush and snow and muck awkwardly with the sudden jolt. 

Slowly, Jungwon realizes it’s Niki’s face before him, and Niki’s fingers wrapped around his bicep. A spitting image of the night before. The forest is tilting a little. Swaying on his feet, Jungwon catches a glimpse of the view over Niki’s shoulder, and startles. The rest of the boys are staring after them silently just a few yards away, mouths set in thin lines that Jungwon knows represent pity but refuses to acknowledge. 

“Let m’go,” he slurs, wondering what’s stuck in his throat, and why his voice didn’t sound as urgent as he needed it to. Why he’s been working so hard only to put this little distance between them. Why his legs feel so weak. Why the rest of his body is heavier than it’s ever been. Why the hell he can’t fucking breathe. 

“No,” Niki tells him. Jungwon tries to slip his arm out of the younger’s hold so he can keep walking, but Niki is holding him back, pulling him back. Jungwon looks him straight in the face, mustering all his focus to stand his ground and not succumb to the sudden urge to sit down instead. 

“Let go of me, Nik.”

Niki tugs him forward, hard. “No. We’re going back.” 

The younger boy is exhausted, probably. Hungry. Cold. Not in the right state to be dealing with Jungwon in the most gentle or accommodating of ways. Jungwon doesn’t want gentle anyway. He wants to make Niki mad. He wants to make him so mad that he’ll leave him out here. Then, Jungwon wins. He can keep looking. He’ll find Jay, with or without help. He’ll stop wasting time. He’ll find him. He’ll find him. 

So Jungwon yanks his arm back to his body, harder. A flash of anger cracks across Niki’s expression. 

“You go back,” Jungwon seethes. The air rushes out of his lungs with it. He swallows hard as his vision tilts again. “I’m going to keep looking,” he recovers, hoping his delivery packs the same punch as the first time. 

A deep breath audibly rattles Niki’s system. He flexes his fingers on Jungwon’s arm, unyielding. Getting a better grip on him. 

“Jungwon,” he says, voice gruff. He’s losing his patience. “We don’t have what we need. It’s too cold- we’ll freeze if we stay out here much longer, alright? We have to go back and you have to come with us. You are not okay right now. And you don’t need to be alone. You need to eat. You need to sleep.”

The fight’s draining out of Jungwon. He scrambles to get it back, to hold onto it, but it’s slipping out of his fingers like water.

“I slept last night,” he croaks. 

“That wasn’t sleep!” Niki exclaims. Jungwon doesn’t know why the younger’s trying to reason with him; even though he’s losing the words to say, he’s not going back. “That was your brain shutting off after a breakdown.” 

Jungwon shakes his head because even if that were true (he doesn’t remember getting any rest and his body certainly doesn't recall it either), it wouldn’t matter. He doesn’t understand why Niki won’t let him go. He’s supposed to. It’s all he can do. He can’t let this be taken away from him too. 

“I know you’re scared. I am too, okay?” Niki says, and oh god, his voice is breaking. There’s turmoil crinkling around his eyes where irritation was just a moment ago. He looks like he’s going to cry. “I know you want to find him. I do too. But tonight’s not the night.”

Niki’s eyes are glassy and his body language screams nothing but an unguarded plea. Jungwon clenches his jaw, resolve hardening. He can’t afford to sway, not now, even if it would erase this heartbreaking expression from Niki’s face. He can’t afford to waste any more time. 

“Niki. Let go of me.” 

The boy looks equal parts older than he is and as young as he is with moonlight illuminating the planes of his face. He looks like this is tearing him apart from the inside out. But just like last night, and this morning too, he doesn’t waver. He meets Jungwon where he’s at, matching his stance, his tone. His anger. 

“I’m trying to be understanding, Jungwon. I really am.” Deliberately slow, as if Jungwon wouldn’t be able process what he was saying, and how he meant it, if he talked any other way. “I’m sure I don’t fully get it- all the things you’re going through.”

There’s an awful, stretching silence, and Jungwon watches Niki make the decision with muted dread. He’s about to go there- the unspoken reality that’s always with their group but never touched on: Jungwon’s not the only one struggling with Jay’s absence. Actually, he makes everyone else’s lives harder, at times. He’s always felt conflicted when dwelling on the topic though, convinced in his selfish, selfish mind that it’s different for him. The others miss him as a friend, but for Jungwon, Jay is- he’s-

Jungwon feels his eyes narrowing in a glare, daring Niki to just go ahead and fucking say it, even as his chest tightens with anxiety. And it’s too much. There’s too much tension here, between them, too much emotion, and Niki has never handled conflict like this lightly. 

“But we fucking lost him too,” he snaps, and something snaps inside Jungwon. 

He makes a strangled noise and thrashes to wrestle out of Niki’s grip, but the younger simply moves with him, raising his voice. “You are not the only one hurting. You are not the only one who’d do anything to get him back. We don’t have the shit we need to stay out here and we’re all exhausted and I can’t let you go off by yourself like this so please, cut me some slack and cooperate and come home!” 

Guilt and fury. Niki’s right. But Jungwon has to win. He fists stiff fingers in Niki’s jacket, jostling him as he gets in his face and does what he needs to. He’ll win soon. He will win. Just a little more, and Niki will leave. Niki will leave him. 

“Get it through your fucking head that that hellhole is not my home!” he spits, voice like ice, like venom. “He’s not there and all we do is waste time and I’m not going back- I won’t-”

A blur of movement as Niki reaches for him with his free hand to calm, to hold. To take him back. 

Jungwon panics. 

And then he’s sitting in the snow. 

Distantly, he recalls shouting, “Fuck off!” His head is pounding. Everything is quiet. 

Mouth agape, hands frozen in mid-air, he raises his chin ever so slowly to look up at Niki. The younger boy’s still standing, staring at him like he’s never seen him before. Stunned. 

The eerie silence of the semidarkness roars in Jungwon’s ears and he realizes what he’s done. He shoved Niki. He shoved at his chest so hard in his outburst that Niki actually let him go and Jungwon stumbled over his own leaden feet backing away with the force. His body throbs from the jarring drop to the ground. It’s a cold, striking slap to the face. 

He shoved Niki. He shoved him. 

The fog rolls out and physical realities flood in to replace it. His body is aching- pulsing- and a headache is grinding into his skull and his hands are pins and needles. There’s wet snow bleeding into his clothes. He’s not wearing enough layers. He hasn’t eaten since before the raid- whenever that was. He is so fucking tired. 

And he’s done. The night is done. He took this too far and Niki is right and no amount of guilt will ever surmount to the regret he knows he will feel when he processes that he touched Niki like that- his youngest friend whom he’s known the longest. Whom he’s supposed to protect. 

He’s done, and he’s failing Jay. Again. Again. Because even if the others were angry enough to let him go after what just happened, he’s not strong enough to. 

Jungwon loses himself to this helplessness. 

Leave me here. I’ll catch my breath. Leave me. If I sit long enough I can get up. Keep going. Leave me here. Leave me. Leave me. 

Someone is shaking him. Niki. His touch is so careful now. Jungwon tips his head back, and only then realizes he’s crying. Hitching sobs crawl out of his chest, bursting from that tangled nest deep inside him that he’s kept carefully woven together for quite some time. 

Please just fucking leave me. 

Niki cups a hand around Jungwon’s neck, gripping, trying to ground him. Whether it’s for Jungwon alone or himself too, though, is unclear; the boy’s bottom lip is trembling. 

“Not gonna leave you,” he says thickly, and Jungwon chokes on the next sob that rumbles out of him. He shoved him. He got in his face and cursed at him and pushed him, yet there’s still so much certitude in Niki’s tone. Like Jungwon didn’t lash out at him at all. Like it’s a given that he would stay, no matter what Jungwon did. 

Jungwon shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. It’s a testament to his selfishness, how quickly the tides have turned. How easily he has been coerced. A minute ago he wanted nothing more than to be alone. Now, he wants Niki here. He doesn’t want to be left alone, he wants them all by his side as they go on to find Jay. 

But they don’t want to go on. They want to go home. 

And not being left means leaving Jay. Not going on means failing Jay another night. Another morning. Another day. 

Jungwon thinks he says, “Please.” 

But Niki’s saying, “We’re not gonna leave you,” over and over again. Jungwon can’t breathe. 

We. 

Someone is kneeling in the snow next to him. Heeseung. Jungwon doesn’t know when he got there. His hands are hovering and fluttering about. Jungwon has never seen him look frantic a day in his life. Jungwon’s legs are numb. He drags them up out of the snow and pulls them closer to himself; Heeseung helps. Everything is wet. Cold. Jungwon can’t breathe. 

Someone is unzipping Jungwon's outer jacket, placing their hand flat on his chest. Jake. 

“Breathe,” he instructs. His voice is strained, but Jungwon’s vision is so blurry now he can’t see the older’s facial expression. “Hey, hey. You’ve gotta breathe, Jungwon. Breathe.”

He won’t- he can’t- there’s no room for it. Sobs are taking up all the space in his lungs. And he hasn’t cried in a long, long time. It seems his body is hellbent on making up for lost chances. 

They sit in the snow, holding onto each other. Mark and Sunghoon too. The wind blows mercilessly, and they shiver, chilled to the bone, together. Together, physically. Technically. 

But Jungwon is alone. 

He’s been holding off thinking about the Unthinkable since the moment he realized Jay was gone. He’s walked until his heels bled and gone without sleep for days and forgotten to eat for even longer. He’s worked and worked and worked so that he never had the time to break down like this. To consider This. 

But he knows. He knows how long it’s been. He knows how many months people typically survive in facilities before the damage is done. Before their bodies give up on them. Before they die. 

Even the strongest. Even…

And it’s not that they’re just soon approaching that period of time- no. They’ve passed it. Jungwon squeezes his eyes shut and cries out until there’s nothing left in his lungs at all, the forest echoing with the sound of his grief. Grief. For the first time, he grieves. Mourns, knowing it’s been too long. 

The gamble for Jay’s life is no longer in their favor. 

»

Sunoo has showered recently. Jungwon knows he hates being in the room without being clean after a full day of blood and dirty bandages and alcohol rubs. He’s sitting on the bed with wet hair when Niki all but drags Jungwon in with him. Sunoo’s face falls. He gets up. 

Jungwon breaks down. 

His body can’t take it, not again. He’s running too low on everything he needs to function properly, but he can’t stop crying. The harsh breathing and constant stream of tears deplete him of more and more energy; he can feel it. It should be scary that he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t so it isn’t. 

Sunoo cradles his head to his chest like a child. Jungwon doesn’t think about anything except that he can’t breathe through his stuffy nose. There’s snot everwhere. His eyes are swollen and his cheeks are puffy. 

At some point, he gets into dry clothes. 

At some point, he talks. He doesn’t know if he’s articulating enough for the boys to understand him, but it’s not for them anyway. It’s his fault. It’s his fault. 

At some point, Sunoo tells him that it’s not. Brushes his hair back from his clammy forehead. Not your mother. Brushing his tears away. Not your nightmares. Holding his cheeks. And certainly not Jay. Not Jay. Jungwon does not believe him. 

At some point, the tears stop and the world stops too. Nothing exists. Sunoo is lying down and Jungwon is tucked into his side, head resting on his outstretched arm. Jungwon doesn’t know how long it’s been since time is conceptual, but Sunoo’s eyes are closed. 

Jungwon remembers. 

He reaches behind himself in the dark, finding Niki’s fingers. The younger adjusts his hand to fit into his despite the slightly uncomfortable angle. 

“Nik,” Jungwon whispers, the mere vibration scratching at his throat. “I’m sorry.” His voice is low and heavy, and he intends the apology for so much more than just the way he’d pushed him tonight. He needs Niki to know that. Someday, he’ll make sure Niki knows that, but this is all he can manage for now. “I’m so sorry.”

Niki shifts closer. “Already forgiven.”

Jungwon does not deserve that. 

“Now you have to forgive yourself.”

If Jungwon hadn’t already spent all of his tears, that would’ve done it. How could he? What purpose would forgiving himself serve when Jay would still be missing? 

It’s quiet from then on. Niki’s breathing settles eventually and his hold on Jungwon’s hand slackens when he falls asleep. Jungwon stares into the darkness until he falls asleep too.

 »

Jungwon wakes up in the dark. He’s warm. 

It takes several moments for him to gather his bearings, but when he does, it’s his forehead is pressed to Jay’s back. It’s the older boy laying on his side, turned away from him. Jungwon must’ve curled into him in the night. 

Slowly, mindful of the jostling, Jungwon draws his arm out from where it’d been tucked around himself. Jay doesn’t stir. 

Hesitantly, Jungwon reaches a hand out. Then his fingers come in contact with the firmness of Jay’s back and he stops hesitating. He draws gentle shapes onto the older’s worn shirt, over relaxed muscles and the bumps of his spine. His warmth bleeds through to meet Jungwon’s fingertips. 

Jungwon doesn’t want to disturb Jay’s rest, but a glance at his watch confirms they’ll need to get up soon anyway, so he continues. Because he can, and because he’s not so much a fool to think Jay would mind. Jay is warm, and Jungwon’s not so much a fool to think he doesn’t want to be surrounded by it all the time. 

Jay’s ribs suddenly expand under his touch in a deep breath and Jungwon pauses in his ministrations, only for a second. Jay makes a pleased little sound when he continues. Jungwon swallows. Forces his neck to relax where it’d tensed up against the pillow. It’s all so achingly intimate. 

Jay finally says, “Stealin’ my hobby, hm?” 

Jungwon has heard his voice like this- rough, sleepy- hundreds of times and it still catches him off guard. Jungwon pokes him in the side. “What’re you talking about?” 

Jay huffs out a chuckle as he rolls over, moving about until they’re facing each other. Without preamble, he pulls Jungwon into his chest. Despite the dim lighting, Jungwon can see that his eyes are still closed. 

“Doodling,” Jay answers. He can’t see the fond smile that tugs at Jungwon’s mouth as he thinks of the older’s bent frame when he paints. 

“Jay,” Jungwon says when the older boy’s breathing evens out again. He nudges him with his forehead. “Jay.” 

The second call gets a noncommittal grunt out of him. “We’ve gotta get up.”

When Jay doesn’t respond, Jungwon tries to roll out of his hold. Jay draws him right back in, nuzzling his chin against the top of Jungwon’s head once Jungwon’s cheek is pressed to his chest again. 

“Soon,” Jay murmurs.

They really don’t have that much time, and Jungwon is the leader of their tracking team for god’s sake, but Jay starts humming a lazy tune that signals he’s not going back to sleep anyway, and he starts drawing shapes on Jungwon’s bare arm. 

Jungwon doesn’t say anything else because he doesn’t want to. He smiles to himself, and closes his eyes. 

(Some part of Jungwon’s subconscious waits with bated breath for the memory to twist into something ugly and red, but the time doesn’t come. 

For a while, he floats.)

»

Jungwon wakes up in the dark. He’s warm. It's suffocating. 

Trapped, his mind whispers, then screams. 

But Jungwon reigns in the blind hysteria before it can get away from him and focuses. He recognizes that two bodies are cocooned around his own. He knows them. An arm draped over his torso. One of his hands clasped within another’s. 

Niki’s and Sunoo’s body heat is overwhelming now like it wasn’t last night. Jungwon weighs his options, but ultimately decides the possibility of waking them up by adjusting is worth the risk. Carefully as he can, he lets go of Niki’s hand and then sits up, displacing Sunoo’s arm in the process. He waits for them to move, but neither of them do. 

The recent dream- or memory, actually- is like a hug. It wraps around Jungwon and holds him and he’s able to bask in it for a few moments before it starts to not feel so good. It’s not real. It was. But not anymore. 

Jungwon drags his knees up to his chest and rests his forehead on them. Some of yesterday is a blur, but the majority of it sticks out in his mind with striking clarity. Moving without feeling anything save the ever-present sting in his hands. Rushing to get out of the compound, worrying about how much daylight they’d already lost. Hardly registering the cold landscape passing by until the sun slipped beneath the horizon and his time was up. Shoving Niki. Crying. 

Jungwon can’t be in this room anymore.

He manages to escape off the end of the bed without shifting the boys too much. On the floor, he peers through the dark at them, limbs locked with tension, but they still don’t wake. Dressing in his discarded jackets and stuffing his feet into his still-damp boots is easy. Slipping out the door without glancing back is easier. 

They’ll be upset with him for already being gone when they wake, but that’s a battle he’ll just have to fight later on. 

»

The air outside the compound is still and quiet. Cold. As always, Jungwon can feel the bitter freeze for the first mile. As always, it settles into numbness after that. 

He walks, trying to convince himself that he’s not thinking about anything at all. 

But Jay’s back is there, pressed to his forehead. Jay’s laugh is there. His fingertips are grazing over Jungwon’s arm, drawing shapes and meaningless lines. He’s mumbling and he’s not making much sense and his eyes are closed. Jungwon’s skin is erupting with goosebumps. 

Dwelling on this is better than the red, at least, but- maybe it’s not. Jungwon aches for him, and that’s not something he can push from his mind. He’s drowning in grief that he can’t touch him (that he might not ever be able to again). He’s guilty that he’s thinking about it at all, while Jay’s lost, suffering. 

He thinks if their positions were flipped, Jay would’ve been more focused. Jay wouldn’t have rested. Jay would’ve already found him by now. 

So when Jungwon treks up the hill through the snow and looks at the spot where the red used to be, he lingers on the ground longer than he usually does. Sick with his desires, frustrated with his failures. Eventually though, he hauls himself up into the tree, settling against the scratching bark to watch the sun rise. 

It really did used to be gorgeous: the faintest dawning of light, the promise of a stretch of colors streaking across the sky. The announcement of a new day. Now all Jungwon thinks of when he sees it is that Jay used to stop and stare. 

“Won.”

“Hm?” Jungwon’s distracted with his bag, digging through it to find his water. It must be buried at the bottom. 

“Look.”

Jungwon pauses what he’s doing and obeys; Jay’s voice is imploring, and soft around the edges like it always is when he’s in awe of something. Jungwon follows Jay’s gaze to the sunrise. It’s a breathtaking sight- more stunning than mornings during tracking expeditions usually are. 

Abandoning his bag for the moment, Jungwon stands, stepping up to Jay’s side with his hands in his pockets. Soon, the sun will ascend and take the delicate colors with it. The early summer heat will unfurl and make them all just a little miserable. But right now, it’s something to be appreciated. 

“Pretty,” Jungwon murmurs. 

Jay’s head swivels his way, expression unreadable. Jungwon stares back at him, noting the way his eyes linger a second longer than they need to. But then Jay smiles- the small one- and the moment is gone just like that. 

He tilts away from Jungwon, calling, “Get your asses in gear, people!” to the rest of the camp, which earns him immediate variations of “Shut the fuck up” in response. Jungwon finds this quite amusing. 

“That’s my line,” he teases the older, bumping into his shoulder as he walks back to his bag. Jay’s warm laughter follows. 

It’s not fair. Jungwon gets to see this, and Jay doesn’t. Jungwon can’t even appreciate it without him here. And…

And maybe that’s his problem. Jungwon’s so caught up in his head, caught up in the past, that he spends all his mornings up here in this damn tree, waiting for the rest of the world to wake up to help him. He spends his days starting at the same spot, just changing directions, only to end up with nothing, nothing, nothing. He spends his nights twisting and turning and writhing in his bed when no one’s forcing him to stay there. 

He can take control of this. He has to. He has to stop waiting around for others to be right by his side, to catch him when he loses himself. He shouldn’t have to have them there at all. Company is not a luxury he can afford after this long. Rest is not something he can take advantage of. 

He has to stop waiting. He has to stop wasting. Wasting time, wasting energy on his own thoughts- 

A sound coming from his left yanks Jungwon out of said thoughts so quickly, his neck cricks with the force at which he whips his head to look. The noise is imperceptible at first, but Jungwon waits, dread pricking at his gut and spilling all over his insides with every passing second. 

That’s not a forest sound. Jungwon knows those better than his own heartbeat. He knows how the stray animals in these parts make their way through the trees: gingerly, to avoid attracting unwanted attention. He knows the rustle of the wind. He knows the distant, hollow crack of an old tree finally returning to the ground. But this is not that. 

This is footsteps, getting closer. 

Winters bring early nights and late mornings. Early sunsets and late sunrises. There’s still hardly any light to make out anything and Jungwon can’t see who’s coming for too many harrowing seconds. When the figure finally makes itself known through the web of bare branches, his heart stops.

The soldier’s alone. 

Their pace doesn’t falter, boots crunching steadily in the snow. It doesn’t look like they’re holding a gun, but Jungwon doesn’t have his at all. He has his knives though, and they’re in hand in an instant, his every movement deadly silent. 

He can’t process that the soldier’s truly there, but doesn’t dare to blink. Why are they out here? They don’t do rounds in the forest. They just don’t. They-

Jungwon freezes, mind blanking out in white-hot panic. His footprints. 

They track through the snow. Stop beneath this very tree. The soldier’s going to notice. Surely they’ll notice. Jungwon prepares himself to move within a split second that could save his life. If they stop, if they look up at him, he'll only have that split second.

He rallies his focus. Even while a fear unlike anything he’s ever known clogs up his lungs, that he won’t make it back to the compound, that he’ll die out here. That he won’t be able to save Jay. 

He waits, holding his breath, but-

But the soldier passes by. 

What the fuck, Jungwon thinks. Then, It must be too dark still. They weren’t paying attention. They didn’t see. 

Jungwon’s about to draw a quiet pull of air into his lungs- and he would’ve, if he hadn’t seen it. But he does see it, and his heart stops all over again. Everything stops. 

There, sticking out of the soldier’s pocket, is a sliver of silver catching the faint morning light. Metal melded into a hilt painted a deep green, with delicate stencils of white swirling and twisting about it done by its artist’s careful hand. 

There, sticking out of the soldier’s pocket, is one of Jay’s knives. 

Chapter Text

Once, a couple years ago, Jungwon woke up on the forest floor and rolled over and thought Niki was dead. 

It was before Taeyong and Mark, before Heeseung, before Jake, before Jay. Before the city and the compound and everything else, when it was still just Jungwon and Niki and Sunoo against the world. It was the most brutal winter of Jungwon’s fourteen years. The bitter sting of wind, the sharpness of its teeth that dug into their too-thin sides and ripped the color from their skin- it was too much for them to handle. 

They’d huddled in a pile beneath a cluster of trees the night before, desperate for any sort of warmth. Aching for comfort they didn’t have themselves but were still trying to extend to each other. That closeness was the only thing halfway-settling Jungwon’s heart as he tried to fight dozing off in the dead of night, and precisely why he was so alarmed that Niki wasn’t curled against his front when he woke at first light. He jolted upright. Flipped around, hands scraping hot against the frost covered ground, and saw Niki’s form crumpled in a heap in the snow-dusted dirt several feet away. 

Later, voice thick with fear he still hadn’t managed to swallow down, Jungwon berated Niki for leaving camp and ordered he never, never, go off on his own when he and Sunoo were both sleeping. Looking for wood not soaked through with snow to start a fire wasn’t worth frostbite, or getting snatched away by Unification without a trace. Or, in the case that literally happened, exhausting himself so thoroughly that as soon as he made it back to their camp by the creek, he passed out. It just wasn’t worth it, but it was exactly what Niki had done. 

Just shy of sobbing, Niki explained that he’d merely wanted Jungwon and Sunoo to stop shaking in their sleep. He just wanted them all to be warm. His eyes still had that childlike nature to them then; plus, they were blown wide with confusion, having just roused from unconsciousness, and filled with sorrowful tears for scaring his two older friends so badly. Jungwon shook him by the shoulders, then pulled him forward into a crushing hug so forcefully that Niki collapsed on top of him, and Jungwon still didn’t relinquish his grip, cheek squished to the younger’s filthy hair. 

Because when he’d woken up, only half his heart lying next to him, Niki had just lost consciousness. And he wasn’t breathing. Just for a couple seconds, but he wasn’t. And Jungwon thought he was dead. 

The last time he’d experienced that all-encompassing pain- wound about his heart, reducing his mind to ash- was when he’d lost his mother. That blinding panic, that horrific helplessness. It was enough to render him useless, but Jungwon still moved. 

Despite everything. Despite knowing that stumbling over to Niki’s unmoving body and touching him may just confirm that his soul had slipped away from Jungwon while Jungwon was sleeping, Jungwon moved. Despite the brain-numbing cacophony of How? How did this happen? How? ringing in his head, Jungwon moved. 

Now, with his sights set on Jay’s knife sticking out of the Uni soldier’s suit pocket, Jungwon must do it again.

Despite everything, he moves.

»

Jungwon goes to crouch for cover behind a snowbank when his foot skids on a patch of ice concealed by snow. Cringing, shoulders nearly up to his ears, he snaps his head up. But the soldier tramps on. From so many yards away they mustn’t have heard him at all. And maybe it wasn’t as loud as Jungwon thought it was anyway. At the moment, every shift is absolutely deafening to his paranoid ears. 

He glances at his watch. Two and a half hours since he jumped down from the tree and began following the soldier deeper into the forest. So… about ten miles. Jungwon clenches his jaw, then his hands, trying to get some blood flowing again. They’re shaking against the cold, but he really can’t feel them anymore. He remembers, distantly, the gloves he’d finally decided to leave behind in his room.

The weight of what he’s doing constricts his chest so greatly he can’t suck a full breath in. But that’s exactly what makes it worth it. Where he may be going is worth every tense tug at his heart, worth every tremble of his ribs when the air doesn’t quite get out all the way. 

Dwelling on it- what Jay’s knife in this soldier’s pocket could mean- would be detrimental to Jungwon’s focus. He would dissolve into an empty shell of everything that could be, overwhelmed by what he may find, terrified of being crushed if he arrives wherever the soldier’s leading him and doesn’t find what he’s looking for. Who he’s looking for. 

Instead, Jungwon has directed his utmost attention to the soldier’s every movement. He’s stepped strictly in the footprints they’ve left behind. He’s meticulously avoided every low hanging branch, carefully skirted around anything that could potentially trip him up. Anything that could bring attention to himself. He’s stayed a healthy, painful distance away from the soldier at all times, ducking down for a moment- like he is now- when he gets a little too close. 

Only by calculated restraint has Jungwon refrained from using violent measures to take control of the situation. It’s killing him, but he knows better. Using the two daggers he has on his person from where he is isn’t the issue; this distance is child’s play to him. But all the events that could follow are. 

Even if Jungwon had them at knifepoint and demanded they take him to the boy they’d stolen the painted weapon from, there’s no guarantee they’d do it. There are too many probable unknowns that could play into it, like them intentionally leading him to the wrong facility or notifying other soldiers of their location. And Jungwon would be none the wiser, as his understanding of their technology is still very limited. 

Nearly two years of raiding in this forest has revealed that Unification technology doesn’t function outside the bounds of a facility site. The watches he and other raiders have snatched off fallen soldiers in the aftermath of raids are the solitary exception to this inexplicable rule. It doesn’t make any sense to Jungwon, or anyone in the compound for that matter. But none of them have ever known a life with technology before this.

So Jungwon doubts the soldier would feasibly be able to contact others if he were to take them captive, but the sliver of a chance that it could happen and the promise that it would blow his cover is enough for him to tamp down any desire he has to take action. 

How much he aches, however, to make that masked coward hurt is astounding. It’s fizzling up within him. It’s going to boil over. He’s going to burn. 

That green dagger residing in the soldier’s pocket is a testament to brutality. When Jay is threatened he fights like hell, with everything in him. Because that’s who he is. But the knife isn’t with Jay, and it hasn’t been since he was stolen away in the morning light ten months ago. 

The knife is with this soldier, and to have it means they won over Jay. Which means they hurt him. Badly. There’s no other way it could have played out. There’s no other possibility in which they could have possession of one of Jay’s beloved weapons. And the rage that seizes Jungwon due to that reality is not shocking, but it is vast. Jungwon wants to wipe them off the face of the planet for existing, walking out here through the forest with no remorse while Jay is locked up in some locked down building, suffering because of them. Because of their actions. Their decisions, their skewed radicalism, their hands- 

Jungwon shudders so aggressively he has to grip his knees just to ground himself. Murdering the soldier won’t get him to Jay. Hurting them won’t get him to Jay. Taking them captive won’t get him to Jay. He just needs to shove everything away- out of sight, out of mind- and move. 

He can do that. He’s good at it. He’s good at pushing himself beyond what he should be able to. He’s good at acting on instinct, with fire in his muscles urging him on, even when his mind is shutting down. 

Jungwon curses himself for not having his map on him. The little piece of paper he redraws at the end of every week to update their tracking findings is tucked away in a drawer of the map table in the ring. In the compound, ten miles away. He couldn’t have known that he’d so desperately want it when he left for the tree this morning, of course. He always leaves it behind, along with his gun and all the other supplies he only shoulders outside with the intention of tracking, not watching the sun rise over the spot Jay was taken. 

Now, though, in the monumental position he’s in, following the first lead he’s ever had, it’s difficult to comprehend that he didn’t experience some sort of premonition when he woke up this morning, that as soon as he slipped away from Sunoo and Niki he didn’t sense a shift in the air telling him something was coming, that he didn’t have any inkling of an idea where a few hours would land him. Ultimately, this line of reasoning is foolish; he knows. After ten months of stagnant days bleeding into each other, how could he have known the chance he’s been seeking all this time would just appear before him today? 

Still, he hates that he doesn’t have the map. His gun. They’re safety blankets. Blessings he didn’t used to have the privilege of possessing but has grown familiar with having on hand. He doesn’t need the physical map as a backup; no matter how many miles they walk or how many turns they take, his memory won’t fail him. He doesn’t need his gun; his daggers are enough to protect himself. But that doesn’t mean his hands don’t ache to unfold parchment that would record the wide stretch of his steps or to clutch the cool metal of a weapon that’s more final than a blade at times. 

Jungwon huffs quietly, peeking over the snowbank to confirm the soldier is at a more acceptable distance from him now. 

And it just doesn’t matter. None of it matters. No amount of good or bad circumstances could add up to any value that would actually matter. This is the blip in what has become routine. This is the tear in the blackhole of a haze he’s been subjected to for the better part of the past year. 

He’ll keep his distance. He’ll monitor every step with absolute attentiveness. He’ll remain absolutely silent. 

Because he’s good at that too. Tracking, seeking. Finding something out of nothing. It’s failed him every day since he lost Jay, but it won’t fail him today. He won’t allow it to. 

Jungwon squares his shoulders, squeezes his fingers to his palms again. Gets up from behind his temporary covering, steeling himself for the unknown distance ahead. Locating the figure slipping through the trees in the distance, unassuming in their movements. Unsuspecting. 

And Jungwon trails after them, silent as a hunter stalking its prey. 

»

With each step, the unease inside Jungwon expands, growing and growing and eating away at his already fragile composure. It’s a disease, this wariness. A mile or so back the layout of trees and general ups and downs of the land began to seem more and more unfamiliar. Now there’s no doubt in Jungwon’s mind that he’s never been to this part of the forest before. He doesn’t know where he is. 

It shouldn’t come as a shock to him, considering that almost two years of combing through this land has still only led them to discover a handful of facilities. They know there are dozens more out here simply hidden away behind twists they’ve never stumbled upon, concealed by dense areas they aren’t yet aware exist. 

But- hiking up an incline so steep his knees nearly touch to his chest- how could they have missed this? How could he have missed this? He still doesn’t know where the soldier is cluelessly leading him, but if it’s where he hopes it will be- needs it to be- how-

A new sound invades Jungwon’s ears, so foreign it instantly derails every wisp of panic in his mind. It’s still hushed by distance, but Jungwon’s sure he’s not heard it before while tracking. His heartbeat won’t calm, skipping beats and racing in his chest. 

Unnerved, Jungwon dips into a low walk once he reaches the top of the rise. But the soldier trudges on several yards ahead, unperturbed by the sound drawing ever closer. 

Closer and closer still and- Water. It’s water. Jungwon’s cluttered subconscious provides an explanation to the full rush of noise and it clicks into place as he rounds a thicket of winter-bared branches to reveal the waterfall in the distance. It’s majestic. It’s daunting in its thunderous noise and intimidating in its sheer size and power and how did Jungwon miss this?

He keeps his eyes glued to the soldier’s back, watching their movements intently, ready to conceal himself in his surroundings in an instant if they turn around or glance over their shoulder. But they don’t turn and they don’t look back and Jungwon is far enough behind them that he’s not as anxious about his boots crunching in the snow with the water being as loud as it is. The two of them approach the falls and swing a wide right around it together, at the same pace but different times. 

As the protective layer of sound diminishes with distance, Jungwon’s attention tunes back into his footsteps. He’s getting too close to the soldier for comfort again, so he slips behind the cover of a thick tree trunk and peers at his watch. 12:30. It’s been six hours. Twenty-four miles, give or take. 

Jungwon’s head spins, but only a little. Walking this much in one day is normal. He does this all the time. Actually, he and the team tackle anywhere from thirty to thirty-five miles on a typical day. It’s certainly always enough to leave them sore and aching, no matter how conditioned they are. But they do it. Jungwon does it. His body can handle it. 

His mind cannot. Because six hours is nothing compared to tracking outside the compound for eight, ten, twelve, but it’s six hours too long when he’s already had a taste of what could be with this impossible breakthrough. Because twenty-four miles is nothing compared to thirty, thirty-five, forty, but he doesn’t know how much longer this journey is going to take. 

And still, it just doesn’t matter. 

Jungwon will follow this soldier to the end of time because there’s a chance. There’s a chance this soldier is the one who snatched Jay’s knife off Jay himself. There’s a chance they’ve had it with them all this time. There’s a chance they were one of the ones to drag Jay to a facility. There’s a chance that’s where they’re leading Jungwon now. 

Jungwon will walk until he can’t anymore and still go on because there’s a chance, and that’s all he’s needed for ten months.

Slinking away from the tree after a careful check behind and around him, Jungwon steps lightly through the snow as he starts up his careful gait again. His attitude towards the faceless figure guiding him through the forest is still white hot and bitter, sharp with anger. Jungwon could snap at any given moment. He wants to. 

There is this untameable fury pulsing within him, yes. But interwoven in the irregular beats of his heart, there is an unbound plea toward the soldier too. 

Please, he whispers silently to them, begs them, prays. Please lead me to him. 

Lead me home. 

»

At three in the afternoon, things take a turn. 

It’s been snowing for one hour, unbearably windy for two. Jungwon lost his footing on the way down a hill a couple miles back, fortunately avoiding a disaster by landing fairly quietly, but fucking up his left knee in the process. He tweaked it awkwardly on the slope and has been gritting his teeth against sharp bouts of pain since. 

In the face of what’s happening, though, it’s easy to put the discomfort aside. 

The soldier doesn’t stop. The soldier doesn’t start acting strange. Actually, they don’t do anything out of the ordinary compared to their actions over the last several hours. It has nothing to do with the soldier at all.

The atmosphere changes. 

Jungwon senses the shift immediately. Feels his guard rising as snow clings to his eyelashes, distorting his vision. But before he can scramble to figure out what specifically has changed, he sees them: the lights. 

There’s nothing subtle about them, blinking through the heavy sheet of falling snow with glaring luminescence. Lights that are a beacon of a landmark because there’s never been any need to hide what they represent. Lights that aren’t from Jungwon’s world. Lights that belong to a facility. 

The sheer surge of energy that courses through Jungwon’s body just about topples him over. His shoulder catches on the tree he hadn’t realized was right in front of him in his haste to see better- see more- 

Where did the air go? He can’t breathe. There’s a commotion- something like Oh god oh my god can this be it could it be is this it- in his head but he can’t pay it any mind because the soldier is still moving so he is too. 

Trees. Trees in front of him, trees everywhere, trees blocking his vision- and then they’re thinning out. Less and less trees and the snow is coming down so hard Jungwon can hardly see further than a few yards out, but he can see the lights. He can still see the soldier, and he can still see the lights. 

Then the trees all but disappear. There’s an edge, and a steep hill unfurling below the brink of it. The soldier begins their descent, dipping out of Jungwon’s view. And there. Nestled in the bowl of the valley, sits the facility. 

Jungwon does not possess the strength that’s required to take in its horrible existence and keep himself upright at the same time. He half-trips into a squat behind the protection of one of the last trees before the slope drops off and stares. Just… stares, all the wind in his lungs rushing out of him. He blinks. But when he opens his eyes the facility’s still there. 

Air still stolen away, Jungwon gawks at the sight. An ending. A beginning. Everything he’s ever hated, and possibly holding captive the key to his entire life. 

The snow is coming down harder, thicker. It’s so dense that it darkens the clouded sky even further, making it look like evening rather than mid-afternoon. Gripped by a jolt of realization, Jungwon scours the basin of the valley for the soldier, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Likely already within the confines of the facility’s gates. 

Jungwon can’t even be bothered by his carelessness. He wasn’t planning on harming them or using them to his advantage anyway, in order to remain undetected. Since he’s succeeded in that, the soldier will go about their business here, giving Jungwon the window he needs to- to-

The true, complete realization is upon Jungwon then. 

Jay.  

Jay might-

Jungwon chokes on a sob, palm coming up to his mouth. It traps the sound but nothing can tamp down the devastation ripping through his system as he encounters what he must do now. Which is leave. Leave him. 

Jay might be in there. And Jungwon can’t go and find out. 

He twists, sits with his back to the tree. Buries his mouth in his elbow instead and cries. Helplessness has never left him this shattered. Before there were no options; he could only drown. Now there’s an answer. Not a guarantee, but an answer all the same. And he can’t even fucking go in. 

Not now. Not alone. No amount of passion or rage or determination could get him through those gates, let alone all the guards he would meet right after. He doesn’t have his gun. He doesn't have Heeseung’s eyes in front of him or Sunghoon’s presence by his side or Niki’s steady hand at his back. He’s alone, and charging forward would only get him killed, or captured. What good would that do anyone? No one at the compound would know where he went and Jay would still be trapped. 

Charging in now for the sole purpose of being closer to him would only lock Jungwon away in a room where similar suffering would soon find him. Jay would still be stuck. Jay would still be suffering. And Jungwon won’t do that to him. He won’t. 

So Jungwon swipes at his running nose and pulls in lungfuls of icy air, trying his best to see past the tears stinging his eyes at the prospect of running in the opposite direction of where Jay very well may be in this very moment. 

Jay, I’m sorry. 

Jungwon can picture it in his head, the stark white rooms- cells- he’s dragged limp, nearly lifeless bodies out of countless times before. Jungwon can see Jay curled up against one of those bare walls, thin and bruised and hurting. Waiting for salvation. Waiting for Jungwon. 

God, I’m so sorry. 

Jungwon struggles for breath and it seeps in like he’s being strangled, like someone’s sitting on his chest. 

I can’t- I can’t come get you yet. I’m so sorry that you have to, but wait for me. Just a while longer. Hold on for me. Please hold on. 

Flexing his stiff hands, Jungwon prepares to rise. Works himself through another breath that’s so cold it hurts, trying to steady himself the best he can. He faces the facility again, flicks his trained gaze across the gate and the entrance, committing it all to memory. 

Logic has never had more ammunition against him. He can’t act on his eagerness, nor the itch buzzing under his skin to get his hands on those responsible for everything. So he stands amongst the snow instead. Whispers to Jay to wait, wait just a little longer. 

And then he turns on his heel and takes off, leaving his entire heart behind him. 

»

It is so cold. 

Really, it’s so unbearably cold.

But the running helps, a little. Jungwon pushes on. 

And on, and on. 

»

The waterfall. 

The snow is turning to slush around the edges of the pool. Jungwon has to go out of his way to avoid it. The rush of sound is still just as unsettling as the first time. He leaves it behind as quickly as his body allows him. 

»

Familiar trees, familiar hills. 

Familiar land, again. 

»

Everything’s coated in a thick layer of white now. Snow. Snow and more snow, inches of it everywhere he looks. Jungwon tries to make mental notes of different landmarks but he’s pushing himself so hard and everything’s starting to look the same. 

He worries if he’ll be able to remember his way back after all. 

»

He sinks into knee-deep snow with a misstep and tips forward before he can try to correct his stance. 

Wetness seeps into the arms of his jacket, coating his chest in a frost he’d mostly managed to avoid before that. He can’t feel his feet, or his hands. His nose, his ears. 

He gets up. Gets back to the ankle-deep snow. Goes on. 

And on, and on. 

»

Jungwon halts at the foot of a towering incline, absolutely unable to take the first step just yet. He cranes his neck, squinting through falling snow-turned-sleet in search of the hill’s crest and- it’s impossible. It’s a thousand miles away, a point that he doesn’t think he can reasonably reach in his current state- stomach in knots of hunger pains, head pounding at his temples and behind his eyes, chest ablaze with the ache for breath, for rest. 

When he exhales next, it’s half a horrendous cough and half a broken cry. Bone-weary doesn’t even begin to describe it. But after that exclamation he takes the first step up the hill. And then the second, and then the third, and he eventually coerces himself into a jog again. 

It takes more precious, invaluable time than he wishes, but he does reach the top. 

»

Ten miles out from the compound. 

No matter the snow warping everything in sight, he knows this. He knows there’s ten left, for he’s done this stretch so, so many times. A renewed invigoration grabs hold of his heart, urges him on. 

And on. And on. 

»

Five miles out. 

It stops snowing.

»

The tree- his tree.

Jungwon races by it and does not glance at the spot buried under inches of white where the red used to be for, maybe, the first time ever. 

»

The last hill before the compound. 

The realization that he’s arrived back is a physical marker so potent, his body stops moving at its own accord. The desperation that pushed him all the way here diminishes so, so quickly. Like that strength wasn’t ever there at all. He goes down, kneeling in the snow, knuckles sinking into icy chill. Chest heaving, eyes blurred, Jungwon screams at himself to get up, get up, get up, there’s no time- an internal grating that he’s forced to listen to since the blood roaring in his ears blocks everything else out otherwise. 

It can’t be more than a minute before Jungwon staggers to his feet. Get to him. Get to him. The journey back consisted of that goal alone: returning. Now he hardens his resolve to ignore every stifling emotion, every physical hardship, every horrifying possibility trying to shut him down- until Jay is found. Safe. Back here with their family where he belongs. 

Jungwon’s rounding the cluster of trees that will reveal the entrance to the compound when a hand clasps his shoulder and forcibly spins him around. 

“Where the hell have you been!” 

Jake. His grip is unforgiving, eyes wild. Jungwon stares at him, a wall of relief crashing into him so powerfully, it catches him off guard. 

“Jungwon. Hey,” Jake shakes him after a stilted silence, eyebrows furrowing together, hand coming up to his cheek. Jungwon startles. Reaches to fist the material at Jake’s elbow in frozen fingers. Jake’s breath catches as he reads the distress riddled in Jungwon’s expression in the way only an old friend can. 

So Jake changes tactics, asking instead, “What happened?”

Resolve, Jungwon reminds himself. No time. 

“I think I found Jay.”

»

Getting all the leaders gathered in the ring should be a seamless affair. Jake rushes Jungwon inside, hand under his arm, practically hauling him along. It’s warm here- Jungwon knows this objectively- but he’s having trouble feeling the difference from outside. They switch the lights that line every room in the compound to green, calling those whom it concerns to the ring for a meeting. Jungwon wants to lock down the compound in red but Jake refuses adamantly, perceiving how much chaos that would stir up. Jungwon is reluctant to admit he’s right.  

It should be easy to gather all the leaders together. As it is, most of them are outside looking for Jungwon, who’d been missing for a grand total of sixteen fucking hours. Since they’re all aware of Jungwon’s morning routine, of course they would assume the worst when he didn’t come back. Jungwon thinks of slipping out of Sunoo and Niki’s room a hundred lifetimes ago and has the decency to feel remorseful, at least about that. After what happened with Jay, he can imagine the hell he put all of them through today.

Jake leads him inside the ring, untucks his arm from around Jungwon’s waist to situate him to lean against the map table, then goes back into the hallway to- uncharacteristically- bark at several passersby to rush out and gather the leaders spread about the forest outside. 

Jungwon pushes off the table with his hands, rocking his weight back onto his feet. 

“We need to go too.”

“Like hell we do.” Jake’s entire back is tensed up- Jungwon can tell because his shoulders are raised and he keeps flexing his left hand like he always does when he’s agitated. Jungwon still can’t help being bothered by his older friend’s response. 

“Jake,” he attempts to start softly, but it ends up coming out harsh because they are nine hours out and thirty miles away from Jay right now and everyone else that he needs to know about it so they can actually move is outside in the goddamn woods. “It’ll be faster if we’re out there too, looking for them to bring them all-”

“God, please stop.” Jake has never snapped at Jungwon, not once. And this didn’t really contest that, but it was certainly a near thing. Jake visibly withers at whatever blank expression Jungwon’s wearing trying to process the tone, and walks closer to rest his hands on Jungwon’s shoulders. 

Jungwon sits on the floor when Jake applies pressure and pushes him down. The older boy squats in front of him, worrying over his clothes and grimacing when his hands come away glistening with melted ice and snow. 

“You’re fucking freezing,” he says, terribly quiet now. Almost to himself, it seems, but then his eyes are flicking back up to Jungwon’s. The fight drains out of Jungwon. Immediately. His body slumps in on itself, and god, he’s so tired. Just for a minute. Just a minute. Save my strength to save him. Then we’ll go save him. 

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs, apparently aware of the war waging in Jungwon’s head- feeling sick for resting when he knows what he knows now. “They’ll be back soon.”

Taeyong is first, Mark following closely behind. The fact that Taeyong left the compound at all- 

They’re on the ground next to him and he’s enveloped in their arms and bombarded with Mark’s quivering voice saying too much at once. Taeyong pulls away, checking Jungwon over with his jaw set, intentionally silent. Jungwon can see the conversation they will have later settled in the stressed lines of the older’s face, but for the time being he says nothing. 

Mark stops grilling Jungwon after Jake fills him in. He grasps Jungwon’s arm hard, then leaves the ring to go fetch another blanket, adding to the two Jake had already draped around his shoulders and over his lap. 

Heeseung is next, attention latching onto him the second he rounds the corner. Jungwon has trouble looking at him as he makes his way across the room, but manages to do so when Heeseung is down at his level, eyes suspiciously misty. 

“I thought you were-” he chokes off in a noise Jungwon hasn’t heard since the time they thought Jake had been shot during a raid. Jungwon grabs his hand, knowing Heeseung won’t reach out first. Sure enough, the older’s grip tightens tenfold at the admission. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon mutters, though he knows that doesn’t make up for much of anything. 

Sunoo is crying when he rushes into the ring. Jungwon scrambles to a stand in preparation, but Sunoo doesn’t bowl him over in a hug like he was sort of expecting. He just stops moving quite as quickly and walks up to Jungwon slowly, like he’s scared Jungwon will fade into smoke and drift away from him if he disturbs the air too much. That’s what scares Jungwon the most: fathoming how much he scared them. 

Without a word, Jungwon is pulled into Sunoo’s chest. The older boy is shaking. From the cold, from fear, from his tears- Jungwon doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter. Jungwon tries to comfort him the best he can while his mind is somewhere else and his body still doesn’t feel like his own. 

Jungwon’s face is hidden away against Sunoo’s front for a long moment, so he doesn’t know who it is when there’s a hand at the back of his head, stroking down hair that’s likely wild from hours of being tossed about by ruthless winds. When Jungwon shifts away from Sunoo to look- it’s Niki. Of course it’s Niki. Lips pursed. A glint in his eye telling he’s furious. But he, like Taeyong, is silent.

“What happened?” Sunoo asks, voice raspy. There are tear tracks framing his cheeks and Jungwon reaches up to wipe under his eyes absentmindedly. Sunoo flinches at the contact but doesn’t move away; Jungwon’s hands clearly haven’t warmed up as much as he thought. 

“I’ll explain,” Jungwons answers. Panic starts to spiral within him, keeping him from saying more for a lengthy pause. It’s been so long, too long. Leading them all there will be a challenge unlike anything they’ve taken on as a group before, a long distance with the worst weather conditions possible. Jay could be injured beyond their imagination. Beyond repair, that dark part of his mind whispers.

It’s too much. Jungwon swore he wouldn’t let his emotions take hold of him, but it’s proving to be more difficult than he expected to convey what he discovered today when met with his friends’ anger and concern and confusion. 

“I’ll explain,” he tries again. “But I think I found the facility Jay’s in.”

Jungwon watches the world tilt on its access for them just as it did for him several hours ago. 

Sunghoon is the last to arrive, all mussed hair and red cheeks and wide eyes. 

“Jungwon,” he breathes, but Jungwon can’t extend the same sympathy to him that he did to the others. They’re all here now, and so much time has been wasted. Forty-two minutes worth. 

Jungwon pulls away from Niki’s outstretched hand as he feels the gears in his head switching to the same mindset he takes on before each and every raid, the one that allows him the room to focus and act instead of falling victim to all the harrowing possibilities. 

He stands tall, rolling his shoulders back. Not because that’s a reflection of how he feels, but because he thinks it might make it easier for the others to receive what he’s about to tell them if he looks like he’s somewhat put together. 

Jungwon tells them about the soldier walking alone in the morning, and about Jay’s knife in their pocket. About following them, being led into an entirely unfamiliar section of the forest, and coming upon the facility. He watches their faces, their reactions. 

There’s a brief moment of silence once he finishes. It’s not long at all, but he’s still just about ready to lose his fucking mind.

“How far away is it?” Taeyong asks. 

“Thirty miles.” 

Mark’s mouth parts around a muted gasp. “God, that’s-” his eyes flash as he does the quick calculation- “what- eight hours? Nine?” 

Jungwon tries not to level him with a stare that would definitely have ill intentions behind it. He knows Mark’s only asking. “It was nine walking there. But seven running back.” 

Heeseung exhales roughly and Jungwon’s gaze snaps over to him. It’s not nice this time; there’s no space for that anymore. The older boy’s looking at the table, making no move to say anything, but Jungwon can read the uncertainty in his downcast eyes plain as day. Jungwon’s defenses rise to the call. 

It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s not supposed to be this difficult to convince them to come with him. He came back for them so they could help him. 

“What?” Jungwon hisses, looking around with a frenzied type of energy, annoyance bleeding into his tone. He doesn’t think he could care about that right now if he tried. “We’ve gone that far before. How is this any fucking different?” 

The men standing around the table bristle at the accusation and Jungwon is glad. He’ll do whatever it takes to push them into moving. Or he’ll go by his damn self if it comes to it, armed and ready for the fight of his life. 

“That’s not-” Mark starts, just as Taeyong’s harried voice overlaps him. 

“Jungwon, we know.” Leader tone. Gentle. Firm. He’s trying to diffuse the situation, but he must not fucking understand that Jungwon is just going to keep dumping fuel on the damn fire. “But it’s already almost midnight. With the snow and the darkness- even if we can get there in seven, the sun will be coming up. We won’t have the cover we always count on coming back.”

“And you think that matters,” Jungwon breathes, nodding. He can’t believe this. Can’t fucking believe it. “There was a soldier doing rounds in the forest this morning. They never fucking do that but for all we know, they are now! So that cover isn’t all that important if they’re gonna be out there anyway.”

Heeseung breaks his silence. “That’s not really working in your favor, Jungwon.”

“My-” Jungwon sputters. He can’t finish the sentence. 

“What I mean,” Heeseung amends, “is that we have to be careful about this.”

“Careful,” Jungwon repeats, low. 

Sunoo is watching him raptly; Jungwon can feel the older’s eyes on him. This is the tipping point, before Jungwon says or does something he’ll regret later. The frustration of misunderstanding and conflict and delay rising up within him is enough of a catalyst already, and judging by Sunoo’s tentative hand splayed out in his direction, the older boy fully understands that. 

“Hey,” he says, voice fair and even. Jungwon hates it. Feels like he’s being backed against a wall and singled out on his own side here. Feels like Sunoo’s standing a million miles away from him, yet trying to talk him down off a ledge. 

“We’re with you, okay?” Every ounce of him oozes sympathy, imploring Jungwon to share the weight of this responsibility. To take refuge in the calm he’s somehow managed to maintain in the midst of this chaos. “We’re with you. We want him back too. But we-” his voice breaks off and he swallows hard, doubt creeping into the worried crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His eyes jump to meet Niki’s for a second, as if searching for courage. A split second, but Jungwon still catches the exchange. “We don’t know for sure, Jungwon.”

Jungwon sucks in a breath, disarmed by the sudden swell of unease Sunoo’s grave tone inflicts on him. “Know what.”

Niki, ever on the same page as Sunoo, picks up where the older left off.

“That Jay’s actually in that facility.” 

Jungwon tilts his head back a little as his nose stings sharply, eyes still locked stubbornly with Niki’s. 

“The knife’s a good lead- a great one,” Niki plows on. “But that could mean anything. That soldier could’ve found it in the woods, at random. They could’ve gotten it from another soldier who was actually with Jay when he was taken. They may have even confiscated it from Jay himself, but that doesn’t mean the facility you found today is the one he’s in.”

Tears fill up Jungwon’s eyes slow and hot, burning like the pain in his knee, the pain in his heart. He’s held them back since he left the facility behind, but it’s a lost cause now.

“I know,” he’s whispering, “I know,” but it must be too quiet and Niki can’t hear him, or Niki can hear him and is purposefully still going about making his point. 

“Because why the hell would that soldier be all the way out here?” The younger boy’s voice is strained with emotion, and he lets it show. Probably trying to display to Jungwon that no matter how hard he’s trying to keep it together, the thought of finding Jay is too powerful an influence for him too. For all of them. “It doesn’t make any sense, Jungwon. And I… I don’t want you to lose your mind if we don’t find him when we get there.”

“I know.” Louder this time. Loud enough. Jungwon bites into his cheek. 

“You have to prepare yourself.”

“I know-”

“We’re with you. We’re on your side. But we just have to be sure about this.”

Overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, Jungwon presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and takes great care in making the sob caught up in his chest come out as a drawn out sigh instead. 

With every chance that Jay may be at this facility, he may not be too. It’s far-fetched. Stupid. Too many by-chance things are too perfectly aligned. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s entirely foolish to hope, but what else can he do? How much further can he continue if he lets it go? It’s all he has. 

He whispers, “Please,” tone utterly crippled with defenselessness. It takes him by surprise, going from just about slamming his hands down on the map table to hoping the men around him will see from his point of view in a matter of minutes. 

He doesn’t need their permission, he needs their support. He doesn’t want their hesitations, he wants their actions, their backup. He needs to make them see that. He needs to make it quick. 

 Raising his head out of the stiff cocoon of his hands doesn’t do him any good. He can’t look at any of them yet and has to sniff roughly and then clear his throat just so he can talk. 

“I understand the risks,” he manages. “I understand your worries about the weather, the timing, the circumstances. I understand that waiting would be the smartest thing we could do, for us. But this is-” his hand curls into a fist, his hip bumps the table in his haste to lean toward them- “this is a chance. The chance, and I won’t give it up for a single second longer than I must. I won’t wait until we have the security of night while Jay doesn’t have the security of safety. While he’s suffering. He’s been suffering for so long and I can’t make him wait another night.”

Jungwon finally digs up the will to meet Niki’s clouded gaze, revisiting his younger friend’s concerns. “I know he might not be there. I- I know. But I just won’t wait. So if I need to go alone, I will.” 

Niki physically recoils at the prospect. Jungwon stops looking at him and addresses the group as a whole. 

“I needed my weapons, yeah. But I came back for you. Because I’m well aware I shouldn’t try to do this on my own.”

So many hours. So many days, weeks, months of minutes, seconds desiring nothing more than this chance. Jungwon can feel the sheer amount of what’s at stake in his fucking throat- he can taste it- and the thought of letting it slip through his fingers for another moment is unbearable. 

“So please.” Raw. He’s laid out everything he has, right here. “Come with me now. Or if you can’t, at least promise me you’ll go get him tomorrow night if I don’t come back.”

Jungwon is blindsided by the tenderness of the hug Jake draws him into. He hasn’t left Jungwon’s side since he brought him in from the cold, and now reels him in from the faraway place at a pace that doesn’t jostle him about in the slightest. 

“What the fuck,” Jake exhales into his shoulder. There’s no anger, no frustration. Just an element of grief to his touch. He’s not squeezing Jungwon in his arms; he’s trying to speak two different ways at once. “What the fuck, Jungwon, you’re not… you’re not going alone. That’s not even an option. I can’t believe-”

He pulls away abruptly, kind eyes slanted with worry. Firm, he shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to convince us. Hm?” Fire in those eyes now. Stooping down to Jungwon’s sunken level to force him to look into the older’s face. Guiding Jungwon to see how genuine he’s being. “You’re not convincing us to go, to save him. We are going. This- this is Jay.”

Jungwon sucks his bottom lip into his mouth so he doesn’t start tearing up again. Jake isn’t faring much better. 

“We just want to make sure he gets home safe, yeah? And all of us with him.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon breathes out, suddenly more thoroughly exhausted than the moment he fell to his knees in the snow outside. Jake watches him, a watery smile pulling at his mouth. Then he turns to the rest of the group. 

“We can make it work tonight, I think. Even if it’s light out. Even if there are soldiers. We shouldn’t wait.”

Jungwon’s heart fucking soars. Constrained by an unrelenting tightness still, yes, but grateful for Jake’s support all the same. 

Taeyong nods with that look in his eyes that makes him such a good leader: empathy. Understanding where Jungwon’s coming from, and why he can’t wait. Likely understanding that if it were Mark, he’d be willing to rip the world apart at the seams too. That he wouldn’t waste a single second, or for better circumstances, to do so. 

“I agree,” he follows up, cool voice tinged with an edge of apprehension about what lies ahead. Even still, it’s like a wave of warm water rushes over the room, flushing them all through with reinvented vigor. The mood shifts and they move with it. They’re doing this. Tonight. 

Tonight. Tonight. 

The next breath Jungwon takes is a little easier. His mind clears enough for his subconsciousness to slow its panicked spinning for a blissful moment, with his friends now by his side. 

“Because of that soldier we’ll have to warn everyone to be more alert than ever,” Taeyong says, and though his tone is the same pitch as always, there’s a trembling to it that is hardly ever present. 

Taeyong’s communication with their people is always so well received because he’s invariably level-headed. He’s quick to understand, slow to anger. Quick to defend, slow to push away. The serene way in which he handles himself, and consequently acts as their leader, is one of the only constants Jungwon has ever known. But this is restlessness in him, evident in the slight shake of his hands and flitting gaze. Jungwon can’t quite comprehend it, never having seen his older friend like this. 

“We’ll go as fast as we can,” Taeyong continues. “If the snow starts up again as heavy as earlier, the darker skies will be in our favor. Jungwon, of course, will lead the way.”

Jungwon’s nod is jerky at best. 

There’s a moment- no more than a few seconds- that they all look at each other. Jungwon knows they’re all taking a deep breath, collectively wondering how much shit this night will put them through. How much will be different by this time tomorrow night. 

“Okay,” Taeyong murmurs. He doesn’t clap his hands together or jump around on the balls of his feet. He doesn’t act like this is a matter to be excited about- because it’s fucking terrifying. How much could change. How much could go wrong.

They don’t linger. 

“Let’s get everyone in here,” is the last thing Jungwon notes Taeyong saying before time turns into an obscurity. 

But- before the compound lights are switched from green to orange, before the raiders gather in the ring to receive information about their sudden plans, before Jungwon flees the room to prepare- Sunghoon’s hand is on his shoulder. 

He doesn’t know when Sunghoon crept from the other end of the table to his side. But the older says everything he came over to say without a single word. The look on his face tells, as do the fingers looped around Jungwon’s wrist, that he’s going to stand by Jungwon, and that he believes they have a chance too. 

»

Stepping into his room is like escaping a fold in reality. It’s not real here, where Jungwon trips over his own feet while digging through drawers for warmer clothes, then rummaging through one of the nightstands for more daggers. 

The knives go to thigh holders, sleeves, pants pockets. Inside his jacket. Tucked into each of his boots. He changes his socks before that; thicker ones that aren't soaked through with water. His boots are still drenched. There’s nothing to be done about that. Different pants. New shirts- two of them. Jacket. Coat. The beanie Jay always joked makes anyone who wears it look bald. Jungwon’s gun is lying on top of the dresser. Then it's reloaded. Then it’s on his hip, and none of this is fucking real.  

Because the next time Jungwon comes into this room Jay might be with him. 

Alarmed by the frantic pounding in his chest, Jungwon pauses by their bed, layered up and on fire with anxiety and breathing far too heavily. And- oh god, that’s just not fair. Their bed. 

When it hasn’t been- not really. For ten months, it’s had one occupant, and one alone. What a devastation it would be if Jungwon were to come back alone. Alone, still. Jay lost to the expanse of the unknown world. Suffering, still. 

Jungwon… he can’t even consider it. And maybe it's the most toxic mindset he could have going into this. Maybe it will fucking kill him if this facility isn’t the one Jay’s in, just like Niki warned him. But there’s no other choice for him. In order to function throughout this journey, this is what he has to do. What he has to chant to himself over and over again, when he knows it might just not turn out that way. 

No. 

No, he won’t have that. 

Jungwon turns off the lights with a decisive flick, and the door to their room closes behind him with a resounding slam.

Chapter Text

Jungwon walks down hallways he’s walked hundreds of times before. He turns corners he’s turned just as many. The floor below is the same as always, the lights overhead are just as bright and striking as normal. Everything is the same, except it isn’t. 

Those passing by aren’t nodding their heads or throwing a tiny smile his way. They are running past to get to their rooms to change and ready their weapons, they’re hurrying to the storage rooms to shove extra blankets and jackets in their backpacks for those they save tonight. 

Aside from the chaos swamping Jungwon’s senses, there is the matter of his heart: beating wildly against his ribcage, more anxious than ever to get moving. He tries to maintain the same hard-nosed determination he felt just two minutes ago when he was pulling the bedroom door shut, but throwing himself into the very environment that reminds him of what they’re getting ready to do makes focusing on that significantly more challenging. 

Picking up the pace to a jog, unable to stand the restlessness a mere walk provides, Jungwon skirts around small groups of people and other individuals racing past him back the way he came until he reaches the last hallway leading to the front entrance. That’s where he stops, forcing his addled mind a moment’s pause, mentally checking he has everything he needs on him. After ghosting his fingers over all the places his weapons are hiding, and across the loaded magazines tucked safely away inside the front of his jacket, he comes up short of any more reasons to evade Sunoo. 

And Sunoo is there when he rounds the corner, just as Jungwon expected, watching him as soon as he comes into view. Jungwon approaches him, no matter how much he doesn’t want to hear “What you did today was ignorant and risky” and “How could you go after that soldier all on your own?” right now. 

He’s sure Sunoo’s had ample time in the ten minutes since their group meeting with the raiders to piece together the wrath he’s withheld from raining down on Jungwon just yet. And Jungwon dreads the scolding, struggling to see how his going off the radar for a couple hours truly matters in light of potentially finding Jay tonight. Finding him. 

But Jungwon also knows he’s being unfair. Sunoo- and Niki and Heeseung and Jake- and all of them have every right to say whatever they want to him. His absence due to following the soldier was sudden and unexplained to everyone he left behind. He wouldn’t go back and change anything, as that would mean this chance wouldn’t exist, but he can shoulder their valid disappointment and anger in return. 

Jungwon reaches his older friend, stops in front of him. Sunoo’s eyes are sharp, cutting from the handgun peeking out behind the curtain of his jacket, to the slope of his shoulders, to his face. Whatever he’s looking for he seems to find. Or maybe he doesn’t. Jungwon’s never had trouble reading Sunoo before, but in this moment he can’t fathom what the older is thinking. 

“You need to eat,” is what comes out of Sunoo’s mouth, of all things. Jungwon, caught off guard, doesn’t respond at first. Sunoo raises the small bag Jungwon hadn’t noticed he’s been holding this whole time toward him. Jungwon refuses the offer with a light push of his hand. 

“No,” he mutters. It hasn’t been long since he spoke, but his voice comes out raspy anyway. 

Sunoo’s eyes are pools of sadness. There’s no better way to describe that look, bordering on pity, already in the arena of blatant concern. Jungwon turns his face away, noting there’s hardly anyone else here yet. There’s a clock ticking in his subconscious, reminding him how much precious time is being wasted. 

“You need your strength,” comes Sunoo’s gentle argument. 

No matter how grateful Jungwon is to save the real conflict for later, Jungwon won’t budge on this. Wasting time discussing arbitrary things instead of wasting time defending his decision to follow the soldier alone is still wasting time. 

“I won’t be able to keep it down.”

“Jungwon-”

Sunoo stops short as Jungwon’s eyes snap back to his. He must see whatever he didn’t see before because the fight bleeds out of him just like that. A hardly contained sigh is the last of it. 

Niki arrives when more raiders have trickled into the front entrance and weaves his way through the throng to clap a hand on Jungwon’s shoulder. There are no traces of hesitancy in his touch, in his expression, in his eyes. He’s as rugged and ready for a fight as always. Jungwon wonders if his younger friend is being crushed under the immense pressure of saving Jay tonight too, or if he’s just better at putting on a brave face than Jungwon. 

First calling Jungwon’s name to get his attention, Niki raises his voice over the swelling crackle of conversation around them. “I know you usually go to the control room with Jake when we first get in, but I’ll handle that tonight. You just get downstairs as fast as you can.”

Get downstairs to see if he’s there. He might be there. He might be there. 

Jungwon stands very still with his mouth parted around empty words, rendered immobile. No matter how many times he has this realization- that tonight may just be the night- he cannot process it. The hope rooting thick ties deep in his chest feels like it doesn’t deserve to exist at all; it’s been so long since he’s experienced it. 

Niki’s impenetrable persona crumbles a bit as he studies Jungwon’s expression. Merely a flicker of a crack in the mask, but it’s suddenly clear to Jungwon that Niki is just as terrified and expectant as he is, and that he’s just trying to be strong for him. 

Reaching a hand up and settling it over Niki’s, where it’s still resting on his shoulder, Jungwon swallows the growing lump in his throat and attempts a reassuring smile. He’s sure it doesn’t have its desired effect, but Niki, tried and true, understands anyway. Does his best to send the same gesture right back.  

“Okay?” Niki whispers, tone pitched higher than usual, which only happens when he’s trying not to cry. 

“Okay,” Jungwon whispers back. Sunoo is standing right over Niki’s shoulder, watching him too, and Jungwon’s overloaded heart makes a little more room for his adoration of them. His first family and life’s purpose after his mother’s death. Jungwon loves them so dearly. 

“Thank you,” he says, to them both. Their answering nods are precious to him. 

The isolated moment is engulfed by the clamor of their current environment soon enough. Jungwon’s ears buzz with chatter of weather and distance and danger. He rises to the tips of his toes, surveying the feverish crowd- there’s a lot of us gathered now, it’s almost time- and startles when there’s a firm touch at his upper back. 

“C’mon,” Taeyong says, to him, to Sunoo and Niki, and then they’re picking their way to the front where Mark, Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon are already waiting. Taeyong stops and turns, regards Jungwon only when he asks, “Still good to lead us?” 

Even if he felt he couldn’t, Jungwon would make it happen. At Jungwon’s confirmation, Taeyong considers the others, this handful of boys who lead their people and race headfirst into peril at the expense of their own safety, to guarantee the rescue of others. 

Jungwon is exceedingly grateful he came back. Their strength gives him power. Their fearlessness gives him courage. Their determination gives him assurance. Jungwon has no idea what these upcoming hours will hold, but they will be right behind him, beside him, in front of him, the whole time. 

Taeyong looks back over the massive group spilling out into the hallway. His jaw is set, his eyes are aflame, and he must determine they’re ready because he’s climbing the grated steps to the front door without a word. Jungwon goes up behind him. The warmth of the compound feels suffocating right now, but he knows it’s the last comforting temperature he’ll be feeling for a long while. 

The individuals who guard the metal door around the clock grind the gears open at Taeyong’s command, and then it’s open, and the icy winter wind is hitting Jungwon straight in the face, and he can’t fucking believe that he’s still upright when his head is spinning like this, when his soul aches for deliverance now more than ever. 

Taeyong steps out into the snow and moves aside, a signal for Jungwon to take the lead. Jungwon steps out into the snow and walks ahead and doesn’t look back at those filtering out into the midnight air behind him. Moving, despite everything, has never proved to be more difficult, but Jungwon has always pulled through against all odds. 

And they go, an entire people group with a common goal banding them all together. One with a burning in his gut and mind and eyes more desperate than all of them combined. 

»

The tree- his tree.

This means they’re two miles out. This means they have an astronomical amount left still. Jungwon is teetering on the very edge of the top of a building, about to lose his footing and his sanity with it. He’s floating off into the atmosphere. 

Somehow, the dampened sound of an abundance of footfalls packing down the snow behind him helps. Binds him to his own body enough to keep his head screwed on, tight enough. Enough to focus. Enough to lead them. 

For the second time, Jungwon does not glance at the spot buried under inches of white where the red used to be. 

»

Ten miles out. 

It’s been two and a half hours. 

Jungwon pushes the pace. His breath is rushing out of him. He doesn’t regret not eating, but he knows his strength is wavering already. It has been wavering, with nine hours of walking and seven more of running behind him. And so many ahead. 

But he pushes, pushes, pushes. 

»

The first problem arises halfway into the fourth hour. 

They’ve just cleared a stretch of land where the thin trees shoot up from the earth so closely together that no direct path is available. Jungwon glances back to ensure the others are weaving through the mess alright, catching Mark’s eye in the process. Jungwon can’t try for a smile, not even for him, not out here, so he turns forward again and- freezes. 

Panic seizes his heart, then a hot flush darts through his system. It scares him badly- that he doesn’t recognize where they are. So badly that he stops breathing. 

“All good?” Mark murmurs behind him, fingers looping tenderly around his wrist. He must have noticed Jungwon’s stonelike form, the rigidness in his upper body as he spirals into despair. 

He’s brought them all the way out here and he doesn’t know where to go next. This view is so unfamiliar and Jay- 

He wants to tell Mark. Wants to whimper, “I don’t remember,” if only to have a hand to hold through this. But he doesn’t. He’s wary of how badly that would scare Mark, how badly it would scare all of them. How quickly the alarmed whispers would snake back through the crowd, how quickly their morale would weather, or disintegrate completely.

Instead, he says, “Just- hold on. I need a second.” 

No one questions him, or holds him back. He starts jogging, knee protesting at the quickened pace, boots catching on snow clumps and hidden roots, head swiveling between his options as he goes a ways ahead. There’s a split in the scattering of trees, as if three different paths were carved out and laid before him. He slows to a halt, takes a deep breath that shakes in and out of him. 

He stares down each path, taking in the details, scouring over each little landmark that may jog his memory- and there, down the last makeshift path, he sees a blessedly familiar sight. The tree that’s blocking the way may have fallen during one of this winter’s snows, or maybe a couple months ago in the heat of summer. It doesn’t matter because Jungwon remembers hiking his legs up and over it both to and from the facility. 

The relief is exponential, but the celebration is subdued. Someone approaches him at a half-run. 

“All good?” Mark asks again. 

Jungwon hums. He twists to motion everyone forward, but they’re already heading his way. 

Trust is a beautiful, terrifying thing. Jungwon can only hope he doesn’t fail them. 

»

It starts to snow again. Everyone is shivering uncontrollably, the kind of spasms that bombard every muscle and make everything about movement- the worst kind. Far past uncomfortable, edging on unbearable.  

Jungwon worries about Niki, about Heeseung and Jake. Mark. Taeyong. Sunghoon, who was looking quite out of it before they even left the compound. Sunoo, who usually stays behind and prepares for the broken and bloodied and bruised to be delivered to his care. 

Jungwon worries and worries. But there’s literally nothing he can do. 

»

Jungwon has just checked his watch (it’s nearly five in the morning so there’s roughly three more hours to go) when Jake slips and falls.

His legs must’ve gone out from under him so quickly, he didn’t have the chance to catch himself in the slightest. Jungwon whirls around at Jake’s yelp, just in time to watch his friend scrape the fuck out of his face on the jagged upturned branch of a log lying- now adjacent to him- on the forest floor. 

The aftermath is a quiet affair, but only because it has to be. 

Jake sits listlessly in the snow, appearing to be in a state of shock until he reaches up to his cheek and his dark blue glove comes away dark red. Heeseung is already kneeled before him, already devoid of his own gloves so he can cup Jake’s face with his bare hands. 

Sunoo’s there then, drawing cloth out of his bag; there will never be a day that he comes out here unprepared. He nudges Heeseung’s quivering touch away to assess the damage- which, after cleaned an infinitesimal amount, appears to be a gash on the flat line of Jake’s jaw, traveling all the way up to his cheekbone from the wood dragging against it during the fall. 

Jungwon stands, still and useless at the edge of the huddle, heart in his throat. Jake’s gritting his teeth against what must be searing pain as Sunoo does the best he can with the little he has. Heeseung’s hovering right there, one hand on Jake’s thigh, the other, stained red, carding back through Jake’s dark hair. 

There’s just so much fucking blood. Everywhere. All over Jake’s face and streaking in horrible rivulets down his neck. On his shirt, his pants, the snow below him. 

How quickly circumstances change. It makes Jungwon’s stomach churn. Jake could’ve gouged his fucking eye out, could have been forced to navigate the rest of this life half-blind because of one freak accident. He could have fallen on that branch instead of being dealt a scathing scrape instead. 

Things change so, so quickly. The loss of that control- though it never truly belonged to Jungwon in the first place- is disorienting. Sobering.
I can’t protect them, is on repeat in Jungwon’s head. I can’t protect any of them and I’m leading them straight into this. 

Sunoo finishes up with expert hands in record time. Jake’s cheek is rubbed raw and still bloody, inevitably, since the first layer of skin was peeled away, but the major gash near his jaw is patched up as well as it can be for now. Jungwon hears Sunoo telling Jake it’ll do until they get back to the compound and he can take a closer look at it. 

Rising back to a standing position, Sunoo slings his med bag across his front. Heeseung asks Jake if he’s okay to get up. Jake nods. Heeseung helps him to his feet, frets over the snow all over his pants, seeping in and likely making the wind chill and flurry of snow feel ten times worse. But Jake merely lets out an audible breath before catching Heeseung’s hands where they’ve paused over the sheer amount of blood soaked around the collar of the shirt under his jacket. 

Heeseung stills at Jake’s contact, and Jungwon can’t force himself to look away as a silent conversation passes between them. Heeseung pleads to care now, to hold now. Jake answers, Later. 

It’s so achingly familiar to Jungwon. Communication always tinged with an ache for more, always quiet, always completely understood, always respected. 

Heeseung backs down under Jake’s pointed gaze. He presses their palms together, blotched rusty red. Intertwines their fingers. 

Jungwon does look away then, only to realize everyone else is watching him. Waiting. 

Feeling caught, Jungwon struggles to shove his resolve back to the forefront. Jake stands before him like nothing happened, and though worse things have certainly been inflicted on him in the past, this particular instance is affecting Jungwon greatly. 

“Jungwon.” Jake’s voice is so soft when he addresses him. It always is. The older boy shakes his head. To him, this is no big thing. “I’m okay.”

Jungwon says nothing. 

God, I can’t fucking protect you. Any of you. 

He could cry. He turns around instead. 

»

The hill that is going to take a lot (everything) out of Jungwon stretches tall and mighty above him, just as daunting as it was when he encountered it the first time. He hears labored breaths of his friends right behind him, hears the mass of the rest of the raiders coming up behind them. This is exhaustion they all know by heart, but the familiarity doesn’t make it any easier. 

Jungwon only pauses a moment more before starting the trek, weariness be damned. He has a destination. His heart hasn’t stopped racing for hours, and that has nothing to do with the brisk pace he’s pressed for. 

He grapples against the burn in his thighs, his calves. His knees are nearly up to his chest with each sprawling lunge to combat the ridiculous incline and he’s flinging snow about with every step he unearths from sinking into the snow. 

Halfway up, he plants a foot sideways to pause and check behind him. Everyone’s doing mostly okay. Except Sunghoon, who definitely looks worse than earlier. He’s moving ceaselessly, one foot after the other, but there’s a hunch to his form that suggests he’s feeling like shit. Jungwon would go down to help him if Niki didn’t already have it covered, urging the older boy forward and shouldering quite a bit of his weight. 

The rest of the climb is more impossible than the first half, and seems twice as long. But Jungwon chases the sound of the waterfall until he finally makes it to the top. 

There, he flicks trained eyes over the distance, but spots nothing of concern. No one of concern. They’ve been meticulously alert, but no soldiers have been spotted. Jungwon hasn’t given it the time of day, thoughts fully preoccupied elsewhere, but it makes the presence and lengthy journey of the soldier he followed that much more inexplicable. 

Jungwon hears a strained grunt behind him, and jolts into action. It’s Sunghoon. 

“I got him,” Jungwon assures Niki, reaching out for Sunghoon’s arms to pull him over the crest of the hill. Niki nods, waiting to make sure they’re stable before going to help others up as well. 

“Jesus,” Jungwon mutters under his breath once Sunghoon’s on level ground. His friend is shaking, too violently to be blamed on the cold alone. The sweat beading along his hairline and the gauntness of his face points more toward feverish sickness than mere chilliness anyway.

Sunghoon seems to come back to himself, still seriously winded and gripping Jungwon’s arm like he’ll fall right the fuck over if he doesn’t, but now aware of Jungwon’s concern. 

“Not feeling great?” Jungwon asks lowly, in case Sunghoon isn’t keen on someone else hearing. Which doesn’t make a lot of sense considering anyone with eyes could glance at Sunghoon and know he’s not doing well, but. Still. 

Sunghoon huffs out a tiny laugh through his nose. It doesn’t fit here, with what they’re doing and where they’re going, but Jungwon’s worry for him is slightly eased all the same. 

“Not great,” Sunghoon admits, smiling faintly. It falters as a harsh burst of wind blows in from the direction of the waterfall. A shiver glides through his shoulders like a ripple. He swallows hard before adding, “But I’ll push through.” 

Jungwon stares at him, thoroughly unimpressed, but Sunghoon doesn’t let up and it’s not like they have any option but to keep going. Jungwon allows a minute window for raiders to reach the end of the climb, which is much more gracious with their time than he’d like to be. 

He starts toward the waterfall, guiding the group to steer clear of the slush surrounding the base of the pool. He keeps a cautious hand around Sunghoon’s elbow for a bit, but Sunghoon insists that he’s fine on his own and Jungwon lets him be. 

Jungwon forgets, almost, that this is everyone else’s first time seeing the waterfall. He catches the awe on Mark and Taeyong’s faces. Niki, right behind them, has his mouth hanging open, attention absolutely unmoving from the gigantic, incredible sight even as he walks. Jungwon’s heart aches as he looks back to the front, hit directly in the face with ruthless winter cold and biting snowflakes, wishing his youngest friend was experiencing this under entirely different circumstances. 

»

The next notable landmark they come upon is the hill on which Jungwon fucked up his knee. Said knee begins to throb, as if his body didn’t quite remember to register the full abundance of pain until he recalled how it happened. 

The piercing grind of the injury is wildly distracting, but Jungwon clenches his jaw against it and holds the breath that’s punched out of him when his foot accidentally rolls on the way down the slope. 

Finally reaching the bottom, Jungwon stands in the frozen slush and shakes out his bad leg for a moment, rotating to ensure the other boys make it safely down. Distracted by watching Sunghoon release a fatigued breath and come to a quaking stall as he droops to rest his hands on his knees, Jungwon realizes a second too late that he wasn’t keeping his own facial expression in check in the meantime.

He wipes what was definitely a grimace off his face before glancing around, stopping short when he realizes he’s the subject of Niki’s watchfulness. His friend’s observant eyes flick to Jungwon’s leg, a question there, but Jungwon puts his foot back down and evens out his weight again. 

Niki's head tilts in question, but Jungwon shakes his own. Not now and Don’t worry and Don’t bother all in one. 

Jungwon leads them on, away from the steep hill, and Niki doesn’t seek him out to prod. 

»

Jungwon does not start tearing up when they hit the seventh hour of their journey, but it’s a near thing. 

Morning light is a mockery. The snowfall and general dreariness of the climate ensures it won’t get much brighter than it is now, but that is not a comfort to Jungwon. 

Seven hours, and with their slower pace, an unknown amount of miles to go. No matter Jungwon’s punishing pace, fueled by the desperation ripping through his system to just get there, he can’t control the unhinged nature of the past day’s weather, and he can’t deny that the conditions outside have worsened considerably even since he was running back to the compound last night. 

The snow is at least ankle-deep everywhere now, and soaking Jungwon’s pants up to his knees in other areas. He can’t help thinking about how difficult it’s going to be to carry or guide those they save tonight back through all this. He can’t help thinking about how one of them could be Jay. He can’t help it. 

Pressure at Jungwon’s arm makes him pause. 

“Someone fell again,” Sunoo explains quietly. Jungwon heeds the unspoken request to stop, following his friend’s eyes back a ways where a huddle has formed around someone that took a particularly nasty looking tumble from a misstep. 

Jungwon waits and watches and quakes in the cold. Sunoo’s hand remains on his arm. It’s a comforting weight, familiar. Jungwon is feeling far too much at once. 

Distress is ever-present in everything he thinks. It’s closing in on his perception of everything he sees, making black spots appear in the outskirts of his vision, making his hands curl into fists. He’s so earnest to get there, to fight, to search, to find, that the vicious urge to leave all these people that are hindering him behind. Fuck the foolishness of showing up on his own, fuck his own safety, he just has to be there. 

But he cares for his people and he cares about their wellbeing and he wants to lead them there with as much cautiousness as possible. Which means he needs to be here, with them. 

So the war between his morals and his desires rages on. And it is so fucking cold. It’s unendurable. The very real fear that someone could die out here due to overexposure lingers at the corner of all his other concerns. With how unpredictably the snow has been flexing between heavy and light falls, Jungwon doesn't realistically think it’ll be in their favor on the way back. All the more disheartening. 

“Are we close?” Sunoo asks, so softly it’s nearly drowned out by the howling whistle of the wind. Regardless, Jungwon doesn’t miss the thin tone of his voice. He’s tired. They all are. 

Jungwon looks away, an anguished sickness flushing through him like the icy chill. Because he doesn’t know how close they are. This is the part of the forest that was so alien to him before, so he’s at a loss. He clings to the hope that how long it's been indicates they haven’t got much to go. 

He doesn’t answer Sunoo. He’s sure that tells the older everything he needs to know. 

»

There’s a wave of gasps around Jungwon, stretching out behind him, when the facility lights come into view, blinking through the spaces between the barren trees. Relief is palpable. 

The world is bleak around him but those awful lights have never been brighter. The wind blows unyieldingly into Jungwon’s face, but he’s not registering the cold anymore. It is just the end drawing near, whatever that may be. He sees red, sees blood on his hands, sees Uni soldiers falling to the ground. He tastes vengeance. 

The myriad of his emotions is too overwhelming. Jungwon’s conscious thought checks out until the trees dwindle in number then stop entirely at the lip of the cliff that overlooks the valley. The facility is right there, whole and still and appearing exactly the same as it did when Jungwon was last here- some seventeen hours ago. 

He thinks some kind of noise must escape him, swaying at the precipice, thinking of how many precious seconds have passed since then- because someone takes hold of his arm and drags him down into a squat. 

“Shh, Jungwon,” someone else mutters, consoling, their hand coming up to stroke over the back of his beanie, but Jungwon doesn’t have the energy to pick out who it is. Fatigue hits him, begs to be acknowledged, lingers for a moment. Then the rage returns, earlier distress retreating, and Jungwon can-

He can feel the rallying. The angered energy ignited in the soul of every individual standing behind him. Standing over this place that’s only ever dealt out pain and ruined lives and ended so many more. 

Shifting on his feet to cater to the prickling in his legs, Jungwon roves his eyes over the entire facility. Nothing looks or seems out of place. 

They don’t know we’re here. 

“Hey,” Sunghoon whispers, squeezing Jungwon’s upper arm hard enough that he actually gets his attention. Pointing at the decline into the valley, Sunghoon says, “It’s steep. Be careful.”

Jungwon manages a curt nod, hearing him but dismissing it quickly, already looking back to check if the raiders have successfully made it to this point. And there they are, crouched, waiting, watching the front lines, meeting his eyes, matching his fire with flames of their own. 

They are the proof of the hand Unification has played in their suffering. They’re here because they’ve lost mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and lovers and friends to facilities just like this, to soldiers just like the ones who are down there in it. He sees their grief, their anger, their hunger for revenge. It motivates Jungwon more than words ever could. It protects him more than the security of any weapon. 

They’re ready for this. They’re ready. 

Jungwon’s ready.

Taeyong’s hand on his back. Sunghoon’s eyes trained on the facility below. Mark’s grip on his gun, Sunoo’s soft edges sharpening in an instance, Niki’s set jaw, Jake’s jittering fingers, Heeseung’s unmoving figure. 

Jungwon rises, the rustle of an army backing him, snow whipping around him. He doesn’t hesitate stepping off the edge because he’s had ten months to imagine the moment Before. And he’s done fucking waiting.

»

Despite Sunghoon’s warning, Jungwon underestimates just how steep the hill is. He almost loses his balance in his haste to move, but rights himself enough to regain his footing several paces later. 

And each footstep is a lifetime.

It seems a year has passed when he reaches the bottom of the ravine and begins to race across the length of the valley. The field is flat, so there’s no preamble to the snow- it’s just piled up and smooth save the footprints left behind by the soldiers that walk the outside perimeter on the hour, every hour. But it’s not that time, so there’s not a soul to stand in their way until they reach the front gate. 

Fine powder kicks up around Jungwon’s boots as he grates to a stop, catching himself on the cement part of the facility’s outer wall, thankful for the momentary covering. The metal gate positioned in the middle of the wall has openings woven between the wiring that would reveal their presence instantly, but the soldiers in the yard are few compared to those inside the actual facility, and they’re not paying any attention anyway. 

The second enough of them have made it to the wall, they move together to the gate. Heels sink through the snow, digging into sticky mud for purchase. Hands splay across metal wiring, overlapping each other, reaching every inch of space available. They push collectively, driving power into it, and the gate goes down as easily as it always does, as if not even an inanimate object wants to stand on Unification’s side. 

With the gate out of the way, the rest falls in place. The few soldiers in the outside yard are killed in the blink of an eye, but Jungwon notices one swiping their keycard and slinking inside to set off the alarms before they’re caught. Even though their intention is to warn those within the facility, Jungwon isn’t swayed to think anything’s ruined. This happens most raids- they are unable to officially get inside without their presence being made known first, but they still come out on top every time. 

It’s with this mentality that Jungwon enters the facility. His heart is hammering in his chest but his way is steady and his aim is sure. His hands don’t shake as he kills; they rarely do. Today is different anyway. 

He never shows mercy, but today he does not hand out slow deaths to make them suffer, he just gets them out of his way. He never goes about his business sloppily, but today he is swift in a manner that nixes any chance any opponent has at gaining the upper hand over him. 

The alarm has been tripped by now, layering the entrance area in red pulses at one second intervals. In, out. In, out. In and out the color goes, and it used to be incredibly unsettling. Now Jungwon’s actions don’t falter even when what he’s seeing is being flushed a blurring deep red hue every other second. 

An ear-piercing ring is part of the alarm too, but that doesn’t pause, just blares consistently. It’s more obnoxious than anything. Jungwon can still hear the soldier he shoves to the ground groan in spite of it though, can still hear them choke on their own blood when he drives his knife down into one weak part of the full-body suit, right at the collarbone, below the neck. He wonders if it’s sick of him to be glad to hear their agony on the brink of death. 

Jungwon does not stay and revel in it when they go motionless at his feet. He merely snatches the keycard from their pocket and heads straight for the doors that lead to the downstairs level. 

A soldier interrupts his path and it pisses him off. The force he uses to bash his gun into the side of their head knocks them right off balance. They’re smaller than Jungwon, even with the suit, and simply drop with another kick. Jungwon fires a shot through their chest, right at the heart. The suit protects them from the outside air they can’t breathe, not bullets. Jungwon steps over the body. 

He switches his gun to his left hand, swipes the keycard through the reader with his right. Green light, subtle beep, internal click. The doors open from the split in the middle, rolling away into the walls on either side. Jungwon tucks the keycard away deep in his front pocket, then smashes the hilt of his gun into the viewing screen on the opposite wall, ensuring the doors will remain open when sparks go flying. 

And that’s that. Jungwon’s the first going down. Exhale stuttering out of him with every step, Jungwon races the lengthy set of stairs. The lights still dim to red down here, but the scream of the alarm fades with distance. At the bottom, it’s mostly silent, save for commotion upstairs. The hallways span down both directions, taunting with their secrets. Jungwon is here, finally, but he can’t see into all of the rooms at once. 

There’s a sudden thundering of footsteps descending the stairs toward him, but Jungwon lowers his gun when he sees it’s Taeyong. His leader doesn’t touch him, doesn’t say anything, merely meets his eyes for a millisecond and juts his chin to the left. Jungwon doesn’t hesitate in following the order, splitting left as the older turns right. Because Jay could very well be on this side; Jungwon doesn’t know. Agonizing over which direction to take is only a waste of time. 

Fingers wrapped about his gun, knees bent in a defensive stance, Jungwon hurries around the corner into the first hallway. And promptly runs right into a soldier. 

The collision stuns him for a moment, but he regains his footing and manages to knock the gun prodding at his chest away from the soldier’s hand. It rattles to the floor a few paces away- and the soldier’s hands are free. Jungwon veers away from their flying punch the best he can, but their fist still catches the side of his nose, the hollow border of his eye. 

The pain starts as a deep ache, then leaps forward with all its ferocity in the next breath. It sends Jungwon’s head reeling, but he’s too busy cursing himself as his own gun is struck from his hold in the split second he was trying to recover. 

The soldier steps back and kicks him in the chest, but Jungwon doesn’t hit the floor as they probably intended. Instead he plants his feet and launches at the soldier’s middle, arms tight like a vice around their waist. 

The soldier hits the floor hard and it rips a deep groan from them, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the sound of a new arrival. Jungwon instinctively tucks into a roll off the soldier so he can actually see and- a metal pole thwacks down exactly where he was just a moment ago, which is now the soldier’s chest. 

Jungwon springs to his feet, focused on the new soldier. The first is clearly in pain from the previous hit and likely won’t be up for a few seconds. Jungwon plans to use the respite to his advantage. 

He eyes the soldier’s weapon, shuddering internally all the same. It’s an awful looking thing,  dented in the middle, sharp around the edges. Jungwon doesn’t even want to imagine how much hurt it has imposed on those trapped here. 

The soldier regains their composure after striking the entirely wrong target easily enough. The pole comes whizzing through the air toward Jungwon’s side, but he eludes it. Jumps back, then to the left, then back again, all while the soldier tries diligently to get a hit in. They’re fast, but Jungwon’s faster. Smarter. Angrier. He wants to win more. He has more to lose.

He grasps onto one end of the pole after another of the soldier’s failed attempts, ignoring the intense prick of metal slicing into his left palm, and holds fast. It’s easy after that. A slash that gets through to the soldier’s knuckles- they release the pole with a miserable howl- then a jab into the hip. 

Steel goes cleanly into the weaker suit material there- weaker for their mobility, weaker for Jungwon’s convenience- soundlessly, overridden by hoarse cries that Jungwon doesn’t even care to hear anymore. It’ll kill them, but not instantly. Jungwon has tired of these diversions. 

He wrenches the dagger out, clamps a hand around the back of their neck, and half-hauls, half-throws them behind him in a gush of pure adrenaline. He feels it coursing through his veins, thick and hot. It makes him forget the twinge in his knee and the pang in his nose and the burn in his palm. 

Stalking toward the soldier where they’re sprawled, face mask to the tile, Jungwon’s mind is already displaced. He’s peering into the viewing windows of all the rooms in this hall, then moving on to the next. And the next. And the next. First though, he needs the peace of mind that this soldier won’t be able to live on to see another day by some means of medical aid- 

A great force rams into his back. Jungwon’s shoved into the wall adjacent to the soldier below and his forehead smacks into the cement. It’s momentarily blinding as Jungwon begins to struggle. The pressure against him remains despite his efforts, holding him firmly in place with his hands pinned together behind his back. Moving his head to the side, Jungwon pieces together that the first soldier who’d taken the pole to the chest is now behind him. 

He cranes his neck to look further, spotting the soldier attempting to swipe the abandoned pole off the floor with one hand while the other is still wrapped around his wrists. And Jungwon is so tired of this shit. 

He throws his body backwards and bucks the soldier off of him, exactly like he did in a dirty alleyway in the abandoned city three years ago, the day he met Jay. The day Jay saved him by throwing him a knife that allowed him to take a life to save his own. 

Today, he pulls a knife from the strap fastened about his leg and plunges it into the thigh of the soldier behind him. Exactly like he did in a dirty alleyway in the abandoned city three years ago. The day he met Jay. 

And he’s all Jungwon’s thinking about while grabbing hold of the soldier and throwing them into the wall instead, administering a gash to their side that has them slumping into cement with garbled noises of torment. He’s all Jungwon’s thinking about when another soldier comes skidding around the corner at the other end of the hallway, gun in hand, staving off the death of the soldier under Jungwon’s knife for a few more useless seconds. 

The soldier at the far end wastes no time, but Jungwon doesn’t either. 

When they shoot, Jungwon has already thrown his dagger. It’s already buried in their neck at a disturbing angle. Jungwon’s already yanked the soldier who was next to him in front of him. 

The bullet doesn’t touch him. 

The struggling and the gurgling and the noises from the person held fast to his chest stop and Jungwon lets go of the body, uncaring of the thump it makes crashing to the floor. The other soldier down the way crumples a second later and doesn’t so much as twitch again. 

It’s more of a lurching stagger than a walk, but Jungwon makes it back to the guns at the mouth of the hallway nevertheless. Having the weapon back in his good hand, cool metal to sweltering skin, is comforting. He can defend himself without it, but someone could pick it up and use it against him if it’s not with him. He slides the other one- the soldier’s- into the holder at his waist, for the same reason. 

Jungwon realizes only now that he’s panting. This altercation wasn’t the most physically taxing he’s ever dealt with, but his energy is seriously dwindling. He’s feeling it, more pronounced than before, in the form of a trembling that won’t leave him. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tight for a moment, but forces them open again in the next, reminded of his unfinished job.

The closer he gets to the soldier who first tried to attack him with the pole, the clearer their groaning becomes. The blood from the wound at their hip is a puddle around them. The metal pole lies just out of their reach, dented and ugly and terrible. Their breathing is ragged and muffled, pressed against the mask that’s pressed to the floor, and Jungwon feels no ounce of sympathy for them. 

He was just going to use his gun, but instead he finds himself kneeling down, one pant leg getting drenched in the pool of coppery stench, the other propped on the opposite side of the soldier’s lax body so he can roll them to their front. He was just going to use his gun, but instead he finds himself using a dagger to slice open the seam connected their helmet to the body of the suit. 

With a heave, he rips the mask off, throws it, hears it smack off the opposing wall and clack against the floor. The outside air won’t get to the man revealed behind the mask immediately, but Jungwon watches as terror still blooms on the soldier’s face, realizing what he’s lost. The atmosphere from the natural world has yet to permeate this floor just yet, but this man understands that even without Jungwon here, the air would fill up his lungs and he would get sick and he would die a painful death, writhing in fits of suffering, choking on the very air of the world he believes he rules. 

And Jungwon takes it personally, that before today, this man enslaved and tortured and murdered innocent people- his people- for a lifetime, from a position of false superiority. So he personally delivers the last slit across the flushed skin at the soldier’s neck, so his face is the last the man sees. So the man understands, even in death, that Unification will not win today, or tomorrow, or in the ultimate end of everything at all. 

Jungwon comes back to himself, dripping crimson. The blood sprayed on his face; he can feel it itching around his mouth, trickling down his cheeks. It should disturb him tremendously, but he feels nothing but a quiet nudge of content staring down at blank eyes and a slack face. 

Move. You need to move. 

He tries, hoisting himself up off his propped knee, but his damn vision is tilting again and he gets tripped up on the soldier’s legs. He catches himself with his hands- just barely- before his fatigued arms give out and he falls sideways. Sitting on his ass, trying valiantly to regroup, Jungwon is only vaguely alarmed by the person sprinting past the hallway, then back-tracking once they seem to catch sight of him. 

Then they’re hurrying toward him, and Jungwon has the sense to start panicking at the same time he realizes it’s Sunghoon. 

The older boy tugs him up off the floor without a single word, pulsing red lights making his face look grave. Jungwon checks him over mindlessly, a hasty glance, but he seems alright, especially considering how pale and shaken he’d looked earlier. It’s probable that adrenaline is spurring him on, giving him strength. 

Jungwon notices a young woman enter the hallway over Sunghoon’s shoulder, keycard in hand. Another raider trails after her. Jungwon is anxious to properly begin his search, but Sunghoon’s concerned voice sidetracks him a moment more. 

“Is any of that yours?” Sunghoon asks, eyeing the blood on his face, but looking over the entirety of him, really. Jungwon doesn’t have the time to explain that the blood on his hand is his while the rest is not, so he just denies it with a shake of his head. 

At that, Sunghoon lets go of his arms and Jungwon stops looking at him, finally in the clear to direct his attention to the rooms in this passage. He checks the first and the second through the glass windows, their doors wide open due to the raiders already inside. He moves on, checks the third and fourth, the fifth and sixth and seventh. No Jay. 

He’s just looked into the eighth- no Jay- when a pair of soldiers race into the hallway at the other end, obviously having escaped the bloodbath upstairs. Jungwon shouts to get Sunghoon’s attention, but the older is already on it. And apparently he’s deemed the metal pole as good of a weapon as any, swinging it into the gut of the first soldier he can reach with a mighty crack. As they buckle at the waist, Sunghoon snaps his head toward Jungwon, shouts, “Go!”

Jungwon hesitates, observing the second soldier trying their hand at getting a hit in, but Sunghoon pulls out his gun and stops them in their tracks, and the raiders are coming out of the rooms they were previously in anyway. Sunghoon catches his eye again, and Jungwon can see, even from this distance, the wrinkle between his eyebrows that conveys it’s non-negotiable. 

“Jungwon, go!” 

Jungwon’s heart jumps from his chest to his throat at the admission. Being exempted from this duty to fulfill another: finding Jay. He might be here- he could be here, in one of these unsearched rooms-

Jungwon takes off running, skirting around the back way into the next hall, left hand curled around the hilt of a dagger, right hand clenched around his gun. In the second passage, he meets no soldiers. He checks all eight rooms. No Jay. 

The same events play out in the third passage.

And the fourth.

And the fifth. 

And the sixth. 

In the seventh, he’s checked half the rooms when a soldier hobbles after him, haggard in appearance, clearly already injured. Jungwon’s surprised they made it this far at all; by the rising noise level behind him, Jungwon can safely assume more and more of their people have brought the remainder of the fight downstairs. Jungwon shoots the soldier before they’ve even raised their rifle all the way. 

The lockdown alarm shuts off while he’s in the eighth passage. The pulsing red lights go with it. Jungwon is fleetingly relieved, knowing that the only one who’s really figured out how to do that in the Unification control room is Jake, which likely means he’s okay. Now it’s just cement and tile, white and gray, everywhere. And no Jay. 

In the ninth passage, no Jay. 

In the tenth. No Jay. 

Jungwon hastens along the eleventh, neck crying out from whipping back and forth to check between rooms. And room after room holds the face of a stranger. His heart cries out for them, these blameless individuals who have been trapped here and used, but they are not Jay, and Jungwon cannot stop for them. He will not stop for them. 

He finishes in that hall, and feels his breath catching as he rounds the corner to the last one on this side. Jungwon knows there’s still Taeyong’s side, knows there’s still twelve more passages with eight rooms each that he has not personally looked into yet. But he also knows that if Jay isn’t in one of these right here, Jungwon’s chances are down by half. And he hasn’t heard a shrill calling of his name yet, which he’s sure one of his closest friends would do if they were to find Jay on that side. 

For a moment, there are visions of inching back to the compound through the snow, alone. Going back to their cold, dark room, alone. Collapsing in their bed, alone. There are flashes of gloves collecting dust in his drawer, of emotionally taxing meals pretending he’s eating enough, of sleepless nights and frigid mornings with his back against the tree that overlooks the spot where all of this started. 

Jay’s all Jungwon’s thinking about when he squints blurrily into the first room, spotting a middle-aged woman laying on her stomach, head resting on an outstretched arm. He’s all Jungwon’s thinking about, and Jungwon is so tired of this charade- trying and pushing and tearing the world apart just to come up with nothing, leaving Jay to suffer time and time again- and he doesn’t know if he can go back alone this time. 

It’s this heavy truth weighing his aching feet to the floor that causes him to miss the noise rushing at him until it’s too late. He’s only just whirled to face his attacker when a blur of black suit material latches on to him and takes him down to the floor at full speed. Jungwon’s back cracking on the floor is a shock to the system, of course, but the soldier’s immediate aggression in attempting to wrestle Jungwon’s gun from his own hands is even more so. 

Hands shoved up above his head in the struggle, holding steadfast to the weapon, Jungwon figures that the soldier likely isn’t carrying their own, hence why they want the upper hand so badly. Maybe they were already engaged in another fight, had theirs robbed away, and fled the scene in search of an easier target.  

Jungwon huffs, feeling the strain in his forearms when he tugs their tangle of arms down, striking the base of his gun into their mask, right about where their nose is. He uses the moment when their neck snaps backward to wriggle his thigh out from under them. They’re fucking heavy, but Jungwon ignores the burn in his right leg as he plants his foot flat on the floor and propels his hip to the side to force the soldier to roll off. 

Gun to their chest, Jungwon squeezes his index finger around the trigger- and nothing. 

“Shit,” he hisses, letting it clatter to the floor. He’s out of rounds, and has no time to reload the magazine now, not with the way that soldier’s clambering back, reaching for him with giant gloved hands. Instead, Jungwon nabs the dagger he’d misplaced in the scuffle and drives it into their lower stomach, lining their hip. 

Jungwon has never been stabbed, but he knows such a wound elicits a larger reaction than absolute silence. But that’s how the soldier is- absolutely silent- even as they jostle forward to fasten a hand around each of his wrists, even as they use Jungwon’s own grip to swiftly draw the blade clean out of themself. 

Half-gaping in muted horror at the display, Jungwon tries tearing his arms away from their relentless hands. But the soldier holds fast, and then starts squeezing, so forcefully it feels like his skin will chafe, like the muscles inside his arms are rubbing against each other. Jungwon’s right hand loses its strength and his hold cripples; he lets go of the dagger. 

The soldier releases a wrist to grab at it. With nimble, freed fingers, Jungwon snags another from the pocket near his knee and swishes at the soldier’s neck in an arc, intent on getting his weapon back and ending this fight in the same breath, but the soldier skitters just out of reach just in time, effectively letting Jungwon go in favor of avoiding his blade. 

Jungwon shakes out his wrists a couple times while mirroring the soldier getting to their feet. His spine coils and protests, positively aching from suffering most of the impact hitting the floor not long ago. 

His agitation with his search being derailed again dulls quickly in light of observing just how massive the soldier is, standing before him at their full, lofty height. Their build isn’t lithe by any means, made up of broad shoulders and muscled arms and legs and a wide torso- Jungwon is sure he would've still had this much trouble with them even if he’d had a full night’s sleep and a full stomach before. Jungwon would have probably been intimidated by them if he weren’t in this position, so close to something, whatever that may be; finding Jay or traveling back alone. 

But that fate is his, so Jungwon does not distinguish this soldier as the end. And Jungwon does not know fear, not in their name. 

They circle each other for a brief eternity, both with their fists raised, both holding one of Jungwon’s daggers. Thick blood is trudging down the soldier’s front from the stomach wound and leaving a ghastly, smudged trail under their boot; they’re dragging their foot, favoring their right leg. 

Jungwon positions his own feet securely, one behind the other. He’s ready for the jab when it comes, dodging the blade slicing through the air and trotting back a step. The soldier follows suit. Jungwon thinks distantly that he may have the upper hand due to their injury. A foolish assumption, he learns, as their arm swipes at him again, so quickly he only has time to lean his upper half backwards. 

That arm swings back though, immediately, and Jungwon’s not so fortunate this time. A piercing sting rips into his skin, right at his eyebrow. Pain sears deep in an instant, but Jungwon can’t be engrossed in the state of it because a hand entangles in the neck of his jacket and then he’s jerked forward, abdomen heading straight for the glint of the knife. 

Instinct saves him. Jungwon kicks his knee up into the soldier’s arm and snakes his fingers around their wrist to snap it upward at the same time. It has the desired effect of knocking the blade away from his midsection, but the soldier holds onto the dagger and doesn’t let go of it as Jungwon hoped. 

In the next moment, Jungwon’s head is pounding. He realizes he’s on the fucking ground again, courtesy of the soldier tossing him down with the purchase they had on the collar of his jacket. Back and shoulders in stitches of aches and soreness, Jungwon chokes on the breath he tries to suck into his lungs, struggling to get back to a functioning state after getting the air knocked out of him. 

The soldier looms over him, stepping closer and closer still. And Jungwon knows that if they find a way to get on top of him and pin his arms down, his chance to win this may cease to exist. And he can’t let that happen. 

So he scrambles backward, away, trying to come across his gun without taking his eyes off of the soldier’s weakening gait. Jungwon thinks that they have nothing to lose, clearly so close to dying and still trying their damndest to kill him. But Jungwon has everything to lose. So when the dagger comes down at him from above, and all he has time to do is throw his arm up to cover his face, that is his course of action. 

He doesn’t regret it, even as the torment of that hurt spreads like wildfire across his skin and snakes down his arm, because it gives him the dose of resolution he needs to move in spite of it. He doesn’t regret it, because the soldier slumps in exertion from the attack, and Jungwon finally has his opening. 

Twin lacerations to the inside of each ankle. A punt to the leg that makes their knee snap inwards, forces it to buckle, sends them down to the ground. Jungwon sweeps his hand back behind him and fumbles over the blessed rediscovery of his gun.

The rest comes with the practiced ease of experience- releasing the clip, discarding the empty one, and reloading a prepped magazine from the inside of his jacket into the chamber. It takes a few seconds. Maybe three, or four. 

The shot seems to ricochet off the walls when he pulls the trigger. It echoes in Jungwon’s ears, a welcome finality. 

Though only the upper body of the soldier falls on him, he’s so utterly exhausted that he still goes down to the floor. The wetness from the dead soldier’s chest and hip wounds seep into Jungwon’s clothes at an alarming rate; it’s this that manages to stir him from his hazy state. He feels… groggy, almost. But he’s still reminded of what needs to be done. 

It takes a good three tries for Jungwon to wiggle out from under the soldier since the adrenaline that urged him through the entire fight has been entirely zapped from his body. When he finally does get out, he tries to get up. Falls back on his ass, just like before. So dizzy all over again. 

He crawls instead. Shuffles on his hands and knees with his head bowed toward the floor, waiting to bump into the wall. The forearm that just took the brunt of the cut burns like a bitch, but Jungwon does his best to grind his teeth together and push past it. When he reaches the wall, he realizes he can’t fucking see out of his left eye. 

Wiping at it with clammy fingers, Jungwon is not surprised at all to see red when he brings them back down. He remembers the sting of the knife against his face. In another situation, he would touch gingerly at the wound, figure out where it is exactly and how much harm was actually done. Now, Jungwon merely does what he can to rub the blood away, then blinks until the red clumps up a little in his eyelashes and allows some of his vision back. 

He glances at the gash on the outer side of his right forearm, wincing as his split sleeve irritates it. It’s bleeding, badly, but Jungwon just doesn’t give a fuck. The breath rushing in and out of him is nothing apart from a wheeze- at least that’s what it feels like, he can’t really hear anything except the periodic thumping of his heartbeat in his ears- and his entire body hurts like hell and he’s so tired-

Jungwon looks across the way into the second room- a little girl- then stumbles toward the next set of rooms- a blonde haired man in the third- and turns his head to the fourth- another man, older than the last- and moves on again to peer into the fifth- a teenage girl with matted hair and broken posture. 

Coughing on the bile buildup in his throat, shaking his head against the blurriness in his vision, Jungwon is not right with himself when he looks into the sixth room. 

But as Everything clicks back into place, he is whole again. He is every bit the boy he was leading up to the second he knew Jay had been taken. 

It is over ten months worth of fear and grief and longing and desperation and guilt and fury. 

It is the trembling swipe of the keycard through the reader. 

It is the steel door slamming into the wall. 

And then it’s nothing at all but him. 

Chapter Text

Jay. Lying on his side, back to the wall, face to the door. Huddled in on himself, clutching the tangle of his arms to his chest. His eyes are closed, but he doesn't look like he’s sleeping. He looks like a corpse. Skull to the floor, dull skin on white tile. 

It doesn’t look like Jay at all, actually. But Jungwon knows. Would know him if the world was burning around him, would know him if his face was replaced with another’s. Jungwon knows his life and his breath, the shape of his shoulders in low light, the ebb and flow of his every move. 

Staggering over to him, kneeling before him, touching his cheeks and his hair and his shoulders- reverently, gently, so gently- is a hallucination with a bleary film over it. Jungwon will jolt awake any second. It’s a limbo stuck between a dream and a nightmare; it’s neither, and both.

He’s found him- found him- but when he touches him Jay doesn’t open his eyes. Doesn’t even stir. 

“Jay,” he sputters, the precious name getting caught in his throat and coming out ragged and unsettled. He says Jay’s name again. And again. He can’t help but touch him but he doesn’t dare to apply any pressure. His name, again. Again. Jay does not move. Jungwon starts to cry in earnest. 

In all of this- all these months, every second spent in the sweltering intensity of summer and bitter sting of winter in an effort to get him back- this has always been an option. An afterthought to every What if? A brutal reality lurking in the corner of every empty room of the compound, concealed behind every sentence and terrorizing every plan. 

This being: finding Jay doesn’t guarantee Jungwon will get him back. 

It’s fucking unthinkable that the end of this journey and being reunited with him would end in Jay being too far gone, already having drifted out of Jungwon’s reach forever, in Jay not waking up at all, but he’s- he’s not moving. And Jungwon is cripplingly, desperately helpless. 

“Jay,” he keeps pushing, babbling, knees nudging against Jay’s chest with how closely he presses in. “Open your eyes. Please, Jay- please. Wake up, c’mon-” 

There’s a blackish-purplish bruise sprawled out under Jay’s left eye. His cheekbones are protruding from his face, skin stretched tight over them. A tear slips off the bridge of Jungwon’s nose onto the ashen grayness of the older’s cheek. 

Shaky: “Jay.” Firm: “ Jay. Wake up.” He hiccups on the last words. He’s having trouble seeing past his tears. “Need you to look at me. I need you-”

Jungwon’s blood is on the floor beneath Jay’s head, dripping from his arm, his hand. Jungwon’s blood is on Jay’s cheek. Bile shoots up from Jungwon’s stomach, coats the back of his tongue with an acid that nearly makes him gag further; red is painted on Jay’s beaten, slack face, and it shouldn’t be there. It shouldn’t ever be there. 

Jungwon loses his balance even though he’s already knelt down, tipping in his distress- there’s red, purple bruising, eyes closed, why the fuck won’t he wake up- and his left elbow cracks against the floor next to Jay’s head. 

Maybe it’s the sound, or maybe the vibration against the tile directly next to him, but- Jay opens his eyes. 

His lids do not flutter. They do not blink apart slowly, they just open. He looks up at Jungwon and the world tilts, stops, fuses into a haze of movement as it starts again. Jungwon does not know what he says or what he sounds like for the following pocket of time. 

He is, however, heart-wrenchingly aware that for the first few frames Jay doesn’t react to his presence. 

Jungwon’s soul departs from him. Jay is clearly confused, but… what if it’s bigger than that? It’s been ten long months- closer to eleven- and Jungwon only has a generic idea of the suffering Jay has undergone in that time. He’s positive his worst imagination wouldn’t even skim the surface of what’s happened. Injury that led to head trauma, memory loss- Jungwon doesn’t know . But they’re possibilities. And ten months is a long fucking time for those sorts of conditions to set in. Jay may not recognize him at all. 

Jungwon waits, aching, bleeding. It’s torture, feeling no less powerless now even though he has Jay in his sight, but he tries to placate his stacato heartbeat by reminding himself of the very real (frail, cold, still) body beneath his hands. 

When the waiting game is over, Jungwon gets his answer to all those awful, despairing questions in the form of Jay’s trembling mouth. His discolored lips part around a breathy sort of sound, and then, in an instant, Jungwon’s long-term yearning to hear Jay’s voice again is fulfilled. Hushed and unimposing and puzzled, he says, “Won?”  

Jungwon’s soul slams back into his body and something bursts out of him- a laugh, a sob, elation and grief and fear intertwined. He rocks forward with it, knocking his forehead to Jay’s as softly as he can, his own vision going cross-eyed. 

“Yeah,” he chokes out wetly. He’s crying again. “Yeah, Jay, it’s me.”

Jungwon crouches there, lower back stiff from the prolonged position, head pounding, his entire being arrested by an inordinate sense of disbelief. To say these words to Jay. To be able to. 

Jay doesn’t respond. Jungwon pauses, nerve endings going cold as his system is subjected to another round of emotional whiplash. Because usually, when they’re this close, Jay’s breathing synchronizes with Jungwon’s. Usually, Jay intones a soft little sound. Usually, fingertips graze along his shoulder blade or back or waist, light, innocent, intentional. Jay’s way of letting Jungwon know he’s there, sharing that moment with him. 

Jay does none of those things, and it’s enough of a red flag for Jungwon’s crying to hitch as he draws back to properly look into the older’s face again. Jay’s eyes are muddled, heavy with an exhaustion so potent Jungwon knows here and now, even with his limited medical knowledge, that it will take a long, long time for Jay to feel truly rested again. And even more present than the fatigue is the far-away look in his gaze. It’s disconnected, and so very amiss from Jay’s all-consuming presence. Something sinks in Jungwon’s chest, ropy and dark, muck filling up his lungs and getting wedged between his ribs. 

“Jay,” he says, a ruptured wisp of a thing, because what else is he to do? What else could he even say? He’s dreamt of their reunion a thousand times, but he didn’t think it would be like this, confusion robbing Jay of consistent recognition of who Jungwon is. Or maybe that Jungwon’s actually here. Whatever it is, the older’s eyes don’t stray from him. A crease pulls between his eyebrows and doesn’t fade away. 

Jungwon corners his resolve, staring it straight in the eye and telling it to lock itself the fuck down for a few more hours. The tears, the fear, the tiredness- that can wait. All of it can wait, but Jay cannot. Jungwon has him now, and he’s sure as fucking hell not going to let something happen to him before he can get him back to the compound. 

Resolution in check, Jungwon swallows, throat clicking roughly against all the words he won’t say until later. He runs through a mental checklist. Get Jay upright; it may help the older get ahold of his bearings a little more. Get help; he can carry Jay by himself if he needs to, but Jungwon doesn’t know the extent of his injuries and the thought of hurting Jay (any further than he already is) just because he’s trying to handle him by himself is unacceptable. Get out; though the majority of the soldiers are likely taken care of, they can never be too careful. Get to the compound; assuming they’re in the clear just because they flee the area surrounding the facility is how Jay was fucking taken in the first place. 

“Okay,” he breathes to himself, then to Jay, “Okay. C’mon, Jay, we’re gonna get you up.” Jay is unresponsive.

Limbs protesting with every move, Jungwon straightens so he can have better leverage to help Jay sit up. Keeping his voice low and mostly free of panic, Jungwon guides Jay through the motions of moving positions. 

“Good, you’re doing good. I know it hurts-”

Jay is silent, going where Jungwon leads him without a sound, right up until his torso twists as he’s propped to sit against the wall. That’s when his expression scrunches into a wince and he lets out a snipped whistle of pain that makes Jungwon’s heart clench in his chest. 

“I know, baby, I know- I’m so sorry,” he cries softly, hands flitting uselessly around Jay’s midsection because he can’t do anything to help him, but Jay doesn’t move again or make any more noise. Jungwon’s stomach plummets, sick with uneasiness as the older’s face falls blank once again. Deliberately blank. A facade to mask that he’s in pain. Jungwon agonizes over how many times he’s had to save face in front of the abusers who were very recently running this place, then, how terrifyingly bony his knee feels when Jungwon’s hand skates over it.  

Somehow, sitting up like this, Jay looks even smaller than he did laying on the floor. It’s so fucking scary. Jay has always been larger than life. He’s always been confident stances and squared shoulders with his defined jaw and arms and presence. Depending on a wall to keep him up, out of breath from simply moving there, looking at Jungwon like he doesn’t know him- it’s all so far removed from Jay. Jungwon can’t think about the cruelties Jay endured that drove him to where he is now; it would destroy him and he can’t afford that. Not until Jay is safe and back where he belongs. 

The noise from outside the room filters back into Jungwon’s consciousness. Okay. Okay, now get help. Someone Jay and I both trust. 

Bowing into Jay’s space, mindful of the speed with which he does so, Jungwon cups the older’s cheek with his clean(er) hand and promises, “I’ll be right back, okay? Right back.”

Then he’s lunging to the room’s entrance, pushing the door fully ajar with his hip and scouring the dozen or so raiders now in the hall for a familiar face. For a moment, Jungwon thinks of having to leave this room behind in search of one of their friends, but standing here, blocking the doorway with his body, he recognizes that is not an option. His worries dissipate when Heeseung storms around the corner. 

Jungwon shouts at him over the noise, waiting only until the older’s eyes find his before ducking back into the room to Jay’s side. 

Jay’s gaze lifts to his face when he realizes someone’s in front of him, but nothing changes in his vacant eyes. Not even a flicker. Jungwon stays where he is, regardless of the disorienting torment of not being known. He stays where he is and he holds one of Jay’s hands in his because Jay lets him, and he does not think about how many bruises on the older’s body there are that he can’t see, or how he’s drowning in the gray pants and crewneck hanging loosely off his frame. 

And Jungwon is still there- right there with Jay even though Jay’s not really with him in return- when Heeseung arrives. Heeseung, who has always excelled at composing which emotions he allows to surface no matter what he’s actually feeling. Heeseung, who throws himself down next to Jungwon and reaches out for Jay like he wants to touch him but can’t quite get himself to do it and begins to cry. 

Jungwon grants him a moment, knowing intimately what a shock it is to see Jay here before them. To see him like this. Jungwon hasn’t processed it either; he probably won’t until Jay is safely back in the compound walls. And maybe not until days after that. But Jungwon knows how to move despite everything- he’s done it time and time again before and he’ll do it now- and he knows it’s their only chance at success here. 

“Is-” Heeseung begins, then grates his teeth together. “Is he-”

But he doesn’t finish the thought. No, of course, is the answer anyway. Jay’s not okay. And Jungwon doesn’t know how not okay he is. He doesn’t know anything. He just doesn’t know. 

“I don’t know,” Jungwon replies, voice raw from trying not to succumb to the cries clawing at his throat. Heeseung’s eyes are sealed on Jay, who’s not really looking at either of them. With a choppy inhale, Heeseung reaches for Jay’s other hand, holding it between both of his in a manner that suggests he’s just as fearful of harming Jay further as Jungwon is. 

“We should- we should try to check, though. Right?” Heeseung says, hesitant and lost and transparently petrified. And Jungwon’s heart is already broken, but hearing that specific tone from his unshakeable friend dashes those pieces into smaller shreds. Jungwon wonders how much longer it will take for his heart to grind to dust.

Helplessness comes swinging back at him with the force of all his fears that are eager to come to light, but Jungwon dodges its left hook and shoves it away. Fears and uncertainties be damned, he’s getting Jay back to the compound. 

“Yeah. Before we move him, yeah,” Jungwon answers. There must have been some semblance of restraint in his voice because Heeseung flings himself into action when Jungwon does. Together, they grace touches gingerly along Jay’s arms, shoulders, legs. Jungwon prods at his head to check for open injuries and does not think about how much Jay’s hair has thinned either. Heeseung feels at his ribs, and though Jay lets out another tiny groan of discomfort, Heeseung reports that he doesn’t think any of them are broken. 

With those feeble encouragements cataloged away, Jungwon tries to reason with himself. Though Jay is infinitely weak from obvious malnutrition and dehydration, he doesn’t seem to be sporting any physical ailments outside of the plethora of bruising. There’s no blood anywhere that they can see, no rusty color dried on any of his clothes. Jungwon knows it would be wise to raise Jay’s long-sleeved top just to be sure, but he can’t imagine doing so. Not now, in this setting. He’s sure that if he were to see bony ribs or the injuries that are causing the older so much pain with the most miniscule of movements he wouldn’t be able to go on. 

He’s reminded of the flush of remorseless rage that overtook him before he even knew Jay was here, the way it struck his body onward when he was in an irretrievable condition, relying on mental motivation alone. That possessing anger catches fire in his veins once again, more concrete this time. Jungwon lets it drive him, lets it get under his skin and make everything he looks at tint the same blue-black as the hurt marring Jay’s features. 

Jungwon can feel his face going steely, can feel his reeling head screeching to a halt. Not because he’s not terrified, but because he doesn’t have time to be. And he lets that happen too. Heeseung, dried tear tracks left forgotten on his face, appears to be assembling himself into a like state. When he turns his head to look Jungwon straight on, his gaze is heated with wrath, melding into nothing but a fixed glare. They’re as ready as they can be. 

“I can carry him if you lead,” Heeseung says. The desire to object is immediate. Jungwon wants to be close to Jay. Wants to hold him in his own arms, wants to be the one to put in the work to make sure he gets back safe. But he knows it’s in Jay’s best interest if Heeseung is the one who handles this. Never mind how much Jungwon could push himself to make it happen, Heeseung is a few inches taller, has more muscle build, and has a substantial greater amount of energy as an advantage. 

So he nods at Heeseung’s suggestion and they start working on getting Jay into both of their extra coats. Navigating Jay’s arms into the sleeves takes longer than Jungwon would like but he’s wholly averse to jostling Jay around just to make it happen faster. He’s just fitting his beanie over Jay’s matted hair when Heeseung seizes his elbow and snatches it closer to himself. Jungwon whips toward him, alarmed, but shakes him off once he realizes Heeseung’s only scrutinizing the blood oozing from the wound on his forearm with horror spelled out all over his face. 

“Jungwon, that’s-”

“It’s fine,” he mutters, pulling away from him entirely. 

Heeseung is unappeased, his head bobbing to the side. “It looks- it’s bad.”

Jungwon swipes up the gloves Heeseung abandoned to the floor when he noticed Jungwon’s injury, anxious to get them arranged over Jay’s fingers. He ignores Heeseung’s multiple attempts at gaining another handle on his arm and barely refrains from snapping at him once he’s finished his task with the gloves. 

“Heeseung. I’ll deal with it later. It’s the furthest fucking thing from important right now.”

Something shutters in Heeseung’s expression. Something about worry and protectiveness and downright concern for Jungwon’s well-being. Jungwon adds this to the ever growing stack of apologies he needs to hand out to his various loved ones after this is all over. 

Heeseung drops it. But not before cutting a section of fabric from his undershirt with a knife and wrapping it snugly around the gash, staunching the blood flow as much as possible. He squeezes Jungwon’s shoulder then shuffles over so he’s hunched in front of Jay, ready to receive his weight on his back. 

Jungwon takes Jay in for a stolen moment he doesn’t have, hands skating over Jay’s knees. The older’s cloudy eyes are now directed at the floor. Deeply disturbed by his absolute silence and stillness- shaking with it- Jungwon forces his own gaze away. Forces himself to talk through how they’re going to get him up, forces himself to keep firm hands on Jay’s body as they maneuver him to be draped over Heeseung’s back so he doesn’t slip off and hit the floor. 

Jay’s body settles and Heeseung rises, hands hooked in the hollows of the former’s knees. Jungwon steps in front of Heeseung so he can see Jay’s eyes, but, of course, the older doesn’t look at him. His eyelids are drooping like an unseen power is actively tugging them down. Jungwon brushes his thumb under the beanie along Jay’s hairline, emotion a lump in his throat. 

One more touch. One more whispered assurance. One more glance. It will never be enough, not until Jay’s safe, but what else is there for Jungwon to cling to?

“We’re gonna get you home,” Jungwon swears, only half-stuttering on the last word. His incentive for the upcoming hours. His purpose for the journey home. A word attributed to this man and to his safety. A word Jungwon hasn’t seen in front of him in so, so long. 

Heeseung shifts to readjust Jay’s weight and Jay’s eyes sew shut completely and Jungwon tunes in to the crackle of orders and conversation outside the room once more. 

It’s physically painful for Jungwon to drop his hand from Jay’s forehead and step away from his slumped form, but he’s used to pain. Heeseung shoots him a rigid nod. And Jungwon turns on his heel and leaves the room. 

Adrenaline sets his body alight, white-hot, grounding him to the feel of each of his daggers and the gun back in his hand. Of every micro movement around them. Of every noise. Of the fact that he cannot allow Heeseung to be in danger because if Heeseung’s in danger, Jay’s in danger. 

Weaving their way up to the main level isn’t going to take more than two minutes. As it is, it feels like years of treading through sludge-thick, muddy water. Jungwon’s brain keeps tricking him, converting harmless light into threats at each turn and scuffs of shoes into oncoming attackers. Despite the spurts of panic, they are met with no issues. Jungwon remains as headstrong as he can. 

That one-track mind gets them through the halls. Heeseung is behind him and Jungwon’s trying his best not to hover right in front of him. He knows that Heeseung is capable of protecting himself. But with Jay in tow- or rather, with Jay requiring most of Heeseung’s attention and both of his arms- Jungwon is not willing to take any chances. 

Reaching the top of the stairs is one step closer to far-off freedom. Jungwon’s abdomen involuntarily heaves with something- a sigh or wail of relief. The last time he was at the top of these stairs, he didn’t know Jay was here. The last time he was rushing across this floor he was hanging on to a scrap of hysterical faith and nothing else. 

A wall of icy chill collides with him from the open entrance door. The dim entryway is empty. There’s just- bodies. Everywhere. Most enveloped head to toe in suits that mark them as soldiers, but several wearing attire much like Jungwon’s own. Jungwon takes great care in not lingering on those figures too long, lest sorrow’s grip take hold of him now. He must wait to mourn them, as always. 

He takes a cautious step, glass shards from the shattered front casing of the technology equipment to his right crunching beneath his boot. Up ahead, outside the doors and past the fallen front gate, the expanse of the blinding white valley stretches even further into the endless, raging blizzard. Jungwon dreads the bite of that snow hitting him in the face and the merciless wind rippling through his clothes. The prospect of going through all of it again with so little a break from it in-between- and this time with Jay in company- seems unfeasible. 

Yet Jungwon takes another step. And another. Then another, keeping his gun close to his chest as he surveys the wide area. He can hear Heeseung’s careful footsteps behind him, can sense his double presence just over his shoulder. It’s just as comforting as it is pressuring; Jungwon has shouldered many responsibilities in this life, but safeguarding Jay and Heeseung is now and forever going to be the most crucial and disconcerting. One wrong step and Heeseung could do the exact same. One hour (minute, second) too long and Jay could leave him forever. One little thing passing him by and he could doom all three of them-

A soldier announces themself from the side hallway in a flurry of dark suit material. They appear to be weaponless and Jungwon wonders in the split second it takes to pull the trigger why they’d still attempt to overtake him when the base has been overrun and no one is left to fight by their side. The bullet burying into the column of their neck has them striking into him in the dregs of a slouching, forsaken sprint. Jungwon withstands their weight just so he can get a hand on one of his daggers and snick it across their jugular for good measure. 

Their mass slips from his hold and he lets them fall, stepping away as they crash to the floor. He doesn’t look down, just around, then back at Heeseung for a singular moment, whose face is nearly enough to make Jungwon pause. Nearly. After another swivel of his head, he moves forward without a word. He doesn’t pay any mind to the void guise of Heeseung’s face or the thin set of his mouth or his knowing eyes. Jungwon doesn’t pay any mind to how out of breath he is or how his heart is banging against his chest. 

He just moves. Another step. Another. Until they’ve reached the exit. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs. He wants to set the building ablaze and watch it burn to ashes. He wants revenge. 

He just moves. Switches spots to follow Heeseung, making himself a physical barrier to defend the older boys from any danger skulking in the facility behind them. They confront the tempest headlong, and it’s sickening how cold it is. How daunting it is to grapple with the fact that this is literally the very beginning of the journey. 

Through the yard, past the gate, across the valley. Toward the foot of the hill, chasing the groups of their own people who are mere blotches of color in the distance. Jungwon pushes the pace. His eyes blur with the prick of dry air and his body positively aches and his ears ring with sizzling white static and he pushes them through the powdery snow, pushes their steps just a beat faster, pushes their luck until they can reach some sort of cover in the trees that await them at the top of the hill. 

Jungwon’s eyes glide meticulously, constantly, over their surroundings. To their sides. Behind them. Over and over again. The hazardous wetness adhering to the edges of his vision is an added degree of difficulty, but the trek to the great hill passes all the same. 

Tackling the climb up is hell. Heaving with exertion, Heeseung coughs on billows of snow flying into his mouth and nose. Jay is still. Still still still. Jungwon can’t help but keep one hand on Heeseung’s side, stabling him from behind, and another on the layers heaped on top of Jay’s back. He is so very still.

The slick incline suddenly has Heeseung starting forward but he catches himself clumsily before tumbling down. Jay, however, slips precariously from the whole plane of Heeseung’s back to just one side. Jungwon’s hands dart out to steady him, fingers grasping onto his jacket and hip in tandem. 

“Go, go,” Jungwon urges Heeseung the very instant Jay’s secured back where he needs to be. Heeseung gives Jay the least jarring boost he can manage and takes a step in the same breath, just about losing his footing a second time thanks to Jungwon’s unbound persistence. 

Jungwon wants to be sensitive, knows he needs to be, but it would take just one soldier evading his searching eyes. One shot. One bullet. Being out in the open like this, entirely vulnerable, is an enormous risk. So Jungwon is unrelenting, chanting to himself that they just need to get to the top, to the trees. They won’t be safe, it won’t be over, but they just need-

With the end finally in sight, the tremble wreaking havoc on Jungwon’s body multiplies. When they’re close enough to the top Jungwon jumps out of his skin to get ahead of Heeseung and help him up over the edge. 

The two of them move as one; as soon as the older’s feet are on level ground, they’re both charging on once more. Jungwon has his arm wrapped about Jay’s back and his eyes still performing that never-ending sweep of the landscape. 

They race past a lonely first tree, and then a second, and a third, and then the full-fledged forest is upon them again. Even with the stripped winter branches, the wooded atmosphere is a blanket of temporary solace pressing down on Jungwon’s shoulders all the same. Shudders of overwhelming anxiety are irrepressible now, here, back where he feels he may just have the upper hand, and having escaped the unimaginable- so far. 

They have so much longer to go. So much farther. Jay is so still. It’s unbelievably cold. The world and the trees and the snow spin for a horrid moment, but Jungwon is able to note the people marching on ahead of them and a couple more just getting over the hill several yards behind them. 

Heeseung must discern the small window they have as well. He sidesteps to make himself the focal point of Jungwon’s eyes ticking from thing to thing to thing, feet sturdy and hands tight on Jay’s wilting body and eyes fully focused on the coiled ball of loose strings Jungwon is made up of. 

“Hey,” Heeseung says, not unkindly. There isn’t even a hint of anger induced aggression present in his voice, just a forcefulness that demands Jungwon’s attention. “I’ve got him.” 

Jungwon rips his eyes away from the purples and yellows framing Jay’s face, away from his bony cheek pressed to Heeseung’s back, away from his unnerving stillness. He looks to the flecks of white tearing around the hell-bent set of Heeseung’s face instead, knowing he must rely on his older friend more now than he ever has. 

“I swear, I’ve got him.” A vow. “Now you lead the way.” An order.

And Jungwon does as he says. Because he trusts him. Heeseung, in turn, is trusting him to steer them home. Home. For Jay. 

Fiercely brave, intricately gentle, too warm for the barbed snare of this world, Jay. Jay, who deserves every good and guarded and delicate thing. Jungwon will do anything to provide him that again. Fucking anything. He’ll get him home, blood on his hands, fire in his heart. 

»

The first hour is frosty and wet and quiet, save the shriek of the wind when it picks up in fits of fury. Raiders are around them, not close by any means, but still the same groups that were flanking them in front and behind as before. Their vague existence is as much of a salve to Jungwon’s perpetual apprehension as it can be. He trudges through the snow in front of Heeseung, plowing a path for the older with his body. Water soaked through Jungwon’s layers of pants- from ankles to knees and even up to his waist due to some of the deeper snowbanks- long ago, leaving his legs numb and wobbly. 

It’s the least of his worries. His mind skips, from purples and yellows and stillness and Jay- Jay with them, Jay here, Jay under his protection, so close to home, so close to safety- to Sunoo, Niki, Jake, Sunghoon, Taeyong, Mark. 

In hindsight, it was unnecessary for Sunoo to make the journey with them; maybe even foolish. He’ll need his strength to work on mending and aiding those who are brought back from the facility- to help Jay- and tramping around in the snow for hours on end beforehand isn’t exactly the most ideal course of action. Jungwon won’t hold it against him, knowing he would’ve done the same if his job were to wait around for them all to come back. Jungwon hopes Sunoo’s far ahead of them, as warm as he can be. 

He hopes Niki is watching his back, very likely shouldering the weight of someone in dire need of help. He thinks of Sunghoon, looking gaunt and sickly earlier and hopes he’s with a group and not braving these elements alone. He thinks of Jake and his sharp eyes and kind heart and flayed face and hopes he’s not in so much pain it hinders his steps. He thinks of Mark and Taeyong and their upstanding, patient leadership, and of Sujin waiting back at the compound for them- the two men who have virtually become her fathers, who love her with everything they are- and hopes they’re looking after themselves so they can get back to her. To all of them.

Jungwon thinks of them all, but is hyper aware of Heeseung’s footfalls just behind him, and who he carries on his back. Of Heeseung’s gruff exhales of effort and Jay’s closed eyes. Jungwon walks and turns to scan in front of them, on their sides, behind them. Walks and turns. Walks and turns and shepherds Heeseung’s ice-caked shoes over decayed tree stumps and bumpy terrain. The first hour of nine. Probably ten, with how much the weather has worsened. 

It’s impossible. It feels fucking impossible, and Jay’s eyes do not open and he is so, so very still. 

»

When they approach the waterfall the sky has gone an ominous dark gray, clouds packed with more snow. The sun hasn’t made an appearance once today and Jungwon is glad for it, even if the tentative, thawing warmth would feel wonderful. Darkness means cover, and cover is everything. 

They slog through the slush at the basin of the waterfall. This is hour three, give or take. Jungwon’s exhausted. He’s accepted it now instead of brushing it away and reciting to himself that he can go on with sheer willpower alone. Counting on his own physical strength isn’t enough anymore. There aren’t any reserves left. He’s scraping together the jagged shell of a person the piercing wind and creeping wetness has turned him into, left to fight a losing mental battle now that he’s acknowledged he could drop at any second.

The only motivator he can hold on to as they move beyond the waterfall is the fact that Jay needs him. Jay needs him. Needs him to keep walking, keep guiding Heeseung, keep his head on until they’re back at the compound, warm and safe and encompassed by walls on every side. 

They arrive at the precipice of the hill slanting down, down, down for ages, pausing so Heeseung can recenter Jay’s weight. When Jungwon turns away from the intimidating downward slope to meet Heeseung’s eyes, his older friend seems similarly wary of how getting down the hill is going to go when he has to hold Jay up with both hands. He won’t be able to hang on to Jungwon in case a foothold slips, in case… Jungwon envisions Heeseung sliding out of his reach, Jay suffering the brunt of the hill to his back, or falling away from Heeseung and slowing to a stop facedown in the snow. 

Shoving away the horrified sick threatening to wretch out of him, Jungwon looks ahead, realizing the group in front of them- his inadvertent pacesetter- are now out of sight. The disquieted response this invokes in him compels him to tell Heeseung what they’re going to do with more conviction than he’s truly feeling. 

“We’ll go slow. I’ll be right beside you so I can hang on to you both and clear the snow away at the same time. If you start to slip, just… just bend your knees and I’ll stop you, okay?”

It’s a shit plan. Heeseung nods anyway, sniffing harshly. His nose is running. He echos, “Slow.”

Heeseung’s steps are vigilant and calculated. Jungwon has a death grip on his arm and his other hand looped around Jay’s back. He stoops down every time they take another successful step forward, drained muscles screaming, so he can sweep the snow out of Heeseung’s way with his tattered boot. There’s a subtle path left behind from the raiders before them, but the snow’s falling so heavily that their prior work is practically already covered. Sweep, step. Sweep, step. 

They do this until about the halfway point, where Heeseung stops, gasping out a breathless plea to wait a second, his arms and legs visibly straining to keep his body locked up.

“Okay,” he says after about a minute. Again, more vigorously, “Okay. ‘M good. Let’s go.”

Sweep, step. Sweep, step. Sweep-

Heeseung starts to slide. Jungwon plants his left foot resolutely and propels his body in front of Heeseung’s chest to force his momentum to a stop. A grunt is knocked out of Jungwon as he takes on both Heeseung and Jay’s combined weight, but it’s enough. Heeseung is no longer slipping. They freeze for a suspended moment, shaking against each other as white whirls around them. 

“Holy shit,” Heeseung rasps. “Shit- Won, you okay?”

Jungwon’s bum knee twinged in the process of stalling the fall and the refreshed pain brings acute tears to his eyes. He clamps down on the inside of his cheek hard enough for the hurt to relocate itself, waving Heeseung’s vehement follow up off. 

They get going again, both of them panting, both of them falling apart. Sweep, step. Sweep, step. Sweep, step. Until the blessed bottom of the hill. 

Jungwon’s eyes seek out Jay’s at once, but they’re still closed. He’s still pale and purple and yellow and absolutely unmoving, but he’s not facedown in the snow and he’s still breathing and Heeseung carried him down the steepest hill of this journey against all odds. Patting Heeseung’s sternum in a gesture of gratitude, Jungwon shakes out his throbbing knee and works himself through deep breaths that still don’t get in as much oxygen as he feels he needs. 

“Alright?” Heeseung asks. Jungwon reaches behind him to reposition the beanie over Jay’s ear, realizing belatedly that Heeseung was observing his knee and he’s caught on to at least some amount of the pain Jungwon’s in. 

Jungwon nods anyway and Heeseung doesn’t say anything else, an unspoken understanding settling between them. There is indeed relief from all of this suffering, but it still lies six hours away, and idling here won’t solve anything. 

»

Some hidden root or hardened clump of ice is to blame for the way Heeseung trips in the fourth hour. Jungwon can’t stop it this time as Heeseung pitches into the skinny tree trunk in front of him. His older friend hardly makes a sound and it’s over in a flash, but they lock eyes in the aftermath, both registering how badly that could’ve ended up. 

Jay’s face narrowly missed smashing into the tree by the way Heeseung happened to fall into it. Jungwon steps closer, hands hovering, and Heeseung’s already assenting to taking a break, puffs of air vaporizing in front of him like little bursts of smoke.  

“I need- just a second. My back’s cramping up.”

Spotting a log with one end poking up out of a mound of snow nearby, Jungwon clears it off with his shoe as much as he cares to, then stands in front of it as Heeseung transfers Jay from his back to Jungwon’s arms. Taking Jay’s weight away- as light as that weight actually is- is palpably alleviating for Heeseung. The opportunity to stretch his muscles this way and that takes him a few steps away. Jungwon’s attention doesn’t stick with him. 

He sits, one arm tucked under Jay’s bent legs, the other twined around his shoulders and he’s- water wells up in Jungwon’s eyes, searing, demanding to be felt. Jay is so fucking small. Too small. Too slight. He’s lost so much weight, it’s like his- like his fucking bone structure decreased in size too. 

Sitting in the forest, miles from safety, surrounded by wet and cold and the unknown, Jungwon hunkers down and admits to himself that Jay could die. He could die out here just as much as he could’ve in that damn facility. Maybe they’ve- maybe those chances have increased since he’s out here, already weak and depleted and hurt, and now thrust into the colossal power of the worst winter storm Jungwon has ever seen. 

Jungwon gathers Jay closer, closer, allowing himself more contact now than he did when he found him in that wretched cell. He presses his lips to the waxen skin of Jay’s temple, murmurs, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to you.” The tears slip over his lash line and he can’t make them stop. Can’t stop the guilt and the pain and the fear. “Hang on. Please, hang on for me. A little longer. I love you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Then Heeseung is in front of him again. His break can’t have been more than a minute long but they can’t afford to waste more time. Jungwon can’t let Jay go. Can’t hand him over. Can’t relinquish control, as little of it as he has in this moment. With Jay with him, against him, breathing. 

“He’s so small,” Jungwon whimpers up at Heeseung, imploring, as if he’s asking Heeseung if he has the answers as to why this happened, the answers to fixing this in an instant instead of a long, long while. The only answer Heeseung actually gives him is a mirroring glisten in his eyes. 

Panic bubbles up in Jungwon’s chest, begs to split out of him. He leans over Jay’s prone (still still still ) body in a futile attempt to shield him from the wind. Stumbles through asking if Heeseung needs him to carry Jay instead, but Heeseung just looks at him with a means that makes the tears come harder and shakes his head. 

“Come on, Won,” he says quietly, sadly. Gravely. He knows how fucked up this situation is. He must understand how Jungwon’s heart and mind are prying him in opposite directions. Stay. Slow down. Hold him close. Don’t let him go. Ever. You might not have much time left with him anyways. And Move. Hurry. Get up. Get over yourself. Heeseung can handle him. You can save him if you’re fast enough. 

Jungwon sobs as he gives Jay back over, only stomping down on the dreadful sound when Jay’s cheek is resting on Heeseung’s shoulder blade. When he can’t deny the clock clicking away in his subconscious. When he has to let go of Jay once more. 

»

Jungwon teeth begin to chatter. They don’t stop. 

The tendons in his neck tense and untense, again and again. His shoulders cave in over his body. Every time he fixes his posture the endeavor unravels within seconds. His hands shake. His legs quiver. His feet- they’re gone. He can’t feel them. They’re wet, but he can’t remember from what, exactly. If he stepped in a puddle or a particularly misleading pile of snow, or if it’s just from walking in this weather in general. 

When he pulls the layers of several sleeves back to get a glimpse of his watch- it’s been nearly six hours; hopefully just three to go- his eyesight goes sideways, then fuzzy. He quits walking. Sways to a stop. He’s going to be sick. What would even come up? He’s never been on a boat, just read about it in a book he found in the compound, but imagines this is what it’d feel like being out on the water. Untethered. Unstable. A bit outside of oneself, at the mercy of another, greater force.

“Jungwon.” Heeseung. Behind him. Jungwon doesn’t turn because he’s fairly certain that would just magnify the dizziness. He’s pretty sure he hums in question. 

“You okay?” Heeseung. Again. Jungwon’s pretty sure he nods. 

Actually, he’s not very sure of anything at all. 

»

Jungwon’s husk of a body forces him to stop- to gulp down air there’s not enough of, to shake, to rip apart from the inside out- two more times before Heeseung speaks up again. 

“Jungwon.” 

Just his name, but Jungwon’s preoccupied with flexing his stiff hands in his gloves and figures he’ll answer him when a viable thought comes to mind. As for right now, he’s just noticed his fingers are gone, like his feet. He’s tired. A gust of wind hits him from the left like a solid wall, making his stationary form list over. He catches himself with his hands on his knees and spends another handful of seconds blinking away the black spots that have materialized in the snow under his boots.

Moments passing. Seconds. He can’t be doing this- not moving. He needs to be moving. Jay needs him. Jay-

Jungwon lugs himself upright as fast as he can, wild eyes searching past the ice clinging to his lashes for Heeseung. Because Heeseung has Jay. Heeseung ends up being directly next to Jungwon, his face crumpled with worry. 

“Jungwon, hey. Just breathe. Breathe for a second.” 

Jay needs him. Wasting time. Holy fuck, he’s tired. 

The words he can feel eating away at his insides bypass his lips as he cants his head back, eyes closing against specks of cold. It looked like they were coming at him faster from this viewpoint, staring up at them. Their sky. Their home. Fast enough to cover him whole and leave him here forever. To rest. No. That’s not right. No rest yet. Jay needs him first. 

“What, Won? What did you say?” Heeseung. Asking what he’d muttered to the sky. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon repeats in a whisper. They need to go. He takes a step forward, one leg crossing over the other to get moving again. Another step, then Heeseung’s got a hand on his elbow. The touch returns to support Jay as soon as Jungwon heeds his silent command to stop. 

“Don’t apologize,” Heeseung chides, but his voice is calm. A little sad, like before. “You’re exhausted.”

A clipped cry wheezes out of Jungwon at the admission. The validation. He’s losing it and they still have so much longer- 

“We’re more than halfway,” Heeseung says. Jay could die out here. It’s so cold. Jungwon’s so tired. “We can push through. We’ll do it together. For Jay.” 

For Jay. Yes. Fuck, of course, for Jay. Jungwon’s chin dips in a nod. Heeseung looks weary, weary and old and young and anxious and vicious. Jungwon keeps nodding. Heeseung pivots in place, adjusting Jay as his gaze drops to the ground for some reason. Jungwon’s eyes trail over the curve of Jay’s back, watching for the slow rise and fall of his breaths. He does detect them, but finds it’s not as much of a comfort as he figured it’d be.

“There,” Heeseung says, a tinge triumphantly. He motions at something in his line of vision with his head and it takes Jungwon several sluggish moments to move on from the leaden gray of Jay’s features, let alone to divert his focus to the fucking snow underfoot. “That big stick right there, Won. Pick it up.”

Jungwon hobbles over to it without question, his shit knee disagreeing fervently with the rocky movement. There’s no room for confusion. He trusts Heeseung will tell him why he’s digging a soggy piece of wood out of the snow soon enough. 

“Good job,” Heeseung tells him once he’s unearthed it from its white grave. The older boy’s arms are shaking from keeping Jay up, but he still holds Jungwon’s eye contact as if he hasn’t a worry in the world. “Is it strong?”

Jungwon conducts an abysmal test of wiggling it about to ensure it doesn’t splinter apart. It’s almost as tall as him and when he wraps one not-hand around it his fingers scarcely touch. It’s reliable. Heeseung is evidently pleased. 

“Good. Lean on that, Won. All your weight, if you need to. It’ll keep you up. We’re gonna get home, alright?”

Yes. Of course. For Jay.

»

There’s a voice. Hollering. It reverberates in the somber, creaky forest, far, far away.  

Jungwon can’t hear it, not distinctly. Not enough to place who it is or what they’re saying. His first impulse is to be on alert, to prepare for the worst, to shove Heeseung and Jay away and return whichever fucker dares to come after them to the dirt they came from. But Heeseung comes to a dead stop and hurtles around, Jay and all, peering back the way they came and he doesn’t seem at all afraid so Jungwon isn’t afraid either because Jungwon trusts him. 

On account of his reinstated status of dwelling on the boat, Jungwon doesn’t turn to investigate the identity of the newcomer himself, just leans heavily on his walking stick, scratching his bare cheek against it to remind himself that he’s real and he’s here even though he can’t feel anything anymore. 

More voices. Not as loud now. Closer. Garbled. Underwater. Heeseung’s responding to whomever it is and Jungwon’s previous worry of what will happen if he collapses is rapidly evolving into what will happen when he collapses.

Someone’s touching him. He startles, flailing, eyes flying open- he doesn’t recall shutting them in the first place- but the tension bolts from his body when he recognizes Jake. Jake with his mouth parted, eyebrows stitched together, and one arm tight behind Jungwon’s back while the other holds fast to his tricep. Jungwon gapes at him, half-lidded, trying to figure out where he came from. He doesn’t come to a conclusion and promptly lets the thought go altogether.

Heeseung and Jake are trading words back and forth. Fragments like lost too much blood and exhausted and dehydrated. Jungwon’s traitorous fucking mind checks out for a blip of time, convinced he’s safe enough in Jake’s care to chase a sliver of rest. His cognizance clunks back into place only when he’s been sat somewhere freezing and firm and is being coaxed to drink from the water bottle Jake’s holding to his lips. 

“Jay,” he says hoarsely, in case Jake doesn’t know. That they have him. That he’s here. With them. But Jake must know, because he nods his head and taps his fingers under Jungwon’s chin, a mute indication he wants him to drink. Jungwon swallows a mouthful; it hurts going down. Floods his insides the same temperature as the vile fucking weather. He’s still shaking. At least he thinks he is. He can’t really… 

“I know, Wonie,” Jake answers, voice so gentle the rush of the wind nearly snuffs it out. Jungwon doesn’t understand how his reaction to Jay- Jay- can be so small. So contained. Then he sees the melted snowflakes leaking out of Jake’s eyes and revises that assumption in his head, packing it away for later. 

“Drink this, okay?” Jake cues, manually curling one of Jungwon’s hands around the bottle so he doesn’t have to hold it for him. “All of it.”

Jungwon shakes his head mindlessly, remembering the itch in his throat as it’d gone down the first time. He looks past Jake crouching in front of him to Heeseung. Heeseung and his dark clothes and darker hair covered in frost, body angled in an awkward stretch. Jay- so small, so still- is a grown man and Heeseung has to be in agony from carrying him all this way. They need to go. Now. 

“We need to go,” Jungwon gets out. He would stand up on his own but his legs aren’t working. His not-feet are glued to the ground with an impenetrable layer of ice. Jake looks up from where he’d been rummaging through his bag. 

“We do,” he agrees amiably. Something’s wrong with his voice. It’s taut like it rarely is. He has cloth in his hand, and as he rolls back the sleeves of Jungwon’s right arm he jerks his head at the mostly full bottle. “But you have to finish that first. You’re sick and it’ll make you feel better. Give you strength.”

Jungwon wants to tell him that he’s not sick. Not sick sick. Just. His hands and feet are gone. And he can’t get off the blasted boat. And his brain is firing signals that he body won’t comply with anymore. 

Jake rewraps the makeshift bandage Heeseung tied shoddily around the laceration on his forearm forever, ever, ever ago and fastens it soundly. Jungwon can’t feel a thing. He gets the water down. For Jay. 

Jake tells him good job. Jake tells him lots of things right in a row, gentle, gentle, gentle. Jake pulls him to his feet, one arm snaking around his waist, holding him up. Jake tells him he’s okay. Jake tells him to put one foot in front of the other. Jake tells him not to think about anything else. Jake tells him to let go of the walking stick. 

“Don’t need it?” Jungwon mumbles, even as he discards it anyway, as Jake hikes him up and over a ridge of fine, sandy snow. Sandy like the gritty band around an ocean or a lake. Jungwon’s seen both of those bodies of water in his life. But he’s never been on a boat. Not until today.

“Don’t need it,” Jake confirms. “You’ve got me.”

»

More words, sailing over him. Ten miles and two hours. 

Someone’s touching him. Jake. It’s Jake. Jungwon turns his face toward his friend, attention snagging on the appalling scrape running from the swoop of his jaw and crawling up, up to his cheekbone. It takes far longer than it probably should, but the memory of a distant life emerges. Of Jake falling. Of the upturned log. Of his face dragging against it. Of Jungwon’s utter defeat. Can’t protect him. Can’t protect them. 

He pulls the hand bracketed over Jake’s shoulder back so he can stroke the plaster someone placed on the abrasion. Sunoo, he thinks. In that distant life. And Jungwon feels unfathomably sorry. He says nothing. Jake glances at him, reorients their hold on one other. 

Jungwon says nothing. He just puts one foot in front of the other. 

»

Jake yanks Jungwon back up into his side when Jungwon’s steps falter.

“Hang on,” he pleads, airy with fatigue. “Just a little longer, Wonie. ‘Bout two miles. That’s it. Two miles.”

One foot plodding down after another. Steps and steps and white and nothing and… two miles. Two miles… The landmark stands out in the oblivion, taking shape, forming itself into something Jungwon translates as important. Memorable.

He raises his head from where it’d lulled to watch the excruciating lag of the ground going by, listening to that meager siren of something and little else. 

Steps and steps. White. More white. And little else. 

Until he sees it and the significance of where they are jars him to the core with the force of sudden clarity. He sees it and crumbles. Like something switched off or cut the cords holding him up, he goes down to his hands and knees in the snow. There’s an eruption of panicked noise above him, hauling him out of the wet, but all of Jungwon’s energy is feeding into the cracked cries surging out of him at the sight of the tree up ahead. 

The tree. Where Jay was captured all those months ago. Where the knife was the only trace of him left behind. Where Jay’s suffering started. Where Jungwon’s world stopped turning. 

The tree represents desolation of time past. It’s also freedom, so close, almost theirs. It’s the answer, just within reach. They’re almost home, almost, and Jungwon has nothing left to give. Jake draws him close, cradling his head with one of his arms, the other still anchoring Jungwon’s body that’s insisting it become one with the earth. 

“Jungwon,” he says. Jungwon knows heartbreak and that’s what that was, in his voice. “We’re okay. It’s okay. We’re almost there.”

The breath catching in Jungwon’s chest makes way for nonsensical inquires of Jay, Jay, where’s Jay- because as much as that fucking tree means home is near, this is exactly how far away Jay was when he was taken. Deliverance being so close loses its magnitude when it could be torn away again. When that possibility is still looming, still real. 

But Jake tells him it’s not real. Jay isn’t gone. And Jungwon trusts Jake. 

“He’s right here,” Jake assures him. “Right here. Heeseung’s got him; he’s had him all along. We’re so close, Wonie. C’mon, a little further. I know, honey, I know- work with me-”

»

Time slips. 

Voices, again. Jungwon’s eyes are closed, again. Without his permission, again. He peels them open, taking in a face swimming into focus, slowly. Niki. Niki. 

Hands on Jungwon’s shoulders, squeezing. Shaking him, just a little. More sound, but Jungwon doesn’t know if they’re talking to him. If they’re talking at all. Jake’s arms are gone and Jungwon’s floating. Not quite, though. Almost. There’s something against his cheek. He tries to breathe, tries to keep his eyes awake. 

When he comes to next, he can’t move so he doesn’t. Niki’s above him. Carrying him, the gait of his walk gentle, gentle. 

“Nik,” he croaks. The younger boy’s eyes- honed, razor-sharp, stressed- find his. “Where’s- where is he? ‘S he-?”

Niki rotates a bit, showing Heeseung- and Jay- only a stride behind them. Jake’s right there too. It’s enough. It’s enough, seeing them drenched in warm light. 

Warm light. 

Jungwon gazes up, past Niki’s head, and the sky’s there. Not warm at all, but dark. Then the sky turns from night-blackened clouds to metal and cement and Niki’s descending steps and- Jungwon makes a noise outside of himself because they’re back. 

It blurs. The ceiling, so close to him after hours and hours under the canopy of the unreachable sky. The change in temperature. The lights, the noise. There’s so much noise. Niki comes to a stop and Jungwon teeters away from his chest onto his own not-feet, taking in the medwing as it wavers through the lens of his kaleidoscope vision. 

Jay’s lying on top of one of the beds, Heeseung having just set him down. Noise, noise, noise- then Sunoo. Next to Jay, hands sure and smart, instructions clear and concise. Eyes flicking from Jay to Jungwon, just once. Back to Jay. He works purposefully, efficiently, immovably concentrated. Jungwon hands his heart right over into his dear friend’s care. Sunoo will tend to it well.

Jungwon stares at the purples and yellows and paleness and stillness as Sunoo talks to whoever’s above Jungwon’s head. Losing himself to his instincts- to permitting himself to touch him when he shouldn’t touch, shouldn’t dare, shouldn’t ruin this- Jungwon clasps Jay’s palm in his own. His frail, frail hand. Bony fingers. Frigid skin. They got him home. He’s hurting and breathing and whole and home. 

The noise cuts out. All the stimulants swamping Jungwon lurch to a stop. He’s slipping just like time did, and someone’s holding him up from behind and he lets it all happen. He does retain the sense to stammer his protest when he’s led away from Jay, but Jake’s voice sidles through the curtain of nothingness, soothing and tender and dependable. 

“I’ll hold his hand for you. You’re okay, Wonie, Niki’s got you. You’ll be right there and I’ll watch over Jay. He’s safe. He’s-” 

Good. Jake is good. Jungwon trusts him. 

Jungwon’s eased to the floor next to Jay’s bed, back to the wall. There are hands shucking off the wet and folding layers back to get to the cloth on his forearm. The lights overhead white out. Jungwon shuts his eyes. 

He’s safe. 

His head knocks back. He slips away. 

Chapter Text

The darkness is quiet. It’s like the woods at dawn. Familiar and eerie in its open stillness. Jungwon coasts in the whimsical in-between, his breaths rising and falling, his mouth dry and sewn shut. Head full of cotton. But his hearing is clear and alert, sensing small shifts in the space beyond. A sniffle. A shoe scuffing against the floor. His own heart beating steadily in his chest. He floats a while longer, then peels his eyes open to locate the source of the shuffling. 

Niki is pacing the length of the bedside, seemingly lost in thought. His jaw is clenched and he’s got his arms crossed tight over his chest; it takes him a couple more cycles of lethargic walking until he notices Jungwon’s awake. He pitches straight over to Jungwon’s side hissing, “Heeseung.”

Jungwon turns his head against the pillow- neck smarting horribly in protest with the movement- to spot Heeseung scrambling up from the floor where he’d been leaning against the wall of an enclosed room. Not the medwing, then. Jungwon blinks sluggishly at the two now hovering overhead. 

“He’s shaking again,” Niki says. 

Heeseung nods in approval. “That’s good.” Niki takes visible comfort in this response, shoulders slumping. It takes a lot to stress him out. If Jungwon’s arms weren’t made of lead he’d reach out to him. 

“Go grab Sunoo?” Heeseung asks Niki without taking his eyes off of Jungwon. Niki scurries away without a word. Jungwon watches the door close. The door to his room, he realizes. Their room. 

“Jay-?” Jungwon croaks, the sound fracturing out of him. Oh god, oh god- the last time he’d seen him there’d been yellow and purple and pale and still still still- 

Heeseung places a reassuring hand on Jungwon’s shoulder as he says, “He’ll recover.”

The faint strength Jungwon had left seeps out of him. The freedom that statement grants him is the final stretch of this near year long race. Undiluted peace flows through his veins, sticking behind his eyelids, stitching him to the bed. He’ll recover. He’ll recover. He’ll be okay. 

“He was depleted of- well. Everything. He was in a really bad state when we first arrived because of the cold. But Sunoo’s had him on constant fluids and pain meds and with lots of rest and physical therapy, he’s expected to make a full recovery. Uh. Physically.”

The word choice isn’t lost on Jungwon, nor is the way Heeseung nearly hacked out the last word like it was wildly difficult for him to even say. The speed of Jungwon’s thought process is all clogged up, and he can’t recall anything except that Heeseung carried Jay all the way here on his back. Jungwon tries to grapple for the older’s hand still resting on his shoulder, but his arms are too fucking heavy and he’s so fucking tired and his gratitude gets all tangled up within him as he tries to translate all of it into something of value. 

“Seung,” he garbles, chest caving with the force of his breath. “Thank- you- you carried him. Thank you. ”

Heeseung kneels by the bed, stroking his free hand in measured increments along Jungwon’s sternum, striving to realign his off-kilter breathing. “Don’t work yourself up now,” he says readily. “And you don’t need to thank me. It’s Jay. I’d do it again a thousand times over if it meant getting him back home.”

Home. The word and its connotations make Jungwon’s heart skip in his chest. He wavers with relief and exhaustion and is still trying to muster up the energy to respond when the door opens. 

Heeseung rises and steps away so Sunoo can sit on the bed next to Jungwon, rotating his body a bit to see him. Jungwon half-expected Sunoo’s sure hands and consoling smiles right away, but there’s no trace of the practiced, professional side in the young man in front of him. Sunoo isn’t regarding him with a medical tint over his eyes, but with the dear devotion of the boy who was by his side when the world was ending. When Jungwon had nothing and no one after his mother was murdered. When they found each other, and attached their hope for what they believed their lives could be to each other's sides. That’s who’s looking at Jungwon now. He knows Jungwon deeply, his fears and motivations and reasons that led him to where he is now. 

So he doesn’t chastise Jungwon for any of it. Following the lone soldier on a whim, practically weaponless and defenseless and on his own. Pushing himself to his limits and ridiculously beyond that. Putting himself on the line for Jay's sake- and Heeseung’s by extension- for the entire trip back. Sunoo says nothing. He knows. He knows Jungwon did it for Jay because he knows that life Sunoo and Jungwon started chasing together means nothing to Jungwon now without Jay in it. 

It’s not enough to say, “Hi,” and nothing else, but it’s a start. And it makes Sunoo smile, watery and real, so Jungwon can’t find it within himself to care if it’s trite.  

“Hey, darling,” Sunoo murmurs. His eyes flit unhurriedly over Jungwon face. A collection of moments pass. Jungwon looks up at Sunoo looking down at him, and watches in real time as all the shit Jungwon’s put them through these past however many hours seems to catch up with him; the older boy’s eyes swarm with tears. 

Jungwon frowns, the muscles rigid and unwilling to work with him. “You ‘kay?” 

A little bark of a laugh, then a sniff. Sunoo tucks a strand of Jungwon’s hair behind his ear, giving the lock the slightest, teasing tug. “I’m good. Happy you’re awake. Worry about yourself, hm?” 

Jungwon doesn’t miss a beat. “How’s Jay?” 

Sunoo’s eyes soften. Jungwon plunges on. He’d be tripping if he were upright. Stumbling to get the words out. It’s stilted like that. 

“Seung said he’ll- will he be okay? ‘S he awake?”

“He’ll recover,” Sunoo confirms. There’s that word again. Recover. Jungwon wants to grimace, but it’s not a bad word in and of itself. It suggests a journey to Better, which Jungwon was expecting. He just hasn’t had any time to prepare himself for it in the hectic space he’s shared with Jay since getting him back. He can’t help but want Jay to be healed now. For him to feel great now. For this all to be over now. 

“He hasn’t woken up yet, but that’s not a bad thing. His body’s been in survival mode for so long, and now that he’s safe…” Jungwon can fill in the missing pieces. The physical mistreatment Jay has suffered for months on end and its toll on his health is unimaginable. He’s going to need a long while to get to that Better. 

“He won’t be back to normal for quite some time.” Sunoo delivers it with an air that says he knows Jungwon is well aware. “And we won’t know how much all of it impacted him mentally until he’s fully awake and we can start having conversations with him… but he’ll recover, Wonie. With time. And support.”

Jungwon can’t manage anything other than a harrowed nod, throat scratchy with gravel he can’t swallow past. Sunoo seems to realize this too. His shoulders set and his gaze turns clinical. He’s moving on for now. 

Jungwon has watched him grow into this persona of his over the years, this part of Sunoo that is so intrinsically in line with his aspirations and talents. It first showed its face in the city beyond the forest, where their people rose from the dirt and banded together to fight the ongoing war of their lives. Sunoo learned everything he could from those in the city who practiced medicine, mind open and eyes wide in observation. It followed them into the forest- Sunoo’s hunger for knowledge, his drive to understand how medicine could help people recover from hellish abuses. 

Sunoo tore through the textbooks and handbooks they discovered upon arriving at the compound. Medical terms. Techniques. Explanations. Deep dives into old research on the human body- anatomy and mental health alike. He took notes and memorized and practiced what he knew and worked on what he didn’t know with all the rapturous eagerness of someone who’d discovered their calling. It’s always been extraordinary, and Jungwon is fascinated even now by the way Sunoo’s seriousness shifts from Jungwon’s eyes up to his eyebrow. 

Belatedly, Jungwon realizes the area feels especially stiff. There must be a dressing of some sort stuck there. He remembers the blade that struck that part of his face. His breath comes about harshly. He’s so very tired. 

Touch incredibly gentle at the arch of his eyebrow, Sunoo relays, “This didn’t need stitches, but your arm did.” Jungwon looks down as much as the twinge in his neck permits, catching the wrapping around the gash in his forearm. It looks fine right now, of course, hidden from the naked eye, and Jungwon is glad. The phantom pain ripping through it is more than enough of a reminder. 

Sunoo’s touch jumps to his hand. It’s similarly wrapped, nice and neat. “This needed patched up too, but the cut wasn’t deep. What was it from?”

Jungwon thinks on it, mind chugging along drowsily. “Soldier had a metal pole. Stopped it.”

“With your bare hand,” Niki deadpans over Sunoo’s head. Heeseung knocks into him with his shoulder. 

Sunoo pays them no mind. “Well, it’ll be just fine. Might scar.” He goes on, tone stable and dignified. “You have a minor concussion. Your nose swelled up but it went down overnight. It’s not broken. Bruising on your eye socket, chest, and back. Heeseung and Niki were both concerned about your knee, and you did tweak it damn good, but it’ll heal with rest. Dehydration, acute exhaustion, and…” 

Sunoo trails off like there’s something else, but he doesn’t finish what he was going to say and Jungwon’s snagged on the overnight anyway. When they got back the sun had set, sure, but only barely. He thinks. 

“How long was I out?”

“Fourteen hours,” Niki answers after checking his watch. Jungwon balks at him. “After we got back you passed out right away. We got you up on one of the hospital beds to get some fluids in you, but moved you here this morning. It was pretty loud in the medwing and we didn’t want you to wake up.” 

Jungwon remembers falling, falling back into someone’s chest, falling against the wall and descending to the floor before his consciousness sailed away. He remembers Jake swearing to him that he’d stay with Jay. That he’d keep him safe while Jungwon couldn’t. 

“Where’s Jake?” 

“With Jay,” Heeseung tells him. Jungwon’s chest warms. His eyes shut for a brief moment under the weight of the thankfulness overcoming him. Sweet, loyal Jake. 

“Jay,” Jungwon mumbles, trying with all his might to wrest his eyes open again. He does not succeed. “Need to see him. Can I see him?”

Warmth and quiet and Sunoo’s fingers easing his hair back. 

“When you wake up,” Sunoo promises. 

»

Jake’s with him. Just Jake.  

Jungwon feels more lucid now, but that means his body aches that much more, like clearer consciousness was the gateway to his nerve endings coming alive too. There’s rustling movement against the bed covers pulled over Jungwon’s chest and he tips his chin down to see his hand trembling fiercely where it’s laid atop the fabric. 

“Why ‘m I still…?” He lets his muttering dwindle, then fade out. It hurts to shift around but he does his best to wriggle out of the suffocating confinement of the blankets. 

Jake helps some, but doesn’t pull them away completely. Then, the introduction of his hand, cool against Jungwon’s clammy forehead. 

“You were hypothermic when we got back, Wonie,” he says, voice hushed. Jungwon stills. Oh. That sounds rather serious. And Sunoo hadn’t mentioned it. Jake seems to realize this, explaining, “The others didn’t tell you because they didn’t want to freak you out right after you’d come to the first time. But… when we were a mile out from getting back you just…” 

His eyes go distant, and Jungwon’s heart pangs. Down deep, unforgiving. Jake’s sudden, stretched out distractedness is yet another reminder of what Jungwon’s choices have done to all of them. He caused this. This inherent worry. This recollection of awful memories. 

“You just stopped,” Jake intones, eyes still ensnared somewhere far-off. “Stopped shaking. Stopped answering me. Everything. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I… I thought…” He looks at Jungwon then, at once, as if remembering himself. His eyes are pools of tears. “I thought we were gonna lose you.” The too goes unsaid, but Jungwon hears it in the tremor in Jake’s voice anyway. And that’s undeniably worse than if he’d just said it. 

With significant exertion, Jungwon grasps onto Jake’s fingers. The older boy’s expression shudders through many emotions, but the despondent smile that tugs at his mouth comes out on top. 

“So,” Jake says, going for lightheartedness but clearly still bogged down by the intensity of what he’s just felt, “you’re still shaking because your body’s working on healing itself. Warming you up. That’s a good thing.”

“Good thing,” Jungwon repeats, quiet, nodding congenially. Jake lets out a tiny laugh, and Jungwon would be wearing a twin grin if everything weren’t still wrong. It’s been long enough. 

Jake doesn’t look surprised at all when Jungwon starts the process of getting up. He doesn’t ask what he’s doing either, just helps Jungwon along. 

Their walk to the medwing is Jungwon’s throbbing ribs and twisting bruises and persistent shaking. His head is splintering. His knee objects to every step. It takes forever, but forever is a snap of a second compared to the eleven months Jungwon spent separated from Jay. 

Under the fluorescents, Jay looks worse than the last time Jungwon saw him, and better already, and as endlessly beautiful as he has always been. Swamped with equal parts sorrow and solace, a tearless sob splits straight through Jungwon like a bolt of lightning. Jake, ever the anchor in the storm, guides him to the chair at Jay’s bedside. 

And Jungwon breathes and drinks his fill of the sight of him and thinks he will make a home for himself right here until Jay wakes. Until he wakes and the world is right with itself once more. 

»

Sunoo finds him there later, listless and frozen in a void, one foot in the plane of nonexistence. Jungwon can’t stop looking at Jay, can’t tear his eyes away from the older boy’s face and the rise and fall of his chest, but he seeks out Sunoo’s updates about Jay’s condition like he needs water- to function, to think, to relinquish the ache in his head. 

Jungwon has yet to see the true extent of Jay’s injuries, and the realization has him floundering as Sunoo starts to delicately extract the covers tucked up under Jay’s chin. Jungwon hadn’t forgotten that Jay was injured- how could he?- but his facility uniform consisting of long sleeves and pants and then his piled-on layers from Heeseung and Jungwon and then his immediate transfer to the medical bed and envelopment in blankets to revive him from the journey home sort of put the reality of it out of Jungwon’s mind. 

He’ll see it now, though. His spine straightens up, ramrod and steely and- Sunoo notices. Pauses the drawback of the blanket at the very edge of Jay’s short-sleeved shirt. Looks at Jungwon haltingly. 

“Jungwon,” he says, voice low. “Are you sure?” Are you sure you want to see? Are you ready to handle it? 

Jungwon nods his head.

He’s seen the arms of the survivors they’ve brought here from other faculties. He’s seen it firsthand too many fucking times because Unification is nothing if not cruel and consistent. The soldiers must have direct orders from doctors and researchers in the Oases because it’s been ingrained in all of those fuckers that the veins in the arms are the best source to draw (steal) blood from. Blood from their perfect, sole candidates. 

Jungwon’s seen the severe bruising and busted blood vessels snaking right under the surface, reaching out in tendrils up biceps and down forearms, wrapping about elbows, and sometimes, in the worst cases, shutting down an arm’s motor function. Permanently. Too much irreparable damage to recover from. He’s seen it all.

But it’s worse with Jay. On Jay. Because Jungwon knows him and fosters the protection of his well being above all else and to have undergone such abuse brought Jay so much unfathomable pain. 

His skin is marred. The dark blues and deep purples are stark against the otherwise pallor of his complexion. Jungwon remembers his skin in the summer- rich in color, glistening and gorgeous in the sun. That color has been stripped from him, stolen, and Jungwon’s mind whirls with words like blood loss and deficiencies and aches and pain and inflammation and swelling- and oh, the swelling. 

The slants of the insides of his arms have ballooned up unnaturally and Sunoo is so, so careful with the sensitive areas. They’re not oozing. The wounds don’t seem to be external at all, it’s just that the internal damage is so extreme that it’s permeating just under his skin. It’s horrid to witness. 

Jungwon’s mouth dropped open at some point. He says nothing as sickness churns in his gut. He pushes it down. Away. He’s already standing- he stood up when Sunoo arrived- and he moves. Fixes the covers so they lay neatly across Jay’s waist. Closes his damn mouth, clamps his jaw tightly. Tries to be present. 

Sunoo is silent, but Jungwon can tell by the way his lips are pressed together that he is not unaffected. He’s always so mindful of keeping his face and body language neutral when treating patients to avoid unnecessary panic, but it doesn’t seem like he can stop wincing. Jay is Jay. And Sunoo is undoubtedly reeling with all of this, just as Jungwon is. 

Sunoo coughs, strangled like he was trying to keep it mostly to himself, then hastens away into his office at the end of the medwing where he keeps his textbooks, records, and supplies. He returns with a medicine Jungwon doesn’t know the name of, telling Jungwon it numbs pain and will help Jay’s body heal. Jungwon watches him insert it into Jay’s IV with his eyes glazed over. 

Sunoo must deem that there’s nothing else they can do at the moment. He rests his hands on the mattress, leans his weight into the hold, and hangs his head. Jay sleeps on. Still, still, still. 

When Sunoo stands up again, he looks very discouraged and very tired. Jungwon wonders how long it’s been since he got proper sleep. The older boy’s been training a few people over the past year to help out in the medwing, but after big raids like the very recent one he inevitably works himself to the bone no matter how much aid he has. Not to mention Jay being in the mix this time. 

“I read a passage about drawing blood,” Sunoo starts wearily, fixing the covers back over Jay’s body. “It was from before, of course- so it’s possible this exact number has changed over the generations with how our bodies evolved, conditioned to live in these elements- but the text said we’re not supposed to give blood more than six times a year. Six. Anything surpassing that is no longer safe, or healthy. I… I don’t know how much they took from him. Or how often.”

Jungwon nods gravely, following right along.

“Based on what the people we’ve saved in the past have said, it really depends on the person- how much blood they take. Depends on how strong they are. How far they can be pushed without dying.”

Nose stinging, throat tightening, Jungwon acknowledges the obvious: Jay was one of the strong ones. They took so much from him, more than some others, just because of his body makeup. Because of who he is. Was. His frame is a shadow of what it was. His natural power ripped from him. 

Jungwon has spoken with many they saved who recovered well. Heard of the horrors that being locked away in a facility entails. Not only the pain and agonizing despair and loneliness and fear, but the psychological, feral torture that is having basic needs like food and water and cleanliness restricted or entirely withheld. The soldiers keep the captured fed and hydrated just enough to keep their blood pumping, washed up just enough that they don’t fall ill with disease and die before they get all that they can from them. 

Voice warbly, Sunoo says, “We won’t know the details of his experience until he wants to talk about it. If he ever wants to. But Jungwon… the damage here, it’s… it’s worse than we usually see.”

And there’s fear in his eyes. Their head of medicine. He’s scared. And slightly apprehensive, it seems, as if he’s second-guessing if he should’ve spoken his thoughts aloud after all. To Jungwon, that is. Jungwon appreciates the sentiment, but he would’ve ended up this way whether Sunoo had said it or not, whether Sunoo was here at all. Because Jungwon knows how bad it is. He knows.

He sits with an abrupt thump, knees giving out, and he’s not really sure what happens around him for a long while after that. 

»

The first time Jay wakes, it’s clear he doesn’t know where he is. His eyes, clouded over with blind distress, flick insensibly from the wall across the way to the ceiling. Up, down. Up, down. Little punched-out breaths of pained disorientation keep escaping his parted mouth and Jungwon can only lean in as close as he dares, trying with unheard words to ground him. 

But Jay doesn’t understand him. Can’t hear him, can’t see him. Can’t latch onto anything at all.

All together, it’s only twenty seconds or so of consciousness. When the older’s panic relents his tense body goes slack against the bed, eyelids drooping shut. It’s utterly quiet once more. Sunoo told Jungwon this would happen. That Jay would wake in unpredictable bursts and fall back asleep just as quickly. 

It doesn’t make it better. His wakefulness was so short-lived, it was like Jungwon blinked and it was over. Like it didn’t fucking happen at all. 

»

The second time, Jay’s gaze is glassy instead of flooded with fear. He doesn’t move any part of his body even an inch, just stares ahead for so long Jungwon wonders if he’s fallen back asleep with his eyes open. Sunoo did administer him more medicine not too long ago; maybe the drugs have made him loopy enough to warrant such a state. 

That’s just about when Jay turns his head and looks at Jungwon. Jungwon, rooted to his damn chair. No words come. It would be useless anyway. Pointless. Sliding the back of his hand along the blanket until he finds the underside of one of Jay’s, he hopes the touch will come across as reverently as he intends it to. 

There’s not a twitch of emotional change in Jay. Nothing to give away what he’s feeling, thinking. He watches Jungwon, languid, as if through a sheer curtain. Allowed to observe but not interact. Jungwon distantly recognizes it’s become notably harder to breathe. 

“Won,” Jay sighs, so, so weakly. Jungwon nearly misses it, and he’s on the very edge here, desperately hanging on to any little thing that comes out of his mouth. The utterance of his name was cracked with disuse, but airy with a dreamlike quality. Like Jay is just so sure he’s still sleeping. Sure this isn’t real. Sure he isn’t somewhere that Jungwon could be looking back at him in the flesh. 

Jungwon chokes, and if he hadn’t been sitting already he would have crashed down to his knees, to his hands. He splutters in the face of the blankness pasted to Jay’s features as he reaches forward to caress a thumb over the older’s gaunt cheekbone. 

“Hey,” Jungwon finally gets out. “Hi, sweetheart. Jay. You’re safe. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

There: the first flicker of change to Jay’s expression. The most subtle crease between his eyebrows. 

“You’re crying,” he mutters, then closes his eyes. 

»

Niki comes with dried fruit from the summer season’s rations and a little soup broth in tow. Jungwon does his best to consume some of both, if not for himself then for his youngest friend’s poorly concealed worry and Sunoo’s poorly concealed glances while he’s checking on Jay. 

Jungwon is unsure of how long it’s been since the last time Jay woke up. He’s waiting. He’s just waiting. How long has he been waiting? Minutes. Hours. Eleven months. A lifetime. 

“How’s your head?” Niki asks. 

It feels like shit. It’s swimming. His temples are pounding. “Okay.”

Niki's skepticism lowers to his forearm. “How’s your arm?”

Thrumming pain is zipping through it in one second intervals. It feels even shittier than the concussion. “Less okay.”

Niki takes these responses as they are, though he doesn’t seem to particularly like them. More time passes. 

“I don’t think he knows he’s safe,” Jungwon tells Niki. The younger boy nods, the gesture threadbare. His eyes are on Jay. 

“We’ll show him he is.” 

A while later, Niki juts his chin at Jungwon’s ditched bowl. Says, “You should eat more.”

Jungwon agrees with him halfheartedly but makes no move to do so in actuality. A thought occurs to him, a couple seconds too late to be conveyed in a timely manner. He clears his throat. Says it anyway. 

“Did you?” 

Niki stops short. Turns away from Jay to look at Jungwon. Doesn’t respond, as if he’s not sure what Jungwon’s referring to. 

“Eat,” Jungwon clarifies. “Did you eat?”

And Niki still just looks at him for a long moment before saying that he did. The interaction isn’t awkward, just. Out of place. Jungwon realizes he used to ask Niki that all the time- an old habit derived from growing up together with nothing. With nobody else to look after them but each other. 

But that was before. And Niki hadn’t expected to be asked that just now. 

How long has it been since Jungwon did such a bare minimum check in with him? How much has he let the younger down? How many times did Niki need him when Jungwon couldn’t even spare him a moment of his attention? How much has he failed him? 

Tracing Jay’s bed covers with numb fingers, Jungwon swallows thickly. How much has he missed?

»

Jungwon jerks awake so hard his chair scrapes against the floor as his legs kick out. Jay, fuck, where’s-

He’s here. Still. Haunting. Breathtaking. Here.

When did Jungwon even close his eyes? He stares at Jay’s sleeping face until the thud of his heart subsides to a steady rhythm, and still long after that. 

Heeseung appears at his side then, bleary eyed but seemingly better rested than he was when they returned from their trek through the winter storm. Jungwon really doesn’t know how long ago that was. 

Craning his neck and rolling his shoulders back, Heeseung says, “You need to sleep.” 

Jungwon adjusts in his chair. His left leg has fallen asleep, buzzing with that strange staticky sensation. He counts one, two, three rounds of Jay’s breathing. A few more. 

“Can’t,” he finally says, then remembers he just was. Remedies with, “Shouldn’t.” 

“Should,” Heeseung counters, but there’s no bite to it. He hauls his chair over so it’s right beside Jungwon’s. There aren’t arms on the seats so Heeseung is able to sit back comfortably and sidle in next to Jungwon simultaneously. He throws Jungwon an expectant look. 

“One long sleep isn’t enough to recover from what you went through, Won. You need rest. I just woke up so there’s no chance of me dozing off here. I’ll keep a close eye on him and if he wakes, I’ll wake you.”

Jungwon’s back and stomach are aching from the bruising and his arm is pulsating and exhaustion is so much at the forefront of everything that it doesn’t take more convincing than that. Jungwon trusts Heeseung to keep a sharp eye on Jay. He cants sideways, leans his temple against Heeseung’s shoulder, and drops off. 

»

Jungwon wakes up what must be a handful of hours later, judging by how badly he needs to go to the bathroom. He creaks and wobbles as he stands, waving off Heeseung’s hands and heading to the communal bathroom down the hall from the medwing. When he gets back, Heeseung switches with him, leaving to freshen up and get more water. He mentions grabbing food too. 

He hasn’t been gone more than a minute when Jay stirs awake for the third time. Jungwon scoots his chair as close as the divide of the mattress will allow and watches Jay watch him. He seems more in tune with himself this bout of consciousness, but no less fatigued. Jungwon says nothing. Cradles his hand. Shakes as he smooths his fingertips across Jay’s ashen skin. 

“You’re not real,” Jay says. It’s obviously meant to be a comment for himself. His tone is one of finality, unvarnished and devastated. 

“I am,” Jungwon gasps, dipping in even closer. He forces himself through a deep breath, if only to get vigor packed beneath his lungs to repeat, “I am,” with startlingly more clarity than before. “I’m here with you. We’re in the compound, and I’m not leaving you. Never again.”

Fogginess dawns over Jay’s bearing. His weariness is palpable and he looks so sad. So defeated. How many dreams has Jay had that were exactly like this? Being back home with an indication of safety right within reach, Jungwon directly in front of him, comforting him and vowing nothing else would happen to him? Jungwon’s heart shatters at the ruinous thought. How many times did Jay dream this in the throes of fitful sleep just to have it snatched away upon waking up? Waking up in that white room with barbarity waiting on the other side of the impenetrable door to hurt him. 

“This is real,” Jungwon says again, then again, then a third time, losing himself to how much he wants Jay to believe it, believe him. Willing the truth to be revealed to Jay and wholly understood. “This is real and I’m real and you’re not alone, Jay. I swear to fucking god. You’re not alone.”

Jay’s breath hitches. They’re close enough to each other that his eyes have to travel back and forth between Jungwon’s; they widen a bit with every pass. And maybe, just maybe, Jay’s tentatively beginning to believe him. 

Jungwon nods, frantic. Touches him, gentle. 

“Won,” Jay says, and Jungwon’s chest gives out at the sound of his name from those lips. With that tone. “Please be here when I wake up.” Pleading. Broken and tired and falling away. “Please.” 

Hell will fucking freeze over before Jungwon leaves his side. 

»

Jake is camped out in the chair by Jungwon’s side when Taeyong stops by. He has more water and snacks and supplies. He busies himself with spreading it all out on the side table and draping a blanket about Jungwon’s shoulders. Jungwon drifts. Waiting. Waiting. He’s already getting tired again but refuses to put his head down or even close his eyes. 

Once Taeyong runs out of things to do he goes and stands on the other side of Jay’s sleeping form with his hands in his pockets. He’s come around several times already, all when Jay wasn’t awake, as has Mark. Mark is in their room at the moment with Sujin, who’d apparently just gone to sleep after a long time spent bargaining.

“I’m sure this is the last thing on your mind anyway,” Taeyong says to Jungwon softly, “but I wanted to be clear that you are exempt from tracking and raids for the time being. You need to recover your strength. And I know you’re aware you’ll likely play a large role in Jay recovering his. So don’t worry about leading the team and just focus on getting better.”

“Thank you,” Jungwon says sincerely, picking at a loose thread in the blanket crossed over his chest. 

Taeyong’s answering smile is kind, and sad. “Of course. And…” Jungwon looks away from Jay’s sunken eyes to his leader standing across from him. “You’re not alone in this, Jungwon. I won’t say that we understand what you’ve gone through. I know his disappearance was different for you than it was for any of us. But we care about him. And we care about you. So he’s not your responsibility alone from here on out. Okay? I know your main concern is going to be helping him and that’s perfectly fine. But that means you’ve got to let us help you too.”

Jungwon can’t formulate a response but Taeyong rarely says things like this anticipating one. Jake, solid and soundless beside him, slinks a hand between the crest of Jungwon’s seat and Jungwon himself to rub his back. And Jungwon is grateful for them and their unprompted assurances. Even after he checked out for nearly a year, trapped in the worst, mind rotting, debilitating depression of his life. They’re still here for him. Looking out for him. 

“Thank you,” Jungwon whispers again, husky with feeling this time. Taeyong nods, heartfelt and tender. Jake kneads a hand along his shoulder blades, relaxed and deliberate. Jungwon breathes and willingly leans into the touch. 

»

The fourth time, Jay looks at him for a while, much like the last time he was awake. Looks and looks and doesn’t spiral or ask questions or cry. He’s perpetually bone-weary; that much is plainly written in the way his body seems to be pinned to the mattress. It’s draining the emotion from his face, from his voice when he says, “Hey.”

Jungwon feels his own face quivering, giving way for the anxious relief sweeping through. He brushes a bit of Jay’s hair away from his forehead. It’s so dirty, grimy and greasy with oil and debris. They’ve wiped his body down the best they could without jostling him about but decided to wait on tackling his hair until he’s staying awake more consistently. It’s long too. Grown out and knotted, matted. Jungwon used to cut it for him. Wonders when he’ll be able to do it again. If Jay will let him. If he’d even want him to.  

“Hi,” Jungwon returns, trying for a smile. Jay stares at him. 

“You’re still here.” There’s the smallest hint of astonishment in what must be Jay’s realization that all of this is, in fact, real, but little else. Not acceptance. Not yet. 

A rock drops in the pit of Jungwon’s stomach. Jay breaks eye contact and looks to the rest of the room, to the rest of the patients sprawled out down the way. Jungwon looks too. So many hurting people in this place. Most are sleeping. Recovery won’t be easy for any of them. It never is. 

A minuscule ripple of confusion pops up on Jay’s forehead as he turns his head back to Jungwon, motions slow, slow, slow. “What happened?”

Jungwon tells him, volume low so as not to overwhelm him. Skimming over all that occurred to bring him back isn’t a small report, but Jungwon keeps it uncomplicated for now on purpose. He tells him that they looked and looked for him in the wake of his disappearance. That they raided multiple facilities in an effort to find him. Jungwon tells him about the Uni soldier. Jay’s knife. Following the soldier to the facility Jay was in, then having to go back to gather the others. Finding him. Heeseung carrying him back through the snow.

“Snow,” Jay repeats hoarsely. His demeanor flattens out, goes mute and cold. That stone in Jungwon’s stomach plummets further still. “How long has it been?” 

He asks it in a way that implies he doesn’t want to know the answer. Jungwon knows he must tell him anyway. 

“Ten months,” he says, and it is grief. “Almost eleven.”

The calculation of what that means in relation to when he was taken diverts Jay for several lengthy moments. When he’s back with Jungwon- pupils shaking, breath collapsing- his eyes are wet with tears. Jungwon can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t do this to him. Can’t keep any of it from him. 

“It’s winter now?” Jay says. And it is grief. Heartbreak. Detached. 

 “Yeah, Jay,” Jungwon rasps, hurting for him. Hurting for all the older’s lost. “It is.”

»

Jungwon asks where Sunghoon’s been, as he hasn’t seen him since they returned. Jake tells him Sunghoon’s fighting off a pretty serious cold. Sunoo’s been checking in on him periodically where he’s recovering in his room since it’s not the kind of illness that would land him a spot in the medwing. Sunoo inferred that the cold was brought about by Sunghoon already being sick before the raid and then going out headlong into the weather anyway. His immune system took quite the hit, but he’ll be alright in a few days. 

Taeyong, Mark, and Sujin visit. Their leader stands at the foot of the bed, Sujin propped on his hip, trying his best to explain to the little girl why Jay won’t wake up to meet her right now. She doesn’t quite understand the state that he’s in and none of them bring up her own time in the facility they saved her from unless she’s the one who mentions it first. Comparing her past to Jay’s present merely for her young perception isn’t an option. 

Mark resolves to tell her Jay’s sick and he’s sleeping a lot so he can get better. This seems to placate her, though her pout doesn’t dissipate completely. 

Wandering over to Jungwon’s side, Mark places a hand on Jungwon’s shoulder as he says, “And he is going to get better.” Quietly. Firmly. Jungwon nods, squeezing Mark’s hand for a fleeting pulse, exceptionally aware of the eyes watching the exchange from her hideaway against the side of Taeyong’s neck. 

Jungwon needs to agree anyway, for his own sake. Needs to believe it.

 »

Sunoo warns him. 

He says Jay’s torso looks bad. Really bad. Arguably worse than his arms. Worse than any other part of him. Jungwon’s been sat here so long, he didn’t get how he hadn’t seen it yet, but Sunoo told him the first time they fixed Jay up was right after Jungwon passed out after getting back, and the second was while Jungwon dozed on Heeseung’s shoulder. 

So Jungwon hasn’t seen it, and evidently it’s bad enough that Sunoo wants to talk him through it beforehand. Jesus. The short speech includes that Jungwon and Heeseung were correct in their hasty initial check- Jay has no broken ribs. But they are bruised to hell and horrifically swollen. There was also an open wound on Jay’s side near his hip bone, but it’s been taken care of and they’ll keep a close eye on it to ensure bacteria that could lead to infection isn’t introduced to the area. 

Sunoo warned him. But Jungwon wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for this. 

The myriad of colors is appalling. There’s splotchy patches of skin, but hardly any of it is untouched. Not just blues and purples but blacks and yellows and browns. This- a voice echoes in Jungwon’s head- this wasn’t needles. This was shoes. Fists. He thinks of the pole that that one damned soldier swung at him, feels the remnant of its damage in the palm of his hand. How many times did that pole- or worse things- make contact with Jay’s skin? Sending him keeling over, eyes pinched shut in agony, hands quaking in front of his body in a feeble attempt to protect himself. What if he wasn’t upright at all? Grating pain already having reduced him to the floor, curled in over his own body- 

Jay was one of the strong ones, and they punished him for it. 

The sickness from before comes roaring back and Jungwon flings himself away from the bed, ducks out of the medwing, staggers down the hallway until he can trip into the first storage room he comes upon- just to be alone. Just to expel the contents of his stomach. 

He sees Jay’s face contorted and tormented and his shoulders shaking and his middle heaving after rounds of beatings, abandoned on the floor of that desolate room, freezing and forlorn and likely believing that no one was ever going to come for him-

The bile comes up fast and vicious and rancid. Jungwon doesn’t have much that could come up anyway, but that doesn’t stop his senses from burning with the sting of it all as he squats over the sick, gagging and coughing and then fighting to get proper breaths in around the sobbing that overtakes him. 

He spits, trying to clear the acid from his mouth. Drags the back of his hand across his face. Startles himself into another sob when that just makes the whole mess worse. He tries to look at the surrounding shelves to see what he could use to clean it up, but his vision’s tilting and he’s still crying so everything’s fuzzy and he needs to get back-

He’ll get back to Jay. To Sunoo. Sunoo will know what to do. 

He’s just entered the hallway when Niki runs into him at full speed. The younger boy secures Jungwon by the shoulders and stops their swaying in the aftermath of the collision. Jungwon watches Niki’s face sag in relief upon realizing it’s Jungwon, then wrinkle up again while taking him in. 

“Sorry,” is all Jungwon can think to say, motioning at the storage room. Niki’s gaze moves over his shoulder to the floor inside. Jungwon closes his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Niki says gingerly. “I’ll take care of it.” 

Niki and Sunoo’s room is nearby and that’s where Niki takes him. He wets a washcloth, cleans Jungwon up. Gives him a change of clothes. Gives him a bottle of water to rinse his mouth out. Encourages him toward the medwing when they’re back in the hallway. Jungwon hesitates, torn. 

“It’s okay, Jungwon. You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.” 

Jungwon goes, still crying somehow. Lightly, now. A bit mindless. Jungwon can’t fix this. Can’t make it right. Can’t even make it better. Can’t take Jay’s pain away. Can’t keep himself under control. 

Sunoo turns the corner right before Jungwon reaches the medwing, looking harried enough that Jungwon supposes he was probably going to look for him too. Sunoo’s face falls. 

“Oh, my friend,” he whispers. Arms open and ready and waiting. 

»

Once Jungwon’s composed himself, Sunoo goes to find Niki. He says depending on how the younger boy’s feeling, they might try to sleep some. Both of them have been working their asses off in the medwing so Jungwon urges him to get them both resting regardless of whatever reason Niki gives for evading sleep. Sunoo fusses for a moment, worried about leaving Jungwon alone, but that latter assures him he’s fine now. His recent discharge of emotion may help him regulate for a while. 

When makes his way to Jay’s side, Jay’s eyelids are dancing. He’s awake, but just barely. Hasn’t been for long. 

Jungwon eases down on the bed beside his hip instead of taking the chair, movements undisruptive and exceedingly careful. Jay smacks his lips. It’s such a cute, disgruntled, normal action that Jungwon huffs out a laugh. A laugh. He genuinely can’t remember-

Jay starts to move. Shoulders shimmying, face scrunching up in discomfort. He grunts out a wheeze of pain, likely from the pull of the muscles in his arms and torso, and Jungwon hurries to pull the blankets down, giving him more room to wiggle about. Jay settles, quiet. His eyes aren’t quiet, though. They’re dark and awake and staring at Jungwon. Like he’s taking him in. Like he’s taking him apart. 

Jungwon ghosts his fingers over the back of Jay’s now uncovered hand, quiet too. He’s not quite sure what Jay’s looking at- then jolts when he remembers the swelling of his nose that progressed over to his eye socket and the bruised knot on his forehead and the slash through his eyebrow. What could be bandaged up is covered, but Jungwon must look a wreck anyway. The aching across his face is so dull in comparison to the constant pain in his arm that he’d honestly put it out of mind. 

Jay dislodges Jungwon’s touch to raise his hand up to Jungwon’s face. The strain of doing so crosses the older’s expression, but other than a heavy exhale he doesn’t say or do anything that signals he’s in any immediate, worse pain. Jungwon still leans closer to lessen the distance for him, though he doesn’t know what he’s- 

Jay’s touch is feather light. For a stunned moment, Jungwon thinks he’s going for his swollen nose, or maybe the disturbing color blooming around his eye. But Jay’s fingers grace under his eyes instead. 

He’s wiping away Jungwon’s tears. 

Jungwon truly had stopped crying, but hadn’t bothered to dry the wetness left behind. Hadn’t thought to. And here Jay is, doing it for him. 

Jungwon is so disarmed by the sweet nature of this behavior, by- again- how fucking normal it is in relation to their past, that all he can do is gape at him. 

Jay’s strength flags quickly. His hand drops from Jungwon’s face, and Jungwon catches it to lower it to his chest again. The older’s eyes are already closing. Sunoo probably gave him another dose of pain medication while Jungwon gone. The medicine makes him tired, but that’s  good. Sleeping means healing. 

“What happened to your arm?” Jay asks. Jungwon draws his plastered forearm closer to himself, dismissing the question with a shake of his head. 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

Jay has the gall to look vaguely affronted. Stubborn, stubborn boy. Jungwon is so fond of him his heart aches. He cracks the smallest of smiles and it’s odd. The muscles are pulled all wrong, tight and unfamiliar. It feels good. 

Jay doesn’t seem averse to touch but Jungwon still keeps his movements plain and slow as he goes to move Jay’s hair back like he did hours before. Jay’s eyes track him the whole way. 

“It matters,” Jay slurs, obstinate. His eyelids flutter shut and don’t budge again. “It’s you.” The smile slides right off Jungwon’s face, taken aback. 

“Tell me later,” Jay says, then his breathing evens out. 

Later, Jungwon thinks deliriously. Goosebumps break out all over his skin, flushing his body with- with hope. 

Later. They have that now, don’t they? 

Jungwon thinks sleep will come easy for himself too. 

Chapter Text

Jay’s fingers are curled around his bandaged forearm. 

The first time this happened when Jungwon woke up yesterday morning, he’d fallen to pieces. This man has had so much taken away from him, but one aspect Unification could never touch is his humanity. His innate attentiveness. The love that originates down deep in his core. He’d been beaten and abused and drained dry of his very life source, and yet. Jungwon roused from sleep to find him cradling the injury just as he is now, holding him even as they both rested. 

The tears don’t come this time around, but it’s a near thing. Jungwon shifts his arm so their hands meet instead. They look good together- their skin tones, no matter what condition either of them are in. The ridges and lines of their fingers. They fit. It’s a consoling sight, gradually soothing the all-consuming terror that Jay would disappear if he blinked too long the previous four days. Now that panic has been redirected to all the unknowns of the future, and namely, Jay’s healing.

Awake enough now to register it, Jungwon realizes his body is still shaking. Tremors snake from his neck into his shoulders, down his arms, legs, about his entire midsection. The last few days he was chalking it up to his aggravated anxiety about Jay, but then remembered the whole hypothermic thing. He’d hoped his system would’ve regulated itself by now- day five since their winter trek- but it appears that was a foolish aspiration. Sunoo’s report has him thinking it may be a couple more days before he’s properly healed up enough that his body will quit the involuntary trembling. 

Jungwon’s surveying Jay’s blissful, sleeping face and thinking about what they’re going to do with his poor, matted hair when Niki comes and sits beside him with breakfast. They eat together quietly, and once they’ve finished Jungwon asks where Sunoo is. Niki points him toward Sunoo’s office and- Jungwon should’ve known. He heads that way once Niki assures him he’s good to stay with Jay awhile. 

Sunoo’s been holed away in his study since yesterday morning. Most of the current patients in the medwing have plateaued enough that his constant supervision is no longer a necessity. Several of his trained helpers are on the floor at all times, and his office is at the end of the long room anyway if they need his help with something. Jungwon gives a brisk rap of his knuckles on the door and waits for Sunoo’s grunt before letting himself in. 

His friend is hunched over the cluttered desk flush to the wall, books upon books and pages of notes everywhere. Sunoo looks over at him and smiles tiredly. He must be alright with taking a break because he pushes his chair back from the desk. 

“How are these?” he says in lieu of greeting, holding a hand out for Jungwon’s arms and touching at both the large plaster and the smaller one encasing Jungwon’s other palm. Jungwon tells him the usual; they’re both stinging with every movement, burning ceaselessly. Sunoo nods. This is simply part of the healing process. 

“How ‘bout your knee?” is Sunoo’s next question. Sleeping more consistently than he has in weeks in the past two days alone has aided in relieving the twinge in his knee a remarkable amount, as has all the sitting. He tells Sunoo as much and the older is glad to hear it. Their conversation wanders to what Sunoo’s been pouring over. 

“I’m doing more research on anemia,” Sunoo tells him. Jungwon recalls the term from those they’ve saved in the past who were diagnosed with it. Still, he appreciates Sunoo’s refresher as it comes. “It’s a blood disorder that stems from a lack of blood cells residing in or being produced in the body. Thus preventing the body from getting enough oxygen, which often leads to fatigue, dizziness, shortness of breath, discolored skin. And- just a fuck ton more.”

Stress radiates from Sunoo’s very being. And Jungwon knows why Sunoo’s had this sudden urgency to read up on all of this, scouring texts for as much information as possible and committing facts and details to memory. He knows. 

“How long will it take him to recover from it?” he says, low. Heavy. 

Sunoo turns from where he’d begun staring mindlessly at his scribbled writing, eyes glazed and frazzled. 

“It’s… different for everyone. Could be three months. Could be six. He could never get better at all.”

Jungwon’s nose tingles, threatening tears. “What about a blood transfusion?” He’s paid attention. He’s heard Sunoo mention them in the past, but he’s not present enough in the medwing to know if they’ve performed one here or not. 

Sunoo shakes his head bleakly. “I don’t have the supplies I need to do a successful one, let alone the tools to ensure Jay’s blood type in the first place. Everything would have to go perfectly, and we can’t risk taking anymore from him to figure out what that situation would look like. And even if we could do it, it’d just be a temporary solution. It wouldn’t heal him completely.” 

Helpless tears prick Jungwon’s eyes now. He doesn’t let them slip over his lash line. “Then what do we do?” he asks, voice punched out of him.

Sunoo sniffs, collecting himself. He sits up straighter in his chair. 

“Monitor him. Track his water intake. Curate a specific diet for him. The books say foods rich in iron will help improve the production of red blood cells. I’ve got-” he rummages through his papers- “a list. Fruit, red meat, spinach, kale. And then- sleep. A lot of sleep. Regular exercise, but in short increments until we can work him up longer distances and greater intensities.”

There’s more. There’s something else amiss here, making Sunoo’s forehead crease, making the air about him vibrate with uneasiness. Something making him bury himself in research of a subject he’s already explored in the past. Something he’s working to distract himself from. 

Jungwon scoots closer. “What is it?”

In utter opposition to the way Sunoo’s breathing picks up, his shoulders slump, the burden too massive now. When he says, “Wonie,” it’s all choked up; he’s started to cry. He’s suddenly dwarfed by the chair he sits in, and when he turns his face to Jungwon he looks every bit the lost child he was when they met just outside the dry plains all those years ago. Jungwon’s heart pinches. 

“I’m running out of- everything,” Sunoo says. Jungwon’s stomach drops. He looks to the locked medicine cabinet behind Sunoo’s back, to the storage shelves. The only access they have to medical aid is that which they accumulate from the facilities they raid. The fact that it’s not enough in relation to how many people they’re saving is plainly demonstrated by the weak tears that slink from Sunoo’s eyes. 

“I don’t know what to do. If I can’t help them. If people start…” 

He sounds half his age, caught up in fear’s clutches. Jungwon eliminates the space between them, wrapping one arm about Sunoo’s shoulders and the other around his head, drawing him into his chest. A futile attempt to shield him from this, but an attempt all the same. 

Sunoo holds tight to the back of his shirt and whimpers, “What am I gonna do?”

Jungwon stares blankly at the painstaking notes laid out all over the desk and he does not have an answer. 

»

Jay turns a corner in the middle of day six. 

In his newfound stretches of wakefulness, he asks questions. At first, Jungwon is clumsy with the older’s full attention, used to him saying a few sentences, if anything at all, before gliding back into sleep. It’s like a switch was flipped; now he can go up to an hour before needing to shut his eyes again. 

Jungwon tells him what he wants to know, which is mostly just what he’s missed. Jungwon tells him about Sujin and Sunghoon coming into their lives the very night Jay was taken away. About Sujin’s form crumpled against Mark’s chest in the early dawn light as he carried her inside. About how she’s carved a home for herself in the close-knit bond of Taeyong and Mark’s relationship, and then the rest of their group in turn. A young woman taught Taeyong how to braid Sujin’s hair a few weeks back, and picturing it must be a lovely enough thought because that makes Jay smile. 

Jungwon tells him about Sunghoon’s speedy recovery and eager transition into their ranks. He was quick on the uptake of their combat and alight with the fiery passion all raiders need to join the cause. He’s also been helping out on the tracking team. He has a brutal past like them all, but he’s hardworking and kind. Jay will like him. Jay says he wants to meet him. 

When Jay asks who stepped up to take over combat and skills training in his absence, Jungwon tells him about the fine job Mark’s done over the past months. He hesitates to relay the discouraging news that Jay’s capture scared their people, but does so anyway. Many, many individuals have given their precious lives to this fight, but never in the two years of their being here in the forest has one of their own been taken. It’s baffling that it hadn’t happened before, considering the very nature of what the raids entail. 

But when it did happen, and Jay’s well-known, well-loved presence was snatched from them, it sobered everyone right up. The number of those willing to join the raids went down, and the number of those who were saved from facilities and then approached with the opportunity to fight if they wanted to was an even smaller amount. 

All this occurred while Jungwon was lost in the throes of his rampant search for Jay, but he hadn’t fully understood the statistics of their declined volunteers until getting Jay back. 

Their people know he’s back too. Some that are in the medwing visiting others or helping out pass by the end of his bed and either gawk, shell-shocked, or try to talk to him. Jungwon resolutely steers both reactions away with gentle firmness. It’s the last thing Jay needs to be rallying his energy to deal with. 

On day seven, Jay wants more. More details. How many people have died- too many. How many people they’ve saved- never enough. How many facilities they raided before the one they saved him from- five. He asks again how Jungwon found the one he was in. 

Jungwon recounts the green, intricately decorated hilt sticking out of the lone soldier’s pocket. A stark savior of color against the backdrop of the snow. How he’d followed the soldier to the facility until the stranger vanished down the hill into the white. How Jungwon had come back to the compound for his weapons, for backup. How they’d rained hell down on the place holding Jay captive. How Jungwon had found him at the end of the halls, the last of his options, the last of his hope. Heeseung carrying him back. Them fighting against all odds, fear and chill and apprehension at their backs. 

“Doesn’t make any sense,” Jay mutters, propped up just enough against his pillows to look down at their joined hands. Jungwon is still deathly afraid of sitting too near, of hurting him in any way, but he can’t deny himself the consolation of touching at least some part of him. Feeding the screaming internal alarm to make sure Jay’s still real. Still here. 

“The knife,” Jay goes on. “The soldier. Doesn’t make sense.” 

Jungwon nods. “I know.” Because it really doesn’t. He will never know why that soldier was out on their own. He’ll never know what the fuck they were doing. He just knows- “I’ll be thankful for the rest of my life, though. It brought you back to me.”

“No,” Jay says, immediate, deliberate. “You brought me back.”

A half laugh; if not that, Jungwon would cry. “I had a lot of help.”

Jay’s eyelids grow heavy. Jungwon isn’t curious enough to check his watch and see how long they’ve been talking, but it seems like it’s been a while. Despite how tired Jay’s visibly becoming, he’s staring at Jungwon like he’s trying to memorize him. It robs Jungwon of anything to say. 

“Can’t believe you’re here,” Jay says, squeezing Jungwon’s hand. The pressure is just barely there, but just barely is more than Jungwon’s had in a long time, and it’s all he needs. The mass of emotions swamping him are testament to that. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Jungwon counters, running the thumb of his free hand beneath Jay’s eye. The older boy starts to drift off. “Never letting you go again.”

»

Bending at the waist to set the washing bowl on the floor is good cause for Jungwon’s head to spin, the last vestiges of the concussion announcing itself. He gets the ceramic safely placed on the tile before he has to shoot a hand out to steady himself on the side of Jay’s bed. Thankfully, he was already sitting down in the bedside chair, and it only takes a few seconds for him to blink the spots in his vision away. 

“What’s wrong?” Jay asks when Jungwon sits up again. Jungwon tries for a mollifying smile, but it tugs at his mouth wrong. 

“Nothing,” he says, petting a placating hand across Jay’s knee. He stands to drape the blankets back over Jay’s body. 

Wiping Jay down over the past few days hasn’t become any easier, though Jungwon wasn’t really expecting it to. Folding layers of covers down and pulling clothes away just reveals the evidence of his mistreatment, and that isn’t something Jungwon would even want to grow accustomed to. Viewing the whole act as something that will make Jay more comfortable makes it marginally bearable. 

Blankets secure around Jay once more, Jungwon sits sideways next to his hip and looks at him. Sweet boy. The bruising under his left eye has started to yellow. A good thing. A healing thing. 

Reaching forward slowly, Jungwon touches at the state of Jay’s hair. As he’s done every time Jungwon’s gotten particularly close since his return, Jay clocks every movement vigilantly, but says nothing. 

Jungwon leans back with a sigh. “Your hair- it’ll probably have to be cut off. Most of it.” It’s so unkempt that there’s likely no saving it. 

Jay is wholly unbothered, just watching him. There’s a pass of silence. 

Eventually, Jay bridges the gap. “Will you…?” 

Breath stuttering in his chest, Jungwon says, “Yes. I- yeah. Yeah, of course. Right now?”

Jay hums. So Jungwon starts to get up.

“I’ll go get-” 

Jay’s fingers clamp around his wrist, tight. Jungwon halts abruptly, making a concerned noise when the sudden strength it took for Jay to execute such a move clearly sent a jolt of pain through his arm- all of those muscles fragile and aching. The older’s grip loosens, but doesn’t withdraw. 

“Don’t get anyone else,” Jay pleads, pupils shaking. “Don’t- don’t let anyone else touch me. Please. I don’t want anyone to touch me. Just you.” 

Jungwon’s brain shuts down. 

It seems wildly unimportant to correct Jay in his intentions- he was only going to get supplies to cut his hair, not someone else to help him with the process- so Jungwon doesn’t go there. He just readjusts Jay’s handle on his wrist so that they’re holding hands, and then brings them to his lips for a brief moment.

“Okay,” he manages. “I promise, sweetheart. No one else.”

A wave of horror crests at the borders of Jungwon’s mind. It’s rolling in fast, but it’s not here yet, so Jungwon uses the time he has to readily accede Jay’s request before he can think too much about don’t let anyone else touch me. 

All at once, Jungwon realizes that no one outside of Sunoo- in a fleeting, strictly clinical manner- has touched him since he got back. It’s just been Jungwon. What Jungwon prematurely translated as Jay not being averse to anyone’s touch was meant for him alone. 

It speaks volumes- that inherent faith Jay has in Jungwon. That nothing has changed. That Jungwon will not hurt him. That Jungwon will keep him absolutely, invariably safe. 

Fuck. What an exquisite thing Jay’s trust is. What Jungwon will do to protect it. 

»

Sunoo said Sunghoon likely wasn’t contagious for more than four or five days, but Sunghoon still waited until day eight to come meet Jay. 

Jay’s awake and fully upright due to Jungwon arranging him that way this morning per his request. He’s been spending a lot of time sitting quietly. He looks at Jungwon a lot. Asks questions here and there. Observes the others around them with unsettling inscrutability. 

His features smooth out even further when Sunghoon arrives. An unfamiliar face to him, but he’s open to Sunghoon as he introduces himself nonetheless. Jungwon keeps his own smile stashed away in his heart, witnessing it all from his chair. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sunghoon says, hands in his pockets. He’s rocking on his heels a bit, an unassuming movement where he’s stationed past the foot of the bed. Noticeably, several feet away from Jay. Jungwon sees his calculated avoidance of encroaching on Jay’s space and appreciates it more than he could put into words. 

“And I, you,” Jay says. He’s smiling a little. The one he’s always sported when meeting new people. Kind. A little reserved. 

“That’s scary,” Sunghoon tuts, eyes cutting to Jungwon accusingly. It knocks a laugh free from Jungwon and a mere glimpse Jay’s way melds into- something else. Because when Jungwon looks at Jay, Jay’s already looking at him. Eyes trailing down the side of his face. Lips parted just slightly. And they’re ensnared, instantly, in each other’s orbit. Their souls pulling, pulling, until Jungwon breaks away from the planes of Jay’s face and his warm eyes and new, endearingly cropped hair and remembers Sunghoon, who’s-

Grinning. Jungwon scowls at him. Sunghoon pays that no heed, pointedly turning to Jay as Jay starts speaking to him. 

“Thank you for your work here. It seems you stepped in to help in many ways after your recovery.”

Sunghoon blanches as he fumbles to reply, evidently taken aback. “Oh- god, don’t thank me. What we’re doing is really important and I’m glad to be a part of it. I’m just-” his eyes flicker- “I’m grateful everyone took me in so willingly.”

A pang of sadness rushes through Jungwon at the older boy’s words. He can see that night in the woods all too well, right before everything went to shit and Jungwon’s world fell apart in the wake of Jay’s disappearance. When Jungwon looked over his shoulder and saw Sunghoon for the first time, his face bloodied from the slit in his eyebrow, not knowing that in the future he would consider him such a good friend. 

“It’s clear how much of a positive effect you’ve had on everyone here,” Sunghoon says. “I could tell right away, even though I hadn’t met you. They’re glad to have you back. Some-” his eyes darting over to Jungwon again, swimming with mirth now- “more than others, I think.”

That makes Jay huff out a laugh. Jungwon plays at scoffing indignantly, but he’s fine with the harmless goading. Anything that results in Jay making such a sound isn’t something Jungwon will find any fault in. 

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Sunghoon says, voice grave. Jay dips his chin in acknowledgement, shadows flitting in the corners of his eyes. 

“You understand,” he says faintly. Sunghoon came to them in the first place because he’s been through this too, after all. Sunghoon gives him a grim smile, and that’s that. 

As the conversation progresses on to lighter topics, Jay’s hand strays toward Jungwon’s. Before Jungwon truly recognizes it, Jay is rubbing a delicate thumb over his bandaged palm. Jungwon’s heart warms. And when he sees Sunghoon’s perceptive gaze and quirking mouth eyeing the motion, Jungwon doesn’t feel even an ounce of sheepishness. 

»

The highlight of day nine is little Sujin getting to meet Jay. 

Hypothermia’s stubborn grasp finally let go of Jungwon overnight, so quaking limbs and shallow breaths don’t hinder him in sweeping Sujin up with his good arm to stand on the chair beside Jay’s bed. She tips into Jungwon’s side at first, eyes lit up and smile shy as she takes in the man she’s clearly made into a famous figure in her mind. 

She overcomes the bashfulness quickly. Soon, she’s talking about her Markie and Yongie and showing Jay her fabric doll and her braids. Jay takes it all in stride, amusement at the forefront of every wondering croon he exchanges with her. 

And Jungwon watches. A little over a week ago he was very sure that he was soon going to have to start admitting to himself that Jay was gone. That he was dead . And now he’s… cracking jokes with this child who’s taken over all of their hearts. Here and breathing and smiling- fuck- and alive. 

Jungwon watches and watches. Smiles too, beside himself with all of this, in stunned awe of the sunshine Jay’s feeble body exudes with even the most minuscule of movements. He is life. 

And he reaches out again in the midst of painless, lively conversation, seeking Jungwon’s hand. Jungwon links their palms together as soundly as he can, and watches some more. 

»

Jay sleeps for most of day ten. The conversations with new faces from the previous two days hadn’t been all that strenuous, but Jay’s body is exhausted and impels him to crash nevertheless. Sunoo presumes that having to decrease the amount of pain medication Jay’s receiving could also be a factor; his body’s hurting as it’s healing and chooses rest over consciousness. Partway through the afternoon, Jake comes around and boots Jungwon out of his seat and tells him to go shower, eat, walk around. 

Jungwon only obeys one of those commands, and that’s to shower. Taking care of his hygiene was so beyond anything he could possibly care about the first couple days, but now, his skin crawls with the thought of not washing away the too-much he’s feeling at all times whenever he can. So he washes his hair, his body, his face. He doesn’t look too long in the mirror at the horrid array of bruising dispersed all over when he gets out. 

There’s a knock on the bedroom door as he’s toweling his hair dry. He’s using his good arm, but the shit one is still flaring up from all the movement in the shower, so he must be wincing when he pulls the door open because Niki’s eyes narrow at him. 

“You good?” Niki says after a beat. 

Jungwon nods, resting his hip against the doorframe, just to straighten right up when he thinks of Jay out of his immediate sight. “Everything okay?” 

Niki doesn’t point out the wavering in his voice, just tells him firmly, “Everything’s fine. He’s fine.”

“Okay,” Jungwon breathes, the recent spike of dread flushing through his system making him nauseous. “What’s up?” 

Niki shifts on his feet. “I want to talk to you about something. It’s not bad. Just important. And I don’t think you’d want to hear it anywhere but in private.”

Jungwon takes him in. Remembers How much have I missed? He swings the door open wider for him to come in. 

Jungwon sits on the edge of the bed. Jay’s side. Niki pulls the desk chair over and sits in front of him, elbows on his knees, ducking his head to run one hand through his hair. He seems to be gathering his thoughts. A droplet of water skates down the side of Jungwon’s neck. 

Niki raises his head and says, “I’m proud of you.”

A spell of silence. Niki seems disheartened by Jungwon’s lack of reaction.

“I am,” Niki says. “And I think you need to hear it.”

Jungwon stares at him vacantly. Some part of him reminds him to deny that; he begins to shake his head. Because what the fuck. What the fuck for? 

“I’m proud of you because you were brave,” Niki continues, and Jungwon’s breath hitches imperceptibly. It’s been ages since he affiliated that word with anything even remotely regarding himself. “Brave to not give up all those months. Brave to pick yourself up after every raid where he wasn’t there. Brave to follow that soldier with basically no weapons and no backup. It was a chance, and because you took it we got him back.”

Elbows digging harder into his knees, body pitching forward as his eyes flash with determined fervor, Niki reiterates, “And I know you need to hear this because I know you don’t believe it. You're telling yourself you’ve been a shit leader. A shit friend. I want you to listen to me instead when I say this. You were grieving. What you went through wasn’t just depression, it was- you had to decide to keep moving despite not knowing if he was even alive.”

Jungwon’s eyes have long since gone wide with incredulous vulnerability. Niki has seen him. It’s truly an insult to the younger boy’s character that Jungwon wasn’t expecting it. But… but he hadn’t thought anyone- 

“No one in this goddamn compound blames you for a bit of it. Not one person. And if someone does, they’ve got their own fucking problems going on that has nothing to do with you and you send them my way and I’ll fucking deal with it.”

Jungwon wishes he could smirk and poke fun at Niki’s vexation. The younger always swears more when he feels strongly about something. 

“I need-” Niki jerks his head, as if dismissing that approach- “I’d like you to work on not blaming yourself. You haven’t failed us and you haven’t failed yourself and you certainly haven’t failed Jay. He’s back here, safe and on the road to recovery because of what you did for him. Which is why I wanted to thank you in the first place. For being brave, and for insisting we raid right away instead of waiting for the weather to clear up. You were right. And I’m proud of you. We’re all very proud of you.”

The tears that come to Jungwon are a noiseless thing, and none actually fall. He looks down at his hands clasped in his lap and Niki does not interrupt the similarly soundless whirring in his mind. 

Putting the radically disarming admission that his dearest friends have apparently found no fault in his past behavior aside for the time being, Jungwon thinks about Niki. Niki, their youngest. About finding him in that godforsaken, uninhabited place, shivering against Sunoo’s slight frame in spite of the dreadful heat, all those years ago. About his childlike wonder and swift mastery of any skill or trade he’s put his mind to over the years since then. 

It was terrifying for Jungwon to make decisions for the three of them before they met any of the others, but the task was always especially daunting knowing it would directly impact Niki. Niki, who was barely more than a child back then, who was always a vital piece of every puzzle they tried to work out as they moved from ruined city to forgotten town to overgrown forest. Sunoo was obviously no less important, but it was just different with their youngest. It always has been. 

“I’ve always felt you’re my responsibility,” Jungwon tells him. “Your safety. Your wellbeing. Your contentment. Happiness.” His head is throbbing again. He waves a vague hand. “All of it. And I just… after we… lost him, I- well. I know I checked out. And I know you don’t blame me for any of it; you just said so. Though I don’t agree with it now, I think I may be able to in the future. My brain’s all fucking- fucked up. Can’t think straight and see-”

Niki hums understandingly at Jungwon’s gesture trying to depict the bigger picture. 

“I’m just sorry,” Jungwon says, feeling crushed, sounding splintered. He can’t bring himself to meet Niki’s searing eyes. “For all the times and ways you may have needed me that I wasn’t there for you.” 

Niki purses his lips, then clarifies, “You’re worried you didn’t do enough.” Not a question. Not at all. “For us. For me.”

Still not a question. Still, Jungwon nods. 

There’s a scrape of the chair against the floor as Niki drags himself closer. Their knees bump and it jostles Jungwon enough to make him glance up the little bit it takes to see the unimpressed, thoroughly distraught look on Niki’s face. 

“Well,” Niki starts, tone already lilting, veering toward what Jungwon knows is Niki’s favorite sort of gentle, teasing territory, “that’s just fucking silly, Wonwon.”

The combination of the contradictory softly spoken, blunt words and nickname from the earliest of early days- when Niki was still terribly small and sought comfort in the shelter of Jungwon’s person during frigid nights- makes Jungwon smile. 

Niki smiles too, his shoulders drooping. He thumps his knuckles against the inside of Jungwon’s thigh. Says, “Don’t worry about things like that. You’ve protected me all my life. You were a faultless leader for our trio back then. You kept us safe until we met the others, until we got to the city and then the compound and you’ve never stopped. Even this past year. Though your thoughts were on Jay, you were still making conscious choices trying to spare us from taking on too much. I saw you.”

Jungwon blinks. There’s that word again. His heart- it settles, oddly enough. Seen. It’s an interesting concept. It seems he has a lot of things he needs to reconsider. 

“You’ve never stopped, and you need to give yourself credit for how much you’ve done for our people. So it’s- it’s just- it’s my turn now. No I-owe-you bullshit, just… We’re so close, Jungwon. Closer than close. You’re one of the most important people in my life, and I want to look after you because you deserve it. Your value as our loved one is not influenced in any way by how you perform around here. That’s why we haven’t even recognised what you deem us needing to forgive as a grievance- because we love you and we want to help you get better. Both of you.” 

Jungwon promptly scooches forward and hugs him. Their youngest. His dear friend. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. Niki doesn’t shirk away from the sniffles echoing in his ear as he likely would in another scenario, just hugs him back. 

When they part, Jungwon runs the heel of his right hand under both eyes, grimacing at the way his skin comes away tacky with the wetness that had escaped at the corners. “I’m still sorry I shoved you.”

“You’re the one that got your ass landed in the snow,” Niki chuckles wryly. “You didn’t hurt me at all and I didn’t lie that night when I said I’d already forgiven you. Besides, I knew it wasn’t really about me at all.”

Jungwon musters the courage to ask what he's distantly wondered for a while now. 

“Nik,” he says to his knees. 

“Hm?”

“Does everyone know?” 

Niki looks at him. The way he angles his head indicates he knows what Jungwon’s talking about, but he gives no other response. Jungwon’s eyelids flutter once, begging to close, to be set free from this, because even after all this time, it’s hard to say it out loud. He’s never really said it out loud.

“Does everyone know I’m in love with him?”

Niki’s answering smile is small and not at all unkind. Crossing his arms over his chest, he says, “I think anyone who's paying attention could tell.”

Hearing it stated like that, Jungwon thinks it may have really scared him in the past. Before. It doesn't now. 

“I can’t help but think…” Jungwon tucks his hands under his thighs. “That… that there’s an after to all of this. For us. Do you think we could actually… have something? That he’d feel the same?”

Niki levels him with a Look. His voice is still incredibly gentle when he says, “We already talked about not entertaining silly doubts. And Jay not feeling the same way about you? You two not happening? That’s the silliest of them all, Wonwon.”

»

Jay begins trying to sit up on his own in short bursts of movement on the eleventh day. 

Jungwon allows him the room to figure it out. He’s close enough to stick his arm under Jay’s back if something starts going really sideways, but he understands letting Jay do things like this alone will help him not only build up his strength, but also take control back of these parts of his life. Jay’s self-reliance is arguably more profound than Jungwon’s. Jungwon knows just how detrimental it is to reassemble his confidence in his capability to do things for himself. 

So he stands nearby, keeping a wary eye out, but his hands off. Which must be how he catches it:

One of the medical trainees turns from the bed next to Jay’s, sees Jay struggling, and dives toward his arm and shoulder- to help. Jungwon knows full well the woman has no ill intent. But that is not true for Jay, who flinches away from her fast approaching, outstretched hands, and cries out a wounded sound like he’s been struck. 

Something piercing and red-hot snaps within Jungwon and he seizes the woman’s wrist, hissing, “Don’t touch him.” 

The woman’s eyes blow wide with shock and she gapes at him, their arms a line over Jay’s body. 

“I-” she sputters, and Jungwon should really feel worse for scaring her than he does, but Jay’s eyes are lifeless and his shoulders have shot up, stiff and locked in place by his ears, and- 

Jungwon guides her to walk to the end of the bed, then around it, leading her a few paces away toward the entrance of the medwing. He’d already let go of her but turns to her now, trying to center himself enough to make it apparent that he’s not angry, just-

“I’m sorry,” she says, more breath supporting her words now than before, which is a good sign. She seems a little shaken up, but more out of shame than anything else. “I know better than to make fast movements like that around patients. I truly am sorry, Jungwon.”

Jungwon starts at that. He looks at her, for real. She’s a full head shorter, several years older, and he’s seen her before but- he doesn’t know her name. She knows his. She knows he’s one of their leaders and once again, it drives home the blaring truth that of course their people know things about him. They know Jungwon’s name, they know Jay’s back, they just know about him, and Jungwon’s been scarcely functioning in a world where he felt he was entirely alienated from every pair of eyes and ears. He was alone in his grief, alone in the search, alone, alone, alone. 

Intentionally slackening his taut body language, Jungwon keeps his voice calm when he says, “I’m glad that’s understood. They’ve all been through hell. We just have to meet them where they’re at while they recover.”

She agrees sincerely. Jungwon doesn’t apologize for keeping her from touching Jay and doesn’t explain himself either. There’s no need to. Jay confided in him and asked him- practically pleaded- that he not let anyone touch him. So no one’s going to touch him. That’s it. She doesn’t need to know it, though. 

They part ways, the woman wishing them a good afternoon as she resumes tending to the other patients. 

Jay seems to have come back to himself a bit. A few minutes of space and breathing later, he gets his elbows beneath his upper body on the bed. 

“Trying again?” Jungwon asks. 

Jay looks over at him, eyes weary, and offers him a tiny nod. 

It takes minutes of effort and he heaves for breath like he just ran a few miles for several more minutes after, but he sits up on his own, bruised to hell body be damned, and the ecstasy on his face as he turns to share this triumph with Jungwon is everything. It’s everything. 

»

Jay’s feeding tube is removed on day twelve. They’re going to start him on soft foods first in ridiculously small portion sizes, a couple times a day. Work his stomach up to being able to handle solids in normal amounts again. 

There’s food on the plate set on the bed where Jay can reach it, and a water bottle half-concealed in the sheet beside that. Jay’s eyes flood with tears. He looks at it all for a long, long time. Says nothing, even as he starts to transfer bites to his mouth slowly, slowly. 

Food. Water. The freedom to consume it. Jungwon digs his fingers into the underside of his chair as he mulls over these necessities they so often take for granted. At the reverence Jay displayed at having these essentials of life freely given after surviving the opposite for so long. 

I swear to you, Jungwon tells Jay in his heart. I swear to you your suffering has ended. I promise to provide anything you need. Ample food. Clean water. Safe sleep. Peace. I swear. I swear. 

It’s a promise designed to appease himself as well. Mostly himself, actually, as Jay didn’t ask so Jungwon’s not telling him aloud. Jungwon knows it’s for himself. He scratches mechanically at the underbelly of the chair and does it anyway. 

»

“I’m going a little stir-crazy,” Jay tells Jungwon late in the afternoon of the thirteenth day. 

It’s understandable. Other than the trips to the bathroom he’s just started taking on his own (Jungwon lingering on high alert outside the door every time, worry tearing him to shreds as he envisions Jay falling, hurting himself, not being able to call for help in time) he’s done nothing at all but be in this bed. 

Even seeing where Jay is coming from, Jungwon is hesitant. Sunoo reassures him Jay will be fine as long as- and he emphasizes this- he’s honest. About when he’s starting to get tired. About when he needs to stop altogether. Jay accepts this easily. Jungwon is scared shitless, but tries to put on a neutral face as Jay works himself to the brink of the bed and slides off the mattress after wiggling into his shoes. He does it all by himself, then looks at Jungwon, soft and expectant and excited. Jungwon’s heart melts. 

He steps toward Jay, slow. Couldn’t ignore the momentum pulling him to the older if he tried. Reaches his hand up, slow. Cups Jay’s cheek. 

“You’ll tell me,” he says. This is the scared shitless part- that Jay could overwork himself in Jungwon’s care. “Promise?”

Jay nods, slow. His skin is cool and contused and alive under Jungwon’s palm. He’s swaying into the touch like he can’t get enough. 

“Promise,” Jay whispers back.

They walk. 

»

The following days are much the same. 

They work up to longer walks the more that Jay’s body adjusts to being up and moving for lengthened periods of time. The tenderness winding around the older’s torso makes any movement at all difficult, but Jungwon can see the icy determination etched on Jay’s face with every step they take. They keep their sides pressed together, and that somewhat tranquilizes the hollering in Jungwon’s head that Jay could collapse at any second. He’s close enough with his good arm looped gingerly around Jay’s waist to grab him if something goes awry. 

But Jay doesn’t fall or get sick or complain. They take lots of breaks during their little outings, and catch up on naps and small meals in between. On occasion, Jay talks a lot as they go, his comments rooted in disbelief that he’s here, with some questions woven in. Most of the time, though, he is completely silent. 

Sometimes, Jungwon thinks the older’s overwhelmed by the sights and sounds- everything he used to be used to but was deprived of until very recently now bombarding his senses all at once. Other times, Jungwon thinks the impassive slate of his appearance and the contrasting, distinct heaviness in his eyes point to a wresting wistfulness for the time he’ll never get back. And Jungwon can never fill that void for him. 

He’s thinking about that once when they’re in the ring. Jay had asked Jungwon to show him where all the facilities they’d found before his are located and Jungwon had pointed them all out, waiting until Jay actually prompted him to finally end with the one they’d found the older in. Jay had gone still then, staring at the miniature mark representing the place that housed his abuse for months on end. 

That had Jungwon staring at it too, wondering what the fuck they’re going to do. Wondering how he can help Jay heal when he doesn't even know all that Jay went through and never will no matter how much or little Jay wants to tell him in the future. How he’s supposed to try when he can’t even begin to sort through his own shit. 

Jungwon can’t fill the yawning chasm in Jay’s chest. He can’t put a salve over the torture that ripped a chunk out of Jay’s soul. He can’t fucking do anything, he can’t-

Jay’s hand settling on the back of his neck catches Jungwon off guard, but not in a bad way. They’re in the ring. Just the two of them. It’s late, and this is their last walk of the day, and Jay’s been back with him for over two invaluable weeks now. 

Jay is studying him, his thumb stroking a gentle, sloping path down the front of Jungwon’s throat. It’s- a lot. The touch being there, of all places. A touch that, with a little added force, could harm him. A touch that’s dizzyingly intimate instead, coming from the hand of its owner. 

They don’t ask each other if the other’s okay. It’s laid out in the way their interactions stop and start at the whim of their thoughts that yank them every which way every other minute that neither of them are. They just stand there together without saying anything at all. 

Jungwon thinks about what Niki said and holds Jay’s hand once it slides down from his neck and sort of feels like crying. He doesn’t. 

»

In the evening of day eighteen, Sunoo clears Jay to leave the medwing for good. He says Jay actually would’ve been fine if he were discharged before then, but having him there put Sunoo and Jungwon and all of their involved friends at ease as they kept an eye on him and his progress.

The reality is that Jay’s made a lot of said progress. Though his arms still host webs of mangled, burst blood vessels and the bruising around his midsection is still horrifying to look at and his cheekbones are still much too prominent, he’s been weaned off of pain mediation and doing alright without it and his food and water intake has increased and he’s able to move around with less and less help and a slight tint has come to life in his cheeks and there’s no point in keeping him under non stop watch any longer. 

Jungwon starts shaking halfway through the walk to their room. Jay has been transparent about how he can’t wait to shower- a true, full body one all by himself because Jungwon can’t imagine that frequent sponge baths done by another’s hand have been cutting it- and that’s surely what his focus is on right now. 

In all the walks they’ve gone on over the past few days to the eatery and common rooms and training hall and the ring, they never ventured over to their room. It seemed like an unbreachable wall that Jungwon wasn’t ready to take down and Jay never brought it up, so it’d been left alone. 

Now, Jay pushes the door open, a step ahead of Jungwon, and Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that his thoughts relocate to the hurt instead of the way everything is spiraling. 

Jay takes in their room without a word. He shuffles over and touches the bed, looks over the desk and chair, and goes to the dresser where he carefully picks out what clothes he wants for after his shower. Jungwon gets a hold of himself enough during that time to stuff his trembling hands deep in his pockets and implore Jay to be careful. A good couple days behind them or not, it’d take one misstep on the slick floor to set Jay’s headway back significantly. 

With Jay’s assurance that he’ll shout if he needs help, Jungwon is left to his own devices as the door shuts between them. Jungwon sinks onto the side of the bed, hands braced on his knees, eyes on the floor. Curiously enough, the panic doesn’t come in the way he’d anticipated. He thought he was staving off ragged breathing and tears in his eyes and the incessant shudders worsening, but instead, it shows itself like this: him stuck in place where he sits. 

His mind stumbles. Lists. Gets caught in the unknown. The doubt. 

Jay’s here. Home. The novelty hasn’t worn off. Will it ever? How many times did Jungwon enter this room without him? There’s so much Jay’s going to have to work through to recover, and Jungwon will never understand. Jungwon is not prepared for that. He’ll do anything he can for Jay, he knows that, but he doesn’t know much else. 

It feels like the inner workings of their world are shifting. Their people have been in this forest, living and working and sacrificing, for two years. Their time might be up soon. It might be up now. How much more is going to change? How is Jungwon going to protect Jay from any of it? 

Jungwon doesn’t trust himself anymore either, and maybe that’s the real reason behind all of this. If his instincts have been shot to shit, left to die in the winter storm on the way back from rescuing Jay- when Jungwon was losing his mind to the debilitating fear coursing through his veins that something would pop up in their path to wrestle Jay away from him before he even got him to safety- what does Jungwon have to offer? 

The bathroom door creaks open. Jungwon whips his head up, heart faltering because there’s no way, it’s only been a couple of seconds- but it hasn’t. Not judging by Jay’s damp hair, nor the specks of water dotting the shoulders of his shirt. Jay stops short in the doorway, blatant concern crossing over his expression. 

Silence swells. 

Then Jay’s moving forward, and Jungwon is hollow. 

Trying to appear relaxed, Jungwon rolls his shoulders back. They ache horribly, like they’ve been tensed up for ages. He goes to move his arm and finds both hands fisted in the baggy material of his pants. Christ. His fingers are rigid as he flexes them open and closed. 

Jay has almost made it to him. Fuck, Jungwon forgot the older was looking at him. Probably saw him do all of that shit. Not good. That won’t work in his favor. Not good at all. 

Jungwon puts a hand up between them and rasps, “I’m okay.” 

Jay is very quiet. Quiet as he regards him. Quiet as he circles his fingers around Jungwon’s wrist and urges Jungwon up, up to his feet, into an embrace. Oh, Jungwon thinks, barriers crumbling. This is the first time they’ve hugged- like, an actual, official one- since before Jay was captured. And Jungwon doesn’t even remember the last before that… not where or when it was. That makes him sag even further into Jay’s front, though he does have the wherewithal to keep from relinquishing a notable amount of his weight onto Jay. 

“‘M okay,” Jungwon repeats, but the words are slurred, hardly decipherable. Not convincing. Not good. 

“You forget how well I know your eyes,” Jay murmurs against his ear. Jungwon closes his eyes. It’s so good to hold him. To feel the rise and fall of his chest pressed up against Jungwon’s. “How well I know you.”

Jungwon exhales jaggedly, tension oozing out of him bit by bit, and he should’ve been confident in Jay’s ability to read him. No number of months apart could take that away.

They stay there, Jungwon’s hands latched onto the back of Jay’s shirt, Jay’s arms around him, until Jay tires and they sit on the bed facing each other. 

“Look,” Jay says, not exasperated, but solemn. “I haven’t really… This doesn’t feel real to me yet. Being back. Being… safe. It hasn’t registered yet and I haven’t processed all the shit that happened. There. Some parts are really muddled. Hazy, almost. But I do know that it was- so fucking traumatic.” He pauses to swallow, throat clicking. “And I also know that’s why you’re trying to be strong. For me.”

His hand glides along Jungwon’s jaw, ushering his head to tilt the way he wants, even though they’re already looking at each other, already close. 

“But,” Jay croaks, voice thick, “I can only imagine how it was for you, Jungwon. Here. Having no idea where I was. What happened. If I was alive or not.” 

The sob that bubbles up out of Jungwon startles him. Those memories of powerless distress stretch over him like a second skin, and he’s never parted from them. Not even with Jay’s return. Maybe he never will. 

Jay’s expression twists, changes, moves with Jungwon and his emotions. “I’m trying to say that you don’t have to act a certain way toward me. With me. You don’t have to suppress anything you’re feeling because you think I was worse off. You suffered too. Just differently.”

Confirming or denying any part of that is something they’ll have to tackle at a later time. Later. Later, later- we have that now. Jungwon cards his fingers through Jay’s short hair. Confesses, “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what to do.” 

It takes the wind out of him, admitting it.

“I don’t either,” Jay replies. “But we’ll figure it out. We’ll… we’ll heal.” 

The ghost of all the things Jay’s seen, all the things that were done to him, surges across his face. It’s Jungwon’s reminder that Jay’s carrying demons with every breath he takes, with every step toward bartering his strength back. Jungwon will do anything he can to help take on part of his struggles. To provide. To help him heal. 

“Together,” Jungwon says, strained. 

Jay’s eyes go glassy too. “Together.” 

Chapter Text

Despite Together, Jungwon continues to take on the night alone. 

Sleep hasn’t ever been kind to him. This was true in the rocky ruins of cities lost to time, then in the temporary refuge of whatever covering he could nestle up under after his mother was murdered, when he was nothing more than an untethered shell of a human, subconsciously searching for his purpose to continue on. After finding it in the plea in Sunoo’s eyes and the shaky grasp of Niki’s tiny hands, they spent their nights as hidden away as they could manage in sweltering heat and pelting rain and dreadful frost. Jungwon watched over them for the years they lived like that, the hard soil of the earth below him or the skeleton of disintegrated houses behind his back. 

Now sleep seems to have a vendetta against him. This was true, of course, when Jay was first taken, and during all the endless months that followed. Perhaps naively, Jungwon thought his complicated relationship with the stillness and silence of night would ease up with Jay’s returned presence. With a sickening, twisting flare, the dreams have worsened now. 

Jerking awake, Jungwon stares at the wall beyond the bed until the rush of horror crashing in his ears- making it impossible to hear anything other than Jay’s scream of sheer agony the fucking dream had planted in his sleep-adled mind- subsides enough for him to register his own labored breathing. He works on getting that under control before lifting the bed cover just enough so he can sit up without jostling Jay. 

The light coming from the crack in the bathroom door lilts over the left half of Jay’s face, the other slumped into his pillow. Jungwon internalizes the image until his heartbeat slows completely. And still, longer. 

Jay’s eyes slip away sometimes. His mouth will set in a straight line and he’ll be entirely removed from wherever they are. Sometimes certain things- sights, sounds, particular movements- cause it. Sometimes it doesn’t seem to have an origin at all.

Though he’s healing, and well at that, he’s hurting. His eyebrows will furrow in pained relapse and his breathing will pick up rapidly and he’ll wake, at times, with his eyes blown open with terror. The few times it’s been paired with panicked cries tearing out of his throat, displaced from their room, from Jungwon’s hands on his skin, could have put Jungwon in the grave. 

So much has changed. The bathroom light stays on indefinitely. Jay can sleep undisturbed and Jungwon needs to be able to see without any discrepancy that he’s there at any point in the night. 

Jungwon won’t add more to Jay’s shoulders. It’s not a decision he even feels he has to make; it’s a given. For tonight, he stares at Jay and does not go back to sleep, even once his eyes dry out, begging him to close them again. He can’t do that. The fear of never getting Jay back has shifted to the fear of losing him again now that he’s found him. 

»

“Sujinie, you have to eat.” 

Jungwon thinks Mark is going for stern, but it’s not going over very well in the face of Sujin’s crankiness. She’s terribly adorable even when inching closer to tantrum territory. Jungwon smiles to himself. Sujin doesn’t throw fits often, but when she does it’s a whole affair. 

Sujin shakes her head violently enough that some of her hair flops onto the table. 

“Jinie-”

“No!” 

“Why, honey?” 

Sujin gives no explanation, arms folded, with the crossest expression on her face. Across from Jungwon, and subsequently next to the little girl, Jay snorts out a laugh, then swallows it when Mark tosses him an unimpressed look. 

The reason for her stubbornness shows itself soon enough. Sunghoon walks into the eatery and Sujin lights up. She’s standing on the bench and launching herself at him in an ungraceful leap as soon as Sunghoon’s close enough to catch her. The table dissolves into laughter, Niki and Jake reaching over to poke at Mark and everyone adding in with harmless jabs. Despite Mark’s best efforts, of course Sujin wouldn’t start eating without Uncle Sunghoon, who has arguably become her favorite aside from Mark and Taeyong. 

Taeyong kisses Mark’s temple, which seems to be enough to break Mark’s facade. He smiles with a roll of his eyes and the table settles, getting back to eating. Sujin munches contentedly on her own portion right where she’s plopped down in Sunghoon’s lap. 

Jay’s still got the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth as he uses his fork to scoop up the last of his breakfast. He’s never been more beautiful. He’s doing well. Really well. Six weeks of rest- a large chunk of that time lending itself to literal sleeping- a meticulously planned out diet, low-stress environments, and plenty of walks have boosted his healing exponentially. 

The bruising beneath his eyes and across his cheekbones, along with the bruising at his inner elbows and midsection, has all largely faded. Jay has mentioned to Sunoo in their check ins that the areas, especially at his middle, are still pretty tender, but to the naked eye, he’s improved significantly. Sunoo is fairly certain Jay had some bruised ribs as well, but clearly, none of them were fractured and their frequent walks have seemed to keep his body from stiffening up and making the healing process more trying. 

Jungwon is so proud. So fulfilled, he’s bursting with it. Jay looks up at him mid-chew and his crooked half-grin makes Jungwon’s heart throb. 

Suddenly, something past Jungwon’s shoulder catches Jay’s attention. Everything about him stills. His face goes paper white. 

Hackles rising, Jungwon turns, searching for anything amiss. He ends up making eye contact with a man he recognizes as a persistent visitor in the medwing. The man’s standing with a plate in his hands, staring at their table, but as soon as Jungwon spots him, he leaves the eatery altogether. 

Confused, Jungwon looks back to check where Jay’s gaze is directed, but it definitely wasn’t the man who just left. No, it’s-

It’s a woman, standing a few tables away talking with those who are sitting down. Jungwon has only spoken to her a few times as she’s part of the team who makes all the meals and therefore is just behind the scenes a lot. She may have to take a step back from working if her pregnancy begins to give her any issues. Sunoo talked about her recently, actually, since she’s one of the few who are pregnant in the compound right now and her bouts of morning sickness have been pretty tame. Nothing seems off about her, or wrong. 

It doesn’t matter. Jay is shaking and looking like he might get sick. Jungwon gathers him up from his seat and walks him back to their room without trying to pull an explanation from him. The occurrences have lessened in the last two weeks, but this has happened several times already, so Jungwon just sits him down on their bed. Slips behind him so he can lean against the headboard, tugs Jay back against his chest, and squeezes him in a hug, hard. 

After the first time- when Jungwon felt like shit because he hadn’t known what to do- Jay suggested this, thinking it might help him feel grounded. They tried it the next time, and have resorted to it ever since. 

When Jay drops his head back to rest on Jungwon’s shoulder, his chest is moving more regularly and it’s been half an hour. He shifts on his own accord, but doesn’t move far. He just sits up enough to turn sideways, legs gathered under one of Jungwon’s, bent at the knee. He looks into Jungwon’s face, and Jungwon’s eyes sting at the pain he sees. 

Jay tells the story in fragments, of the girl he tried to save the night he was captured. He’d been about to leave the facility, but heard a crash from down the hallway that leads to the control room. A young woman had been trying to compress herself into a small hiding spot in the ruined space, obviously fixing to stay there until everyone left. 

“A shelf had fallen on her leg. She wasn’t crying. She didn’t want my help, but I got it off of her and told her we weren’t there to hurt her, or take her somewhere she didn’t want to go. She didn’t trust me, which I understood. But I couldn’t leave her. She… Jungwon, she reminded me of my sister.” 

Ah, Jungwon thinks. Jay isn’t looking at him, so Jungwon closes his eyes. 

Jay goes on. The walk back was horrible. Her leg was practically out of commission, but she wouldn’t let Jay within three feet of her. The soldiers came onto them quickly, out of nowhere. They had other outsiders with them, people Jay didn’t recognize from their own people, which clued Jay in that they weren’t from the facility they’d just come from at all. 

Fighting them off was pointless from the start, Jay recounts, like he’s talking about something far less gruesome. Jungwon starts to choke, glad, for once, that Jay seems too caught up in his memories to notice. 

Jay lost the knife Jungwon found- what, just minutes later?- to the tussle, and though he urged the woman to run, she didn’t get far before the soldiers caught her too. There was a blow to Jay’s head, and the next time he came to, he was in the cell. 

“They fed us just enough. Same with water. Kept us just clean enough to avoid illness. Same with the rooms. The blood draws- it felt like they were every couple days, but I had no way of knowing. The lights were always on, so I couldn’t measure the daytime from the night. The only escape was sleep.” 

Jay’s eyes are vacant. Jungwon digs his nails into his own biceps. 

Taking blood was the only process the soldiers were gentle with. Punishments for acting out or fighting back were severe. It was not uncommon for everyone in the hall to be dragged out to kneel before their doors as said punishments were doled out. It created a fear factor, and it was aggressively successful. Sometimes, in splurges of anger, the soldiers would go too far. Jay stopped counting how many innocents died like that, one too many hits or a few seconds too long of wiry hands around a neck. 

These moments in the hallway helped Jay realize the young woman was put in the cell across from his. Her eyes were always glued to the floor. She never made a sound. 

It went like this for an eternity. Jay tells Jungwon waiting was the worst part. Waiting for the next scraps of substance, or the next blood draw, or the next display of violence.  

Then, Jay woke from a sleep to the most horrid screams he’d ever heard. The most haunted, helpless sound. He got up, went to the window of his cell to try and see what was going on, but a passing soldier slammed his gun against the surface as a warning for Jay to back away from it. 

“So I… I went back to sleep.” Tears bead on Jay’s lashes, but don’t fall. 

What must’ve been weeks later, they were all forced out into the hallway once again. Jay looked at the woman and observed, as if apart from himself, that she was pregnant. 

“They’d raped her,” Jay rasps, something wet and sick getting stuck in his throat. “I had just realized they’d raped her, and then she- she looked up at me.” 

Jungwon’s face is damp as he takes in the way Jay clams up. He doesn’t describe the look on the woman’s face. He doesn’t really need to. 

“The next time I slept after that, I woke up to another commotion. A lot of shouting. I got up in time to see the door to her room wide open. There was a soldier in there with her, trying to subdue her. She took the gun from his hip and shot herself in the head.”

Jungwon puts a palm over his mouth, his brain buzzing. Jay’s tone was as stagnant and detached as it was full of pitless grief, and Jungwon fully, truly understands that this will always, always stick with Jay. There’s no moving on. There’s no leaving it behind. 

Jay turns his head. It’s so quiet that Jungwon hears his neck crick. The inhale Jay draws in sounds like death. 

“I didn’t even know her name,” Jay croaks. Then, he weeps. Jungwon curls around him, and the room is a very dark place for a long time. 

»

All of their friends are against it, and Jungwon knows why. That doesn’t mean he’s going to budge. 

Taeyong touches his shoulder. “Jungwon-”

“I know,” Jungwon cuts him off, his voice similarly low. “I know. But we’ll only be a minute’s walk away, and I’ll find a spot hidden in the trees.” Taeyong shifts his weight from one foot to the other, nervous. He doesn’t offer another rebuttal. Jungwon knows where he’s coming from. Jungwon knows the dangers of exposing themselves to the open first hand, very intimately, and even still- 

“He used to be on the tracking team. Before we got to the compound, we were only ever outside anyway and now he hasn’t been out there in a year.” The deep breath Jungwon takes shakes in and out of him. “He needs this.” 

Taeyong nods. He allows it, so the rest of the boys follow suit. Niki catches Jungwon’s arm as he goes back to their room to get Jay, telling him that if they’re not back in an hour and a half, they will send a search party out. Jungwon grips his hand and gives him a grim smile. It’s too honest a statement for Jungwon to try to make light of it. 

They’re nearing the end of February and it’s late in the evening. When Jungwon and Jay trek outside, it’s nearly too cold to bear. Hit with frigid wind, Jungwon almost proposes trying again another day, nevermind the blankets piled in their arms, but Jay breathes in deep, deep, and his shoulders loosen and Jungwon would move mountains to keep the flicker of peace he sees in the older right there. 

Hugged by prickly branches and tree trunks on all sides, they settle on a few blankets right at the last hill beyond the compound. Jungwon drapes a few more coverings tight around Jay’s shoulders- Jay stopped moving by his own volition once Jungwon walked him over here with hands under his elbows- and resolves to sit still himself and let Jay be. 

Most of the snow from the dwindling winter months has melted. The air is pure, bracing. Echoing with all the hours of their lives they’ve spent out here, and promising many more that they haven’t stumbled upon yet. Jungwon feels the itch to scramble, to fight for the chance to secure this. There’s nothing he can do at this moment, though. There’s hardly ever anything he can do. The reminder is as bitter as the chill. He stays put. 

Jay finally shifts around the hour mark. They need to return soon. A month and a half of recovery or not, Jay’s immune system is far too weak to be able to handle catching something like a head cold. 

Stretching his back out, Jay whispers, “Thank you.” He’s serene in the moonlight, the warmth of his eyes still caught on the view. The cut of his jaw taunts Jungwon. The steadfastness of his devotion to healing, and the nerve it takes to be consistent in it, drives Jungwon mad with pride, with hope. 

Jungwon isn’t sure if Jay thanked him for bringing him outside, or for something else. For finding him. For holding him. For remaining by his side. Perhaps it’s all of that, or none of it. Jungwon leans over in the quiet and kisses Jay’s cheek because the reason doesn’t matter. 

Jay is thankful. Jungwon is too. The frosty air coils around them, and Jungwon leaves it be. 

»

Jungwon wakes with his face squished against the map in the ring. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Jay isn’t next to him anymore. He must’ve gone to bed and not wanted to disturb Jungwon. Jungwon cringes at the thought that by now, Jay may have caught on that Jungwon has trouble falling back asleep after waking. 

He drags himself through the hallways to their room. He feels sluggish, hazy, like he’s treading through water. Maybe sleep will return to him quickly, just this once. Just this once. 

Close enough now, Jungwon can see that the door to their room is open. 

Open. 

There’s- no reason. No reason why it would be open. Unless- 

Jungwon’s heart cracks and sloshes all over the inside of his chest. Racing forward is futile because his head is spinning and the door crashing into the wall when he shoves it only reveals that Jay isn’t here. The covers are rumpled and halfway spilt onto the floor. A sound behind him gives way to a hand closing over his mouth. 

He’s dragged bodily from the room. Backwards down the hallways. Jungwon kicks his legs out, scratches in vain at the black material of the arms twined around him, his muffled screams going unheard. 

The scuffle ends and begins when he’s dumped on his knees in the grass just outside the compound, when his head is wrenched back so that he meets Jay’s eyes where the older’s detained in a mirroring position across from him. 

Jay.

Jay. His face, a marred array of yellows and purples and reds. No. No, no- that’s all wrong, all of those wounds have healed, he just got a little better, he just-

The soldiers find great joy in blotching canvases though, and have no qualms in causing suffering here. There’s a glint of steel, the light of dawn reflecting off the knife as it hurtles in an arc toward Jay’s middle. Into it. 

Jungwon won’t betray the older by looking away from him, so he remains, thrashing, his own death wrapping its hand around his neck, punching out of his throat- 

A hand behind his head, much gentler now, and a voice pressed to his left ear. Listen. Listen, it says. Jungwon listens. There’s a rattling sound, like wind gusting through one of the crumbling overpasses far beyond the forest. Jungwon traveled under one of those once, with his mom. Her matted hair was blowing behind her, her hand in Jungwon’s immovable. She’s not here now though. Jungwon’s pretty sure it’s not her. No… no, it’s- 

Open your eyes, the voice says. Baby, look. C’mon, look at me. Jungwon looks. A form takes shape next to him as adrenaline pulses through him, reattaching his arms and legs to his body. The touch makes sense when he recognizes it as Jay’s. Jay’s touch. Jay’s face. Jay’s voice. 

They’re both sitting up, Jay’s upper half twisted facing him, all flush together. He presses a hand flat to Jungwon’s sternum, applies enough pressure that Jungwon can feel his heartbeat pounding against it. It reminds him to take a proper breath. The rattling sound stops. 

Jungwon stares at Jay. There’s hardly any light in the space, only the faint spill coming in through that slit in the bathroom door, but Jungwon can still observe that Jay’s face is clear. Void of bruises and blood. He inhales sharply, breath catching, lips parting just for raw relief to rob him of anything he could possibly say. He’s okay. He’s alright. 

Jay cups his cheek, palm warm. Jungwon leans his head into it- just to be sure- and valiantly braves Jay’s face going soft and distressed at once for all of three seconds before pitching forward to fling his arms around Jay’s neck. He’s okay. Not hurt. Not gone. He’s alright. 

Jay pulls him closer without hesitation. Without effort, it seems. If Jungwon were in a different state of mind, he may have had to dwell on Jay’s obviously returning strength longer. For now, the lingering panic dispels with Jungwon sitting sideways in Jay’s lap, one of the older’s arms looped tight around the front of his waist, the other rubbing a trail up his back to his neck, squeezing, then dropping back down the length of his spine again. Again. And again.  

When Jungwon thinks he’ll be able to withhold Jay’s probable questioning, he soaks in one more moment of his forehead pressed to Jay’s collarbone, then shifts back so that Jay can see his face. Can see that he’s fine. 

Except he can’t quite meet Jay’s eyes, so he just looks at his mouth and then his bare shoulder where his shirt has slipped. Jay’s watching him. Jungwon doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, how he’s supposed to convince him, so he does his best to do nothing at all. Show nothing at all. 

The movement of Jay’s hand on his back stops, joining the other where it’s encased him around the waist. Jungwon never wants to move. He cannot stay here, lest he be found out. 

“You screamed,” Jay says. It’s clear it shook him up. Badly. 

Gutted, Jungwon says, “Sorry.” He is very sorry. The rest simply slips out. “Don’t usually make noise.” 

Instant regret strikes him like a slap. He clenches his eyes shut at the mistake, but that, of course, doesn’t mean he can’t feel how Jay seizes up. 

Their cocooned world is absolutely silent. Jungwon doesn’t have any clue what time it is. 

“How long?” Jay asks, voice scraping out of him. Jungwon does not answer. “You’ve been having dreams like that since I got back?” A weighted pause, one that takes on understanding. “Before that.” 

Jay has never truly needed verbal answers from Jungwon. He must read it in the tension Jungwon can feel in his face, in his silence. Nothing else happens for long enough that Jungwon opens his eyes to see what the older’s doing; his head is turned toward the wall like it holds the response he’s looking for. 

He mutters something to himself, and it was only meant for himself because Jungwon can’t make it out at first. He’d have to ponder on it, and he doesn’t have time to because Jay looks back at him and asks him if he needs anything in a soft voice. Jungwon turns his offers of water or otherwise down, and moves with Jay when the older lays them down once again. 

Jay closes his eyes immediately. If Jay doesn’t need verbal cues from Jungwon, Jungwon doesn’t need them from Jay either. Though they’re lying right next to each other and Jay didn’t physically turn his back on him, his hold on Jungwon is limp. 

A small piece of Jungwon wants to jump to conclusions regarding this- that Jay’s only touching him still out of obligation. Out of pity. Jungwon relinquishes the idea as soon as it comes. Jay is far too good for such things. He looks after others wholly, completely, selflessly. Even if he has been hurt. 

And Jungwon has hurt him with this. Jungwon literally admitted he’s been handling these troubles alone to Jay’s face. He’d felt the way Jay reacted. The silence. The tentative questioning in the wake of- 

Of a broken promise. 

Jungwon waits until he’s positive the older has fallen back asleep to let himself cry about what he’d finally realized Jay had said to himself: “Together.” 

»

At an acceptable time to rise, Jungwon slinks into the bathroom to shower. When he emerges, Jay has left the room. 

The thought of breakfast makes Jungwon’s stomach churn, as does the probability of their friends catching on if things are icy between them. Feeling properly ill, Jungwon stands for a long while, aimlessly, in the middle of their room, soaking wet hair dripping to the floor. 

When he’s able to move, he changes into clothes he hasn’t worn in six weeks. Jackets. Layered pants. Boots. He’s restless. He has to- move. Go do something. Maybe when he returns from tracking he’ll know what to say to Jay. Not an excuse, but an explanation. That’s what Jay deserves. 

He goes to the ring to wait for the rest of the team to finish up breakfast, and is still standing there by the map when Jay appears amongst them in the hallway beyond. Everyone is acting as per usual, except perhaps Heeseung and Jake, who are glancing between he and Jay and the space separating them with no subtlety whatsoever. 

Jungwon may be running for the day, but he won’t run from Jay. Not after all the shit they’ve already been through. So, he closes the chasm between them. Everyone else fades out, but that usually happens when Jungwon approaches the older. Jay doesn’t seem to be running from him either; his eyes are unmoving from Jungwon’s person. Not overly warm, but posture open and relaxed with his hands in his pockets all the same. 

“I’m…” Jungwon gulps dryly, feeling like a fool. “I’ll go with them for the day.” 

Jay’s jaw shifts. He dips his chin, just once. “Alright.” 

His gaze flicks up to the top of Jungwon’s head and his eyebrows pull together slightly. Jungwon isn’t really sure why, and he doesn’t give it any thought either because Jay is so gorgeous and Jungwon loves him. He wants nothing more than for Jay to feel comfortable, to feel safe, always, and Jungwon leaving today will make this the first they’ve been apart since Jay returned. Jungwon can’t imagine how it must feel for Jay… but he can guess it may be like being left behind. 

Spluttering a little, he asks, “Will you be okay?” 

Jay gives him a long look, like he didn’t expect Jungwon to ask. It breaks Jungwon’s fucking heart. 

Finally, Jay nods again. Jungwon holds eye contact a few breaths more, then lowers his head, sniffing. All of this has spurred on the threat of tears. The distance will be good, maybe. Good for Jungwon to get it together, so he can make this right later tonight. 

The tracking team exits the ring and Jungwon doesn’t look back at Jay as he files out behind them. He moves and he doesn’t think. He moves and lets the regret burn, lets it all hurt, lets it build, until it explodes, stopping his feet before the main entrance. 

Jake turns from where he’d been walking in front of him, taking Jungwon in like he knew this would happen. Maybe he did. The metal stairs leading outside are right there, and Jungwon can’t climb them. Not today. 

“I can’t leave like this,” Jungwon breathes. He takes a step back, one step closer to his heart. With more conviction, he repeats, “I can’t leave like this.” 

Jungwon swears Jake’s eyes are twinkling. “Go.” 

Jungwon goes. He starts running, as it feels that’s the only thing he should do. Any second where Jay is upset is not one he’s inclined to let happen with no urgency to rectify it. He has no idea what he’s going to say, but it doesn’t matter. He’s sorry, and he’ll try to do better to open up to Jay, and they’ll talk things out. It will work out. It will. It- 

The door to their room rips open just as Jungwon reaches for the handle. Both he and Jay freeze, gawking at each other. Instantaneously, the clamor in Jungwon’s head dies down. His haste leaves him. There is just this: them, and the opportunity to clear the air. Jungwon will take it. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Jay, I’m so sorry.” 

Jay doesn’t move even an inch.

“I’ve been- I’ve been struggling with sleeping. Nights overall are pretty shit, and it’s been that way since you were taken. I couldn’t get it under control then and I didn’t care to. When we got you back, I thought it’d get better, but it hasn’t. I decided that it wasn’t your problem to carry. That good sleep is critical to your recovery and I shouldn’t interrupt it.”

Jay’s expression isn’t blank anymore. The tip of his nose is red and his eyes are getting watery. 

“But that wasn’t my choice to make,” Jungwon understands now. “Or, I shouldn’t have made it alone, at least. We made a promise to each other to heal, and to achieve that together. I took that away from you. If it were reversed, I- I would’ve been so pissed off at you.” Voice breaking, he adds, “I’d be so heartbroken. If you were hiding it from me just because you didn’t want to add to what I’m working through. I want to help you. It… it was horrible of me to think you wouldn't want the same. I’m sorry.” 

A beat. 

Eyes flooded with tears, Jay takes a slow step forward to close his hand around Jungwon’s wrist. He pulls him into the room, gently, out of the way of the door, just so he can push it closed and guide Jungwon to lean against it. 

Shuddering, beside himself, Jungwon exhales, “Jay-” 

“Your hair’s wet.” 

What. “Huh?” 

“Your hair, Wonie. It’s still wet,” Jay says, soft and patient, still thick with emotion. 

Jay’s holding a hand towel. Jungwon notices this just as Jay reaches up to support one side of his head with one hand so he can dry the other side with the towel. Jungwon, at a loss, lets him. 

Jay works around his whole head, the fabric scratching against his scalp delicately. It would put Jungwon to sleep if he weren’t a live wire, waiting for more of Jay’s response. 

It goes on for so long that Jungwon is almost positive his hair is no longer even damp, and that’s about when a single, cracking sob erupts from Jay and his hands fall to Jungwon’s shoulders. A few tears glide down his cheeks all at once, like he’s been keeping them at bay a long while and the dam finally burst. Alarmed, Jungwon lifts shaking fingers to dry his face. Another heart wrenching noise, then Jay twisting under Jungwon’s hand, Jay’s lips pressed to his palm, to the inner skin of his wrist. 

“Idiot,” Jay huffs, but everything about him is gray and it sounds more like a whimper than anything. “You’d get sick going out in the cold like that.” 

Fuck. What the fuck, Jungwon thinks incredulously, and hugs him. Jay clutches at him so hard in turn that Jungwon’s shoulder blades knock back into the door with a thump. 

“Jungwon,” Jay whispers, admonishing and pleading alike. Jungwon hooks his elbow around Jay’s neck, tugging him in tighter, an anchor. “Jungwon, you can’t do that. Please , don’t do that to me. You’ve gotta let me in. Just tell me when you’re having a hard time and we’ll- we’ll figure it out. It’s not going to be too much for me- it never could be. It’s- Jungwon, it’s you. It could never be too much.” 

“Okay,” Jungwon whispers back, smoothing over Jay’s hair. “Okay, Jay. I swear. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Jay says as they move to the bed. “Even last night, I didn’t try to fix it. Then I left the room without saying anything to you this morning. Without waiting for you. And I- I noticed your hair in the ring and I should’ve just fucking said something then, but I-” 

“Stop.” Jungwon dusts his knuckle against Jay’s jaw. “It’s okay. We both weren’t doing well and we dealt with it how we shouldn’t. We’ve worked it out. We’re good.” Jay’s chin quivers. “I’m good, Jay.” 

The older seems unconvinced, almost brooding. Jungwon laughs so brightly he surprises himself. “Cut it out. Lighten up or I’m going to fucking tackle you.” 

With a rustle, Jay lunges. Jungwon finds himself on his back the next second, then hauled over so his head’s on Jay’s chest the second after that. 

“That’s not a threat,” Jay tells him. Warmth blooms like the sun in Jungwon’s chest. 

“Why are we laying down?” 

Jay draws a nonsensical pattern onto Jungwon’s shoulder. “Am I right in assuming you didn’t go back to sleep last night?” 

This is where Jungwon would've stayed silent before. So, he admits, “Yeah.” 

“Nap time, then.” Jay executes a show of making himself comfortable before cursing and jumping up to turn off the lights.

“Jay,” Jungwon says a few minutes later. 

“Hm?” 

“It will be a long process, I think. Getting back to a normal sleep schedule.” Nearly joking, he says, “Sleep is not my friend.” 

Humming, Jay shuffles him closer. “Rest can learn to be.” 

»

The day Jungwon doesn’t go with the tracking team turns into a three day expedition. During those days, Jungwon spends a lot of time sleeping and the rest of it watching Jay, not caring all that much when he gets caught. 

Upon their return, their friends go on and on about a new discovery. In a jumble of excited words overlapping each other, they explain to Jungwon, Jay, Taeyong and Sunoo that in the mess of hills south of them- where they’d previously not spent a lot of time exploring- one of the inconspicuous bends slopes downward into a ravine. The crack in the earth goes on about half a mile, rock and hardened dirt on both sides and a meager creek underfoot, and then opens up to an entire new section of the forest. They found a facility a day and a half ago. 

Their motivation is contagious. A new area to explore is that many more people they can potentially save. More people who might be able to get their life back. Curate a new one for themselves. Survive a little longer. Carry on. 

It’s their life’s work, and Jungwon has been away too long. He takes in the jitter in Jake’s hands, the slant to Niki’s eyebrows. Sunghoon’s set jaw, Heeseung’s dark eyes, Mark’s grave nod to Taeyong. It’s time Jungwon returns. 

Jungwon circles his fingers around Jay’s wrist. The older is standing just behind him, their shoulders brushing, and at the light touch Jay moves even closer.
“I know,” Jay whispers. 

Once the raiders have gathered and then dispersed, hurrying all over to prepare to depart, Jay follows Jungwon to their room. Jungwon goes into the bathroom to change, pulling a few extra layers on. He nearly startles at the fire he sees in his eyes in the mirror; it hasn’t been present in a while. Shaking his arms out, he pulls the bathroom door open. 

Jay is standing in front of the dresser, his back to Jungwon. He’s as still as stone. Jungwon waits for a moment, but Jay doesn’t move. He’s breathing shallowly, Jungwon realizes, going over to him. 

With care, he grazes his hand down Jay’s bare arm. I’m here, the touch says. We’re both here. 

Jay’s eyes, when he turns them toward Jungwon, say, For now. Jungwon will go. Jay will stay. The older boy is plainly, acutely horrified by this. He’s trembling. His eyes are glossy. Jungwon wraps him up in a hug because there is nothing to say. 

Jungwon racing out into the late evening puts a target directly on his back. It must be nauseating for Jay to even imagine, let alone to let Jungwon go knowing full well he won’t be there by his side. 

Jungwon lets Jay take what he needs to. It comes in the form of Jay finally pulling away from their embrace just so he can worry over things like zipping up Jungwon’s jacket and squatting down to check his shoelaces. Rising back up to cradle Jungwon’s elbows and then run his hands over his shoulders toward his neck. Inexplicably tucking the hair behind both of Jungwon’s ears. Hands vibrating, reverent, methodical. 

Jungwon can’t stop staring at him, his mouth slightly parted. Jay doesn’t meet his eyes for a second, his throat bobbing. 

“Where are-” his voice dips, stunted with emotion. He coughs gruffly to clear it. “The gloves?” 

Jungwon goes to fish them out of the bedside table. Jay’s face is ashen. Jungwon doesn’t think now is an appropriate time to tell him the reason they were hidden away was because he eventually couldn’t stand the reminder of them while Jay was still missing. 

Just the same as so many times before, Jungwon raises his hands so Jay can fit the gloves over them. The older boy is dragging the motions out, trying to make this last. Jungwon sways, feeling like his soul is splitting, one part of him taking off into the woods and the other hovering here with his love. Clinging on. 

Jay’s movements halt. “Be careful.” 

Jungwon’s eyes prick. “I will.” 

»

Being apart from Jay cuts into Jungwon like a physical wound. He’s been nursing it since they let go of each other’s hands at the compound’s entrance, Jay’s touch shifting from his palm to hang on to his fingers as long as he possibly could. Jungwon had turned at the top of the stairs to take Jay in once more, and the older looked nothing short of devastated. 

It numbed Jungwon out. He doesn’t really feel like he clicks back into his body until several miles into their journey, far past the ravine and far into the terrain becoming taxing enough that he has to focus on the rhythm of his inhales and exhales. 

They come upon a hill, everyone starting the climb upwards together. Jungwon can hear the heavy breathing from the raiders around him due to the swift speed they’ve been moving at, but can’t see much of anything due to the last of the day’s light, and can’t feel anything other than the discomfort in his lungs and the aching in his thighs. 

Reaching the top, Jungwon raises his head. The dim sight before him makes his heart squeeze so hard that he stops dead in his tracks. It looks identical to where Jay was taken. Honestly, it’s not a wild concept, given that the real place is in a wooded area just like this. But the patch of clear land surrounded by broad trees, the flat land unfurled before him as far as he can see following the expanse of the hill behind them- it’s all the same. 

It knocks a memory loose inside of Jungwon, from that night over a year ago. When Jay was unaccounted for; already gone. When Jungwon was sprinting around the compound and then outside toward the facility they’d just fled, arms and legs pumping, body crying out beyond the pain in an early onset of dread. He remembers what he’d realized he ought to do when he found Jay: tell him. 

Their time is fleeting and unpredictable. Maybe it’s not even theirs. Jungwon had thought then, before cresting that last hill and finding Jay’s knife in the bloody dirt, that because of this, he shouldn’t waste any more opportunities. When he found Jay, he’d have the courage to- to do something. 

Then, he’d forgotten. Grief had taken so much from him, the memory of that train of thought included. 

Someone runs into his back. 

“Shit, sorry.” It’s Sunghoon, doing a double take when he sees it’s Jungwon. “You good?” 

Jungwon feels like he’s been dunked under water. He feels alive, alert, flushed warm and blisteringly cold all at once. Hollowed out in the chest with an inclination unfinished hanging over his head. 

Still, he nods to his friend. Good? He will be, once he gets back to Jay. 

So get back to him, a nudge in his heart says. Just get back to him. 

He and Sunghoon start moving again. Jungwon picks up the pace, hands still and sure, mind set. 

»

The night ticks on, and despite the yearning trying to wrest his focus away, Jungwon remains committed to those they’re saving once they successfully attack the facility. If anything, it makes his moves sharper, his eyes keener. His voice is clearer as he directs those who seem particularly afraid. 

As far as raids go, it’s blessedly one of the easier ones in regard to how many soldiers Jungwon engages in actual combat with. Especially compared to his last, and all the challenges he met before discovering Jay in the last hall, it feels like they’re on their way back in record time. 

The hours slip. Jungwon hurries along, growing more and more tired, but diligently keeping his eyes on their surroundings and his hands around the shoulders of anyone who needs help from time to time. Hills and bends and trees and darkness, the chilly bite of fresh March seeping into his clothes. 

The closer they get back to the compound, the more Jungwon feels tormented with impatience, with longing. He’s remained near the back of the mass of people on purpose, so that he can see this job through first, before giving in to himself. The ravine poses to be a significant enough obstacle for the injured that it calls for Jungwon’s full attention. Once everyone is clear of it, it’s like the sky opening up to the sun on a stormy day. Like a boulder being lifted from Jungwon’s shoulders. 

It’s practically a straight shot back to home. Not literally- there are still plenty of areas of foliage that need to be avoided or worked around- but in the sense that the difficult ridges give way to decently flat land. It’s just distance left. 

The distance wanes too, until there’s nothing left at all but the compound door shooting up from the earth and Jungwon’s heartbeat in his throat. He glances back to ensure the small group behind him are faring alright and don’t need any additional help, then allows himself to break into a run for the very last horrible, wonderful bit. 

There’s no one in front of him, at least not close enough to hinder how quickly he bounds down the stairs. A sudden, strangled noise makes Jungwon look up, and he almost misses the next step. Jay is standing at the bottom, his gaze blowing wide as their eyes meet. Waiting for him. Exactly where they parted. 

Jungwon surges down the last half of the stairs with a renewed gush of energy, a sob bubbling up in his throat. Jay meets him, catches him when Jungwon all but throws himself forward, arms wrapping around his neck. Jay crushes him impossibly close to his front, dragging Jungwon away from the last stair before the younger can even clear it, stepping toward the wall and out of the way whilst holding him up off the ground. 

Jay babbles as Jungwon sucks in gasping breaths, exhausted and cold and so fucking relieved that Jay’s here, Jay’s okay-

“You’re okay,” Jay’s saying. “Fuck, you’re okay. You okay?” He jerks his neck back to check Jungwon’s face, but dives back in just as quickly. His lips are scalding against Jungwon’s cheek, the press of the kiss brief and overflowing. Jungwon starts to cry in earnest. Jay’s hand comes up to the base of his skull, cramming his face into Jay’s neck as he sets Jungwon back on his feet. 

“Shh, Won. Jesus. Fuck, that was the worst. That sucked. Was so hard to be away from you, didn’t know if you were safe-” 

“Jay.” 

There must be something in the waver of Jungwon’s voice, the utmost seriousness, that makes Jay pause. He’s motionless for a moment before shuffling back to look Jungwon in the face again. The sweet, concerned dash of his eyebrows- it’s enough. It’s everything. Jungwon would give his life for this, for him. 

“Jay,” Jungwon repeats, sodden with adoration. 

Jay ducks down a little, closing the bit of height he’s got on Jungwon so they’re level with each other. “What, baby?” he murmurs, hands braced behind Jungwon’s back, and it breaks Jungwon. He reaches, hands shaking, to cup Jay’s face. 

“Jay-” and he tilts his head and slots their mouths together. 

Jay responds instantly, like he’s not all that shocked, like he’s been waiting and waiting for this forever. Maybe he has. Jungwon has. Jay’s breath rushing out of him through his nose is the crack of a gunshot and his hands on Jungwon’s back switch to his arms swooping around his waist, urging him closer, up, up-

Kissing Jay is a novelty, a new branch of their shared history. Jungwon is untamed, at the mercy of Jay’s mouth against his, and he realizes he never needed permission for this. Jay answering him like this tells him he’s had it all along. 

Suddenly overcome, Jungwon’s chest hitches and he parts with Jay to knock his forehead against the older’s chest. He’s still sort of crying and Jay shushes him gently again, tipping his face up to skate his lips under each of Jungwon’s eyes. 

Those three fateful words hang between them, not unsaid in the slightest. They seem to be of the same understanding that they’d rather exchange them for the first time somewhere a little more private. Jay holds Jungwon to his front all soft like, as if Jungwon’s something priceless. 

Jungwon presses another kiss to Jay’s mouth, then another. I love you. I love you. Then he laughs, wet and full and uncontrolled because the natural newness of their coming together is unbelievable. That crooked grin splitting across Jay’s face is blinding.  

“We should go check on our friends,” Jungwon says. “Help out if we can.” 

Jay nods, holding Jungwon’s hips with loose hands. Unassuming indeed, but it still makes Jungwon shiver. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Jay checks. “Not hurt at all?” 

“I’m good,” Jungwon reassures him. He hadn’t even met a knife’s edge tonight. “Knee got aggravated a bit with the walking, but it’s nothing to worry about.” 

Jay glares at him. “Nothing to worry about, my ass,” he grumbles, promptly sneaking an arm under Jungwon’s legs and hoisting him up to settle him against his chest. Jungwon gives a very dignified squawk and puts up enough of a fuss that Jay eventually puts him down halfway through the walk to the medwing. Jay catches Jungwon’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and kisses him, which dismisses Jungwon’s play at annoyance. Jungwon shoots him a soft smile, locking their fingers together. 

They stay a good while in the medwing helping the newcomers. All of their friends who’d similarly been out on the raid are mostly unscathed, if not completely fine. Jay and Jungwon stick around until there isn’t much left to do. Sunoo waves them off with a quirk to his mouth, probably having caught on to the way Jungwon and Jay have been stuck in each other’s orbit, never too far from one another, since they got back. 

The intimacy that’s heavy in their room when they return to it is easy and timeless. Lovely in a way that there’s no pressure. Jungwon is again astounded by how innate it is to lean into Jay, to touch him. 

Worried about Jungwon getting to sleep, Jay directs Jungwon toward the shower. Conceding, Jungwon tries to sidestep him- they’ve been standing in the middle of the room hugging since they got here- to grab a change of clothes. 

“I’ll get them for you,” Jay stops him, fingers slack around Jungwon’s upper arm. Jungwon looks into his face, captivated by his attentiveness. Jay pushes him into the bathroom. 

Once Jungwon’s finished showering, he pulls on the clothes Jay placed on the counter for him. Though he should be tired, energy is rolling off of him. He can feel it.  

He pulls the bathroom door open. Beelines to Jay, sitting on the edge of the bed, to stand between his legs. Hands on Jay’s shoulders, he trusts Jay to keep him stable while he leans into him and kisses him, full and unhurried. Jay looks dazed when Jungwon pulls away. He’s agelessly beautiful, and Jungwon will always feel the way he does about him at this moment. 

“Jay,” he murmurs. Jay closes his eyes. His eyebrows pull together, face scrunching up just slightly the way it does when he’s about to cry. He nods. He knows; it’s the same for him. Jungwon says it anyway. 

“I love you.” 

The noise Jay barks out is precious, a sob melded into a laugh. Precious and a little silly. Jungwon loves him so much. 

“I love you so much,” Jay blubbers. Jungwon does start laughing then, so ecstatic he can’t do anything but crash into the older, taking them down to the bed together. 

Once Jay gets a hold of himself, he asks Jungwon, positively glowing, “When? When’d you know?” 

“You go first,” Jungwon requests softly, brushing the curtain of hair out of Jay’s eyes.

“It was the morning after we met.” 

Jungwon gapes at him, even as the start of a smile creeps onto his lips. “Liar. That early?” 

Jungwon had been up most of the night, but dozed a bit as dawn came. Of course, that’s exactly when the boy who helped him yesterday decided to steal away. The last time Jungwon saw him, he was sleeping soundly by the fire just a few paces away. Cheek propped on a furled fist. Mouth open. He’d looked ridiculous and there was no way he’d been comfortable. Regardless, he’s gone now. 

Jungwon rises. It’s not worry prickling at his skin, but curiosity. It’s enough to have him leaving the tarp-covered area they’ve claimed as their own. He picks his way through winding walkways cluttered with debris and waste, heading for the area where the market stalls are set up for a few hours a couple days a week. 

Sure enough, he finds the boy there. Jay. It’s early enough in the morning that no one’s out yet. Just him. Jungwon had gathered from the day before that Jay is very capable in his knife throwing skills, but it’s nice to observe him practicing from a far without the gloved hand of an irate soldier strangling him. 

Jungwon watches until Jay has released all the weapons he has in his possession and gone to retrieve them from the post they’re sunk in at varying heights. Out of the dozen or so, only two didn’t stick, dropping to the dusty ground. Impressive. Jay spots Jungwon as he’s walking back, stuttering in his movements for only a moment before beaming at him. 

“Hi,” Jay says. His voice is bright despite what time it is. Jungwon stays quiet, but doesn’t look away from him. It seems Jay is watching him right back, contemplating something. He extends his hand, holding a knife out toward Jungwon, the sharp edge concealed against the skin of his own palm. 

“Wanna try?” 

Jungwon goes to him without a word, finally looking away from him because up close, his eyes are warmer and prettier and his grin is a little too beautiful. What the fuck. When Jay passes the knife off to him, Jungwon is mindful of not letting their skin touch. 

“Okay,” Jay starts. He seems like the type to carry conversation. “You done this before?” 

Jungwon glances at him. “Thrown knives?” 

“Yeah!” Downright fucking cheery. Jungwon wonders why Jay’s enthusiasm doesn't piss him off. He did save Jungwon’s life yesterday. That’s probably it. 

“I have.”

“Cool. Are you any good?”

Jungwon resists shrugging a shoulder. “I’m alright.” 

“Hm. Let’s see it, then! Aim for-” he points with his free hand- “that same post.” 

Rearing back, Jungwon lets it fly. It burrows in the direct middle of the post, perfectly centered to both the height and width. Right where Jungwon was aiming for. He silently releases the rest of his pent up breath, glad, for some reason, that it played out this way in front of this boy. 

The shock on Jay’s face is unparalleled. Jungwon can’t help it; he smiles. 

“When you smiled like that after the whole nonchalant thing?” Jay tsks. “Knew it was over for me.” 

Jungwon flushes. He pinches Jay’s side. “You’re such a softie.” 

Jay doesn’t even deny it, lounging back against the headboard, taking their interlocked hands with him. Jungwon does not look at the circle of the older’s legs sprawled out on the mattress. 

“What about you?” Jay asks. 

Jungwon tells him. It wasn’t during a specific moment, but because of one. They had a scare in the city a few months after Jay joined them, when Unification had caught wind of the area being a prime spot to capture outsiders. Fear was blazing through every makeshift camp in the rubble heart of the city, and one night, Jay was late for curfew. 

Ice slices through Jungwon’s chest. “What do you mean?” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound like his own. 

Taeyong stands before him, poised like he thinks Jungwon’s going to make a run for it. Like he’s carefully considering what to say. Jungwon doesn't have time for that. 

“What the fuck do you mean, he hasn’t come back?” 

They’re all looking at him. Niki, Sunoo, Jake, Heeseung. Even Mark, who’s been battling a nasty cold for five days now, rises up on his elbows from where he’s been lying down to stare concernedly. The tent flap covering the entrance to their space hits Jungwon in the back as the wind picks up. It’s June, and monsoon season is upon them. Uncomfortably warm rain splatters the nape of Jungwon's neck, and there’s no way in hell Jungwon is leaving Jay out there alone in this. 

He makes a run for it. 

The shouts of his friends are folded away into the wind whipping in his ears. Jungwon climbs up, skittering along the holdings he’s used countless times to get to a better vantage point. The skies are harsher here. 

Jungwon finds him, unharmed and oblivious, squatting on one of the rooftops they frequent. He’s staring out in the distance, presumably at a group of Uni soldiers below. A cry of relief that rivals that of the wind is struck from Jungwon’s gut. He is angrier than the brutal storm itself. 

Jay whirls around at the sound of Jungwon’s footsteps right as Jungwon reaches him in a low crouch. 

“Won-?”

“Get the fuck away from there,” Jungwon spits, yanking Jay away from the low outer wall of the rooftop. It’s getting dark out but he’s virtually in plain sight. “What are you doing? Do you know what time it is?!” 

Jay’s wide, stunned eyes pinch with guilt as he catches on. He looks to the sky, a useless check in with the obscured sun. “Wonie, I’m sorry. I got caught up watching them down there.” 

Jungwon wants to hurl the words Jay always preaches to their people all over this godforsaken city about paying attention to your surroundings and to when nightfall is coming back at him. More people go missing every night, exhaustion leading to sleep that allows soldiers to seek individuals out and snatch them away with ease. Jungwon wants to say all of that, or shout at him, or punch him, but the only thing that comes out is the poorly disguised startup of frightened crying. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jay says remorsefully, hand on Jungwon’s thigh. There’s dirt streaked on his cheek, and who fucking knows how he managed to get it there while he was tramping around today. They’re both kneeling on the hard surface of the rooftop and the rain lashes into their faces, as hot and suffocating as sand. Jungwon is profoundly glad for it, a mask in case his tears actually spill over. 

They head back to their tent with haste. The chances of any soldiers catching even a glimpse of them is admittedly low, but they don’t entertain chances. 

Jay is the first to hit solid ground after they scale back down the zigzag path on the side of the building. Jungwon’s stretching his foot out for the last pipe holding- emotionally drained enough not to risk making the jump even though it’s not that far- when Jay clamps his hands around his waist, easing him down to the cracked stone path in a slow, controlled movement. Jungwon’s heartbeat thuds in his fingertips, still resting over Jay’s hands from when they’d flown there in surprise.  

“Why’d you come after me?” Jay says, close to his ear from behind. 

The wind is howling and water is still spitting at them from above, but the combination isn’t loud enough for Jungwon to act like he didn’t hear Jay. Maybe he wouldn't feel like faking it even if it was. 

“You go, I follow,” Jungwon says. He doesn’t look to see how Jay takes this. The remainder of the truth leaves him unbidden. “I’ll always find you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it scared you that bad, back then,” Jay says quietly. Jungwon reaches for his wrist, his pulse a steady thrum under Jungwon’s thumb. 

“Don’t. It’s okay. I didn’t even tell you how I was feeling, not really. I just… that night when we got back I reflected on why it got to me so much. I mean, I would’ve flipped if it was any of them, but… with you, I felt like I’d already lost you. Like you were already gone. The dread was overwhelming.”  

And then it actually happened. Jungwon’s head reels. It happened anyway. Jay seems to have followed right along with Jungwon’s thought process, his eyes going tender and sad. Jungwon can’t stand it, not when Jay was the one who’d been taken. 

He whispers, “I wish it’d been me.” A rift in his soul, showing itself at last. 

Jay blanches. Jolts upright, nearer. 

“No,” he says, so firmly there’s no wiggle room for discussion. He pillows Jungwon’s jaw in his hands so Jungwon can’t look away from him. “We’re not doing that. If our roles had been switched, would you wish on me what you went through?” 

Jungwon’s immediate desire is to shout Yes! It would’ve been better than what Jay endured. Any pain less than what Jay went through would be worth it. Jungwon would take on Unification a thousand times over if it meant Jay didn’t have to. But in truth, it’s not a fair question and there isn’t a right answer, which is why Jay posed it. 

All those months come back to Jungwon. All those days without looking after himself, without giving a shit about doing so. Being unable to. Every breath a struggle without Jay by his side. Without knowing the truth- if Jay was alive and being tortured by it, if he was alive and wishing he weren’t, or if he was already dead. The gritty grief of the past, the crushing disappointment of the present, the utter hopelessness of the future. It was hell, and Jungwon doesn’t want anything of that nature to touch Jay in the slightest. 

So, he shakes his head. 

Jay kisses him. First his hand, then his left cheek, then his lips. 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” he says, heavy, deathly serious. “But swapping places wouldn’t have been better for either of us. It wouldn’t have been worse. It would’ve just been, exactly as it was.” 

Jungwon takes a good long while to process this. He knows it’s true deep down, that he and Jay’s worths are the same and neither of them would’ve deserved such suffering over the other. No one deserves it at all. It just happened. It just was. Jungwon can’t change it, but he does have a direct, tangible influence in the now. 

Shifting to lay his head on Jay’s chest, pushing them to lay down in the process, Jungwon snakes his arms around Jay’s midsection and hugs him tight. But not before swatting at him and saying, “Motherfucker. Making sense all the time.” 

Jay laughs so loudly it makes Jungwon’s ears ring. It’s the best sound he’s ever heard. 

“I love you,” Jay sighs fondly, snuggling him closer. 

“I love you,” Jungwon returns. His eyes droop, fatigue finally catching up to him, pulling him under quickly. “So much.” 

And it’s: Jay’s fingers carding through his hair. Jay’s breath even and grounding. Jay’s voice floating at the very edge of consciousness, telling him, “Rest.” 

Chapter Text

Jay’s face is tilted up at the ceiling, hair sprawled all over, mouth open. Jungwon’s only just woken up and the sight still makes him chuckle under his breath. Smile. Run a hand over his face, feeling unmoored that it’s been less than twelve hours since he and Jay got together and he already feels sunlight vibrating through his veins. 

Jungwon then notices the rest of Jay’s body is gravitating toward him, even in sleep. That softens the amusement. Makes something warmer, fuller, unfurl in his chest. Gently, Jungwon gathers Jay close, guiding his face to his neck. 

With his arms around Jay’s back and shoulders like this, Jungwon can feel firsthand the strength that has returned to the older. The muscles under his hands aren’t in use right now, but the power in them flutters just beneath the surface. Developing. Hungry to get back to a sort of normalcy. Jungwon will never take it for granted. Jay’s already undergone an extensive physical journey from the frail frame he came back to them with. 

Accompanied by a ridiculous (cute) noise, Jay stirs awake. He smiles at Jungwon groggily, fixing his arm over Jungwon’s waist. They exchange quiet conversation until Jay is alert enough to not be garbling his words so much. 

That’s when Jay glides forward, and time trips over itself. Only once Jungwon’s mouth is numb from kissing does he put a hand to Jay’s chest to roll over and check the time. He’d pulled his watch off and deserted it on the bedside table in the night when it was rubbing against his skin uncomfortably. Jay enthusiastically takes the display of Jungwon’s nape as an opportunity to press sloppy kisses into the skin. Jungwon startles forward at the contact, gasping when Jay’s body follows suit, careening into his back. That just riles Jay up even more. 

“Okay, alright,” Jungwon laughs, breathless as he turns to put distance between them with hands on the older’s shoulders. Jay’s got a goofy, keen glint in his eyes. He looks happy. Exceptionally happy. 

Jungwon skims an idle hand over Jay’s short hair. “We have to go tell our friends we’re together.” 

That convinces Jay no problem. “Have to? Get to!” he exclaims, limbs flailing as he pitches out of bed, dragging Jungwon up too. 

It goes about how Jungwon expects it to: rambunctious and joyous. All the guys are finished with breakfast when they get to the eatery, most standing in a cluster by the table while Taeyong finishes tidying up. Sujin- busy running as fast as she can away from Sunghoon’s outstretched arms- tends to make a mess while eating. 

Jake is the first to zero in on Jungwon and Jay’s intertwined hands. His jaw drops, eyes flying up to meet Jungwon’s. Jungwon smiles at him, close-mouthed. Jake starts laughing, unyielding, and that draws the attention of everyone else. Shrieks of mock surprise, big hugs, and blinding grins follow. Everyone is so glad, congratulating them. They’ve all been waiting on this- on them- for the longest time. Jungwon just knows he’s crimson with glee by the time it’s all over and done with, but the easygoingness can’t last forever. 

A meeting for the entire compound is called to the ring to discuss the worsening issue of their dwindling supplies. Clothes, blankets, beds, toiletries. Food. Taeyong conveys this to their people with complete and utter calmness, but the fear it invokes in the throngs of bodies listening to him is impossible to ignore. They’re not bringing in as many materials from the facilities they raid as they are people. It’s arguable that they’re saving more people than they can help in accordance with all the individuals already here that still need just as much support. 

The thought that they won’t be able to do this forever has been crouched in the corner of Jungwon’s mind for months on end, but today is the first time he truly acknowledges it. They can’t continue to raid, not in the same way they have. They likely won’t be able to stay in the compound long-term at all. Unification will catch on. To the raiders, their mission, their location. It’s sickening that it’s not a matter of if, but when, and they’re in the dark. They have no idea how much Unification does or does not know about them. 

The vocal unrest truly emerges when Sunoo steps up to break the news about pulling back on medicine. Those who are in life threatening situations will receive as much help as possible, but they have to start being more mindful with what they have. More frugal. Voices clamor, bodies sway forward. Sunoo stares blankly at the sea of their people, despondent. It’s clear he knew this would happen. Tears spring to Jungwon’s eyes, remembering the heartbreak in Sunoo’s voice when he asked Jungwon in his office, helpless, what he was going to do. It’s not on Sunoo alone, but Jungwon can only imagine the responsibility his friend must feel toward this. 

Jungwon feels it too, in a different facet. The safety of those in the compound, and those yet to call this place their home, still trapped in their cells out in the vast forest- Jungwon feels he should be held accountable for that, at the very least, in part. He was the leader of their tracking team up until Jay’s return and he’s been reinstated now. He bears the top position for their eyes to the outside world, and he doesn’t feel that duty can be disregarded. 

Taeyong concludes by addressing the raiders themselves. Any one person who desires to stop raiding may do so, and there will be no judgment for their decision. No repercussions. It will be more dangerous now than ever before; they’ve raided enough facilities that Unification will be stepping up their game. Potentially prepared for attack. 

Anxious conversation ramps up even as the crowd disperses. Jungwon watches it all unfold with a limp spirit. He turns to look at Jay, right behind him, an unwavering beam in all of this. 

What are we going to do? Jungwon asks silently. Jay’s eyes lower. He brings Jungwon’s hand to his lips to ghost a kiss against the back of it, a whispered response of I don’t know. 

»

A large part of the compound has settled down for the night, most of the hallways empty. Jungwon, with wet hair from his recent shower soaking into the neckline of his shirt, is one of the stragglers. His steps are slow with the expanse of the day behind him, but he carries on. He glances into the common rooms he passes, though he has a feeling he knows where Jay is anyway. 

Sure enough, he’s the lone occupant in the training room. He’s over by the far wall, dripping sweat while running drills. Jungwon can tell he’s exhausted, can see his limbs wobbling. But he doesn’t stop. Even when his foot skids a little on the ground, even when his breath becomes labored. He resets and tries again. The muscles in his back flex, roll. He’s getting stronger. 

Jungwon leans against the wall just inside the doorway and watches until Jay’s leg half gives out and he ends up sitting on the floor, chin slumping to his chest in a way that hints that might’ve been enough for tonight. Jay gives Jungwon a tired smile when he sees him approaching and loops his arms around his propped up knees. He looks discouraged, but he doesn’t speak it aloud, doesn’t even sigh. 

The inclination to suggest Jay give himself grace is present, but Jungwon refrains. Jay already knows to do that. No one can bounce back from what he went through in two and a half months. But Jungwon can also see how disheartening for Jay it must be not to be able to naturally step back into the life he once led. 

Jungwon squats next to him, dabs the back of his hand against Jay’s beaded forehead since he didn’t bring a towel with him. “Hey,” he says softly. 

The tiny smile on Jay’s face shifts into something more genuine. He rests his hand at Jungwon’s back, arm strung along the length of Jungwon’s thigh. “Hey, Wonie. Go okay today?” 

Jungwon nods, though it was the same as it has been for days and days. Nothing. Nothing. They’ve been sticking closer to the compound on purpose, doing their best to explore places they’re not super familiar with, along with the first couple miles beyond the ravine. They don’t have the resources to be taking a ton of long winded trips so they’ll do what they can until they figure out a solution.

“It was fine. Didn’t find anything.” 

Jay purses his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart.” 

Shaking his head, Jungwon slips his hand into Jay’s free one, squeezing their palms together. Their skin connected, sharing heat- it’s soothing. They’d held hands a number of times before getting together, but Jungwon was always unsure of where the threshold to let go was. It was never like this, fearless, unquestioned. 

Jay moves the hand on Jungwon’s back to his hair, mussing it, flicking water droplets everywhere. 

“You and going around with wet hair,” Jay tuts, eyes narrowed. He scuffs the back of Jungwon’s head. “Quit doing that. You’ll get sick.” 

Humming placatingly and attempting to move the subject right along, Jungwon says, “You look good.” 

Jay is not impressed by this, knowing exactly what he’s doing. Still, he goes along with it, tossing in some wriggling eyebrows. Cheeky bastard. Jungwon rolls his eyes. 

“I meant your forms. You’re getting stronger.” 

The playfulness flees Jay swiftly. His eyes plummet to the floor. “Doesn’t feel like it.” 

“I’m sure,” Jungwon says, heart tugging. “But you’ll get there.” 

Jay’s gaze ticks up, his expression holding its breath. As if Jungwon’s words are what he’ll take as truth. As if that’d be enough assurance for him. Chest throbbing, Jungwon dips forward to kiss him. 

“You’ll get there,” he repeats. He knows, this time, they both believe it. 

»

By the end of March, the turmoil in the compound has grown. Questions no one can answer are launched around more than hope is. Trepidation clogs the hallways and rooms. People are scared. Really scared. They have less than ever, and Jungwon is at war with himself every day. No one here gets someone they’ve lost back. It’s unheard of. But Jungwon did. And though the future does frighten him, his heart is so full. 

Jay is here, recovering, scaling his way back to a past version of himself. The compound has nothing and Jungwon has everything. He keeps these musings strictly to himself since most wouldn’t be in the mindset to receive it. 

In the dregs of one evening, Jungwon has showered after tracking and heads toward the training room to drag Jay from his stretches and exercises to bed. He’s nearly there when hastened steps sound from the hallway to his right. He hardly has time to be alarmed by such urgent movement before something runs into him at full force. 

A body. A body ramming him against the wall so violently his head dings off it. The pain is immediate, sweeping, but Jungwon scrabbles disorientedly at the hands pinning his shoulders. In the margin of a jarring breath, he recognizes the individual. It’s the man who’s always in the medwing, vigilant over a bed that’s been occupied as long as they got Jay back, at least. His lover, maybe, or a close friend. Jungwon isn’t sure, but he recalls the open stare he’d caught the man in at the eatery a few weeks back, and realizes with opaque clarity that the instance wasn’t a mere coincidence. 

The man’s knee flies up, crunching into Jungwon’s abdomen. Jungwon folds over the hit with a cry but uses the opening to shove the man off balance while he’s only on one foot. The man stays latched on, towing Jungwon down with him as they crash in a heap to the floor. 

Jungwon scrambles upright to get a hit in at the man’s jaw, wanting to stun him just enough to put a stop to this. He really tries, then, to fling himself away. To get back, yelling, “What the fuck, man?” 

But the guy’s head snaps back from the punch and a raging fire explodes in his face, in his eyes. He screams- actually screams- and hurls Jungwon off of him with the vigor of someone with a much larger physique. Thrown into the wall once again, the air in Jungwon’s lungs leaves him in a twinging wheeze. He blinks stickily, head swimming, vision blurring. The man is already looming over him, his fist raining down in a blow to Jungwon’s cheekbone. 

A slant of time, and Jungwon is palms flat to the gritty floor, nose grazing it, groaning outside of himself at the agony pulsing in his knuckles, his midsection, head, face. A cry is ripped from his throat as the man yanks him into a sitting position with a hand seized in his hair. 

Jungwon can’t breathe around the rattling in his chest, can’t hear anything save the panic roaring in his ears and the man chanting, “-fault. Your fucking fault.” 

Then, as distinctly as a streak of sunlight spearing through the clouds: the sound of a pocket knife whipping open. Jungwon gurgles, thrashing wildly under the man’s cemented constraint. He kicks, shouts loudly to attract attention, fumbles for the single dagger concealed in his pants pocket-

The burden is gone. Removed altogether. 

Sagging against the wall, Jungwon heaves for proper gulps of air, confused by the white-hot feeling pumping through his veins, by the pain hammering bone-deep all over. The only parts of his surroundings he registers is the noise, both nearby and hustling closer, and the figure several paces away that’d hauled the man off of Jungwon. 

Jay. 

It’s Jay, radiating waves of wrath so vehement Jungwon can feel them rocking through him from here. His boyfriend’s back is to him, and he’s towering over the man on the floor, both hands fisted in his shirt. He’s in his face, unleashing something far beyond outrage on him, but Jungwon doesn’t hear what. With the threat dislodged, his mind checks out, his perception of what’s going on around him paired with it. 

When it returns, more people have made it to the scene and are subduing the man instead of Jay, though it no longer seems necessary. He isn’t fighting the arms detaining him. He isn’t resisting. He’s disintegrated like a corpse on the floor and he’s sobbing. Deep-rooted, howling sounds. The kind that comes from a fracture in the soul. Jungwon doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, or what just happened, but that animal sound is undeniably grief in its most raw, destructive form. 

Knees on the ground before him. Hands, hovering, not touching. Jay. Jay, his breath quivering in and out of him, his eyes glassy with fear. 

“Baby,” he whispers. 

Jungwon’s so relieved he’s here. He clutches the older’s wrist, a floundering sort of cry leaving him. Adrenaline crash, he thinks deliriously. Sunoo’s used the term before. Jay rightfully takes Jungwon reaching out as permittance to inch closer. He eases his hand along Jungwon’s skin to support his unmarred cheek, gingerly turning his face this way and that. 

“Why- what-?” Jungwon rasps, but his wince as he tries to sit up better cuts him off. 

“Don’t move, angel, don’t move,” Jay rushes. He sounds like he might cry. Jungwon closes his eyes, lets the hurt pool, fester. “Just breathe. Don’t worry about him, we’ll take care of it.” 

Jungwon obeys the best he can, pulling in air through his smarting nose and pushing it out through his mouth. Probing as thoroughly as he can without peeling layers away, Jay checks Jungwon’s injuries. 

“Can you tell me what hurts, Wonie? Then we’ll go see Sunoo.” 

Jungwon keeps his eyes shut. “Head. ‘M head.” That’s the worst of it, at least. Jungwon knows from experience everything else will be sore for a while before healing diligently. 

A brief pause. “Your cheek?” Jay asks. He must be looking at the part of Jungwon’s face that’s surely already red and swelling up, but he knows better than to stroke along it. 

“No, my head got… hit. Maybe twice. Don’t remember.” 

“Shit,” Jay curses. “Fuck. Okay, baby, I’m gonna pick you up, alright? Going to the medwing.” 

Jungwon slurs something of a reply and gets two kisses pressed in quick succession to his lips for his trouble before Jay gathers him in his arms and lifts him straight up from the floor to pillow him against his chest. Jungwon doesn’t say a single thing on the way. There’s a strike of something clattering against metal when Jay charges into the medwing in a flurry. 

“What the hell happened?” Jungwon hears Sunoo sputter in shock as he races over. 

“Someone attacked him in the hallway,” Jay explains through gritted teeth, lowering Jungwon onto the nearest vacant bed. 

With a short string of explicitives, Sunoo starts the process of running through all his tests and checks. Jungwon didn’t break the skin on his knuckles from punching the man, so his hand will simply feel like it’s about to fall off for a while. His stomach may bruise, but the man’s knee didn’t snag his ribs or anything vital, so Jungwon’s good there too. 

Jungwon was right about his face; Sunoo verifies that his eye might not be able to open fully tomorrow. But the puffiness should reduce quickly, and his nose isn’t broken. As for his head, Sunoo assesses his vision and his reaction time to various instructions. He passes just fine. Outside of the pounding headache, Sunoo isn’t terribly concerned. Jungwon will just have to take it easy for a few days and be blatantly honest if he notices any dizziness or issues with balance or memory. 

At this conclusion, Jay relaxes faintly. Jungwon can tell he’s still worked up, but he was overtly worried that there would be more serious complications from Jungwon’s fairly recent concussion. 

Apparently the word spread, enough for all their friends to convene. Jungwon isn’t sure who was involved with the actual aftermath of the altercation, but Jay seems to. He catches Heeseung’s eye, the older man giving Jay a sharp, grim nod. Whatever they decided to do, the man has obviously been contained somewhere for now. 

“Jesus,” Jake mutters, tipping Jungwon’s chin to observe his face. Jungwon lets them all look, knowing he would behave the same way if it were any of them in his position. Jay is sitting sideways on the edge of the bed, his arm stretched out behind Jungwon’s back so he can lean against it. 

“How the fuck did this happen?” Niki says, voice like thunder. Like the angry energy Jungwon can feel trembling from Jay at his back. 

Sunghoon: “He just came at you?” 

“Yeah,” Jungwon says. “From the connecting hallway. Didn’t see him coming.”

“He didn’t say anything first?” Mark, this time. “Just attacked you?”

Jungwon confirms again. Taeyong shakes his head, as lost as the rest of them are. “Did he say anything at all?” 

Jungwon feels ill even remembering the haunting, deathlike tone the man had used, tearing at his hair, opening the knife. It hasn’t truly caught up to Jungwon yet, how badly everything could have gone. “He said it was my fault.” 

The group bristles. Jay’s body locks up. And Sunoo- he goes perfectly still. 

“The man,” he says, just shy of timid. “Who was it?” 

Jungwon’s about to say he doesn’t know his name, but that he’s here in the medwing often. Heeseung answers before he can. 

“His name’s Dowon.” 

Sunoo’s face pales. That sick feeling digs its feet in, becomes a part of Jungwon. Sunoo’s standing close enough to the bedside that Jungwon can grab his wrist. His friend’s eyes dutifully meet his, but his mouth is set all wrong and Jungwon knows. He hopes more than anything that he’s wrong, but he knows. 

“Sun,” Jungwon says, an unspoken plea. Tell me. 

Sunoo moves to hold his hand, simultaneously pulling on his clinical armor. The preparation he always initiates before delivering news no one wants to hear. Jungwon’s eyes take on that prickling sensation in the silence, proactively dreading whatever his friend will say. 

“You’re aware he was in here all the time?” Sunoo is talking to Jungwon, just Jungwon. Jungwon croaks out a yes. 

“He was with his girlfriend, Dae. She passed this evening.” The group exhales, a collective moment of silence for the woman following. “Her injuries from the raid... I did everything I could with what we have. But her body was too weak and she just- she wasn’t healing. Tonight was the end of her fight.” 

Working past the gravel in his throat, Jungwon asks, “Which raid?” 

Ah, he thinks, as Sunoo’s face falls further. This is what his friend didn’t want to tell him. 

“When you found Jay.” 

Jungwon is taken aback, actually, by the tears that come to his eyes. He grinds his teeth in spite of the sting it shoots up into his inflamed cheek, turns his head away from his friends. It doesn’t matter if his thoughts for the next half hour or so are all that rational. The emotion that the news of Dae’s passing elicits in Jungwon is complex enough that he doesn’t possess the fortitude to fend it off. 

Jay does. He chases the demons away in their room to the best of his abilities. Every touch cradling Jungwon’s battered body, every look lacking all judgment, every word sturdy and kind. Jungwon feels dirty. He’s drenched in shed blood and Jay doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know how many people he killed in an effort to get Jay back. Most were soldiers, yes. But what of those like Dae? Whose demise Jungwon inadvertently had a hand in? Who were on that raid that night because Jungwon insisted it happen then? Despite the time and the snow and the storm. Despite all the odds stacked against them. 

“Wonie, you didn’t force them to go with you,” Jay objects once he’s withdrawn these unarticulated thoughts from Jungwon. “No one is required to join the raids, even if they’ve helped with every single one before that. It’s never expected. And I know from Jake that you were actually very determined to go to my facility on your own if the others wouldn’t. So you didn’t push them into it either.” 

“Where’s the line?” Jungwon counters, distressed. “I’m a leader.” 

Jay runs his hand over Jungwon’s knee. “Regardless of your title, everyone’s responsible for their own decisions. It’s awful that Dae lost her life and that Dowon was left behind. But that comes down to Unification, Yang Jungwon, not you. Uni soldiers hurt Dae, not you. It was her choice to fight, and she sacrificed everything for it. We honor that and her by remembering her.”

The words sink in gradually. Sunshine melting snow, wind dying down after a storm. 

“I didn’t kill her,” Jungwon says, testing the words out, examining them. 

“No, baby.” Jay’s face is shuttering at something, but he sounds so sure. “You didn’t kill her.”

“Dowon…”

“Dowon is grieving. You’re attached to the raids as the tracking leader and you were attached to that raid in particular since everyone knows that’s when I came back. And that we’re together. He needed someone to blame and he chose you.” 

Jay swoops in, cupping Jungwon’s cheeks, intentionally avoiding the tender area. 

“That doesn’t make it right. Violence amongst our people goes against everything we stand for. I… I heard you yelling. From the training room. My heart stopped, Jungwon. I saw him grab you by the hair.” He has to stop to suck in a breath, visibly battling angst and anger. Voice flayed apart, he says, “Open that knife. Grief or not, it’s unacceptable. It won’t be taken lightly.” 

An iron promise. It may as well be sealed with blood, the certainty with which Jay says it. Something flits loose in Jungwon’s chest. For good, maybe. Something held, seen. Jay will take care of it. Jungwon can let him. 

“Careful,” Jay murmurs as Jungwon clambers closer. 

“I’m still scared,” Jungwon admits. 

Jay inclines his head solemnly, whisking Jungwon’s hair away from his face. “Of what?” 

“There’s very little I wouldn’t do. To get you back,” Jungwon whispers. The room shrinks to the space between them. “Very little I wouldn’t sacrifice. Very few people who could stand in the way, if anyone. That terrifies me. That I could be that unbridled. It’s not… a good thing. Right? Not a quality a leader should have.”

A moment passes. Jay seems to be mulling over what Jungwon said, though his hands on Jungwon don’t move. 

“Do you know why you lead our tracking team? Why so many people look to you? Because you’re strong. You don’t falter when you make your mind up about something. Even when it gets hard, and even more so when the odds are pitted against you.” Jay brushes their noses together, like he can’t help but pause to extend comfort in that way. 

“That’s why. Not because you’re perfect, or because you’re always going to make the right decision. Because you’re human, and you’re a damn good one.” 

»

“You don’t have to be there.” 

Jungwon finishes shrugging on his jacket before turning to look at Jay. The older’s forehead is creased in the muted light of their bedroom, his hands stuffed in his pockets like he’s keeping himself from reaching out. Jungwon takes the step for him, wrapping his arms around the older’s torso. 

“I know,” Jungwon says as Jay’s arms encircle him delicately, still wary of the bruises fading beneath Jungwon’s shirt. “I want to.”

“Okay,” Jay accepts readily enough, though his voice hardens around his next words. “We’ll all be there with you.” 

Jungwon hugs Jay tighter. The older’s been struggling the last couple days as the leaders decided what to do with Dowon, fighting the line between rage with the man’s actions toward Jungwon and viewing the issue from an unbiased standpoint. Needless to say, the others are just about as angry as he is. Niki, especially, has been unrepentant in not wanting to grant any mercy to Dowon. 

Jungwon was not included in the decision process per his own choice. Once he’d heeded Sunoo’s command to take it easy for a few days and received the all-clear regarding his head, he went about his business tracking during the day and would get updates from Jay at night, running his hand over his love’s keyed up shoulders. They’d never had a situation to this degree come up in the compound, so the conversations evaluating punishment and preventive measures for the future were all new. Jay’s sizzling fury was new as well.

“What’s the end result here?” Jungwon asked him a few nights ago. Sleep felt like a far off thing when Jay couldn’t stop scraping his hands through his hair, overwhelmed. “You want to kill him?” 

Jay’s jaw clenched up tight, eyes on the wall beyond their bed. “He tried to kill you.” 

“He lost his girlfriend.” 

“That’s not an excuse. It’s not. Jungwon, he’s not sorry. He’s not acting out anymore, but he hasn’t expressed an ounce of remorse. We don’t take that shit. He gets away with this, and what’s to stop it from happening to other innocent people here? Other leaders?” 

Jay’s chest rose and fell unnaturally. Jungwon scooted closer to him, the blanket rucking up around his legs. He laid his hand on the older’s cheek, thumb tracing his lower lip. This man who loves him so. 

“I get it,” he’d said. “This anger. I do, Jay. I… I killed so many people the night we got you back. All those nights before I knew if you were even…” 

Jay’s hand raised to Jungwon’s cheek so their actions mirrored each other. 

“I get it,” Jungwon reiterated. “With Dowon… I don’t know what the resolution is. How to best handle this so it doesn’t happen again. But I understand him, at least a little bit. The night I got my world back was the start of him losing his. That doesn’t make his actions after losing her valid, but we can’t kill him for that, Jay. I don’t think that should be up to us.” 

Jay was still wrestling with his conflicting emotions, but he could see Jungwon’s point of view as well. The ending verdict for Dowon was that he was no longer welcome in the compound. He would be sent away with as many supplies as they could give him, but he couldn’t stay. Jungwon’s breath caught when Jay told him. 

It felt cruel, in a way. Jungwon stood by his earlier reflection that he wasn’t sure what the best path to dealing with the man was. Leaving him to face the fate of the outside world alone felt brutal. But Jungwon couldn’t envision a true place for him here anymore either. His grief led to prompt violence. They can’t allow the man space for it to happen again, to potentially erupt into something even more hazardous. Jungwon thought of that anger turning against Sunoo or Niki, Jake or Heeseung, Taeyong, Mark, Sunghoon. Jay. 

Maybe there’s not a correct answer at all. What Jungwon’s friends have chosen is that Dowon leaves. Jay told Jungwon that the man didn’t even react when they told him. Dae was buried just past the compound outside, along with the others that have died in the time they’ve been here. Dowon was given ample time with her at the site, but, of course, that could never be enough. 

He was bestowed a pack with clothing, a tarp for shelter, food, water, two blankets, and a fire starter. The bag looks like it’s drilling him into the floor as he trudges out from the hallway to the final stairwell, Sunghoon and Taeyong right behind him, stoic. All the other leaders are already here for his send-off. 

It’s tense. No one says a word. Dowon seems unperturbed with this, detached from the moment. That is, until his shuffling feet stop when he’s about to pass Jungwon. Niki, standing across the way, darts forward in protest. Jay steps forward as well, a solid wall. Making it transparent that if Dowon makes a move, he won’t get to Jungwon at all. 

But Dowon doesn’t lunge. Doesn’t spit on the floor in front of Jungwon, doesn’t say anything nasty. He turns his head and looks Jungwon straight in the face. His eyes are filled with tears.

With no fanfare, he takes his leave. Steps heavy and final on the metal stairs, out into the world beyond. The door clangs shut after him, the two individuals stationed up there for the time being looking at each other first before down at the leaders. 

“Okay?” Jay says, fingertips gentle on Jungwon’s forearm. Jungwon agrees, though his mind is stuck, though a single shudder passes through him from the despair on that man’s face. At the way his pack had hung from his shoulder like a boulder rather than valuable provisions for his survival. Just extra weight for a wanderer. Jungwon feels like he’s been drug through the mud. 

He wonders, in the quietness of his heart, what sort of decision Dowon will make. 

»

It feels as if the shift takes place overnight, though the reality is that this kind of movement has been brewing for weeks, if not months. More and more people leave in the days after Dowon is sent away. Not as a direct correlation; the leaders kept the matter hushed in an attempt to not rouse panic. Just because of unease toward the unknown. 

Fights break out, a spattering of them here and there. What belongs to who? Who has claim over what? There isn’t a line drawn to separate what can be given to those deciding to go out on their own and what needs to remain here for those who are still here. Still going to fight, to raid. 

Jungwon can’t find a sliver of space within himself to blame those who decide to leave. He meets them in the hallway and moves aside to let them pass and he says nothing. Those who don’t have high stakes in raids would want to remove themselves from the crux of the danger. They don’t want to be here when the raiders inevitably capture Unification's attention. 

Outside of the compound itself changing, Jungwon’s relationship with Jay alters too. Jungwon offers more up to the older about the past, of his experience here while Jay was missing. Studying the map obsessively like it would reveal the secret of Jay’s whereabouts to him. Choking down food. Feigning sleep. Evading their friends’ good intentions. The tree. 

“Where are we going?” Jungwon says around a yawn early one morning, trailing after Jay’s leading hand interlocked with his. Jay doesn’t answer him, just turns abruptly so Jungwon runs into his front and drops a kiss on Jungwon’s lips. 

They go to the tree. The very spot Jungwon found the knife. The very place Jay was taken. And of course, that’s how the older remembered where it was. The thought locks Jungwon’s heartbeat in his throat. He cannot say anything for a long while. Jay says it for him. 

“That one?” He juts his chin up at the tree with the perch, the one Jungwon would sit on each morning, waiting for the sun to rise over a world he didn’t care to see without Jay in it. Jungwon manages a slight nod. Their hands separate as Jay walks over, Jungwon standing still, watching him. 

Jay looks at the tree for a chunk of time, as if it’s something profound rather than a coping mechanism of Jungwon’s past. The older’s steps take him farther to the left, toward the middle of the open patch of land. Where he was beaten. Stolen. He stands with his back to Jungwon, eyes raised to the forest and Jungwon watches him, biting the inside of his cheek, letting the tears leap to the forefront of his eyes as they come. 

By the time Jay returns to him, they’re both crying. For their own experiences here, and for each other’s. 

“Jungwon,” Jay murmurs. His gaze tracks under Jungwon’s eye, the swelling finally having gone down. “I’m ready.” 

Instinctive refusal absorbs Jungwon, but he clamps down on the words before they escape him. It’s the middle of April and Jay has been recovering for three and a half months. He’s regained much mental and physical strength in this period, apart from his separate eagerness to help out again. A part of Jungwon stills wants to argue with him on it, to beg him to stay under some semblance of protection in the compound. But Jay’s already had too much taken from him for Jungwon to justify stepping in to dismiss what he wants. 

Jay is tracking with them once again by the very next morning. There’s a few hiccups getting him back into the swing of things- he tires by the end of the first couple days, unused to so much movement- but he falls into routine as seamlessly as Jungwon figured he would. 

When the first raid upon Jay’s return comes up two weeks later, Jungwon is a wreck. Jay himself isn’t doing much better, though it has less to do with the raid itself and more from seeing a group of outsiders dragged inside the facility just hours ago while the team was shrouded in the underbrush, watching the soldiers’ movements. 

“I can’t believe it’s still affecting me this bad,” Jay gasps out, wet eyes hidden against Jungwon’s bare shoulder. They’re in the midst of changing, the meeting with the raiders completed and the time they will depart for the fight set and barreling closer. 

Jungwon abandons his shirt right to the floor and pulls Jay by the back of the neck to crush him to his front. Being faced with Jay’s struggles helps Jungwon block his own head out. To reassure him that of course it’s still bothering him. He’s only a few months removed from Unification’s hand dictating his health, his sleep, his meals. Just hours ago, they witnessed innocent people being transported into the facility like supplies rather than people. Jay had been treated like that. Survived it. 

And he will again. This is what Jungwon repeats to himself over and over as they leave their room, the compound, the forest into the ravine. As they trek into the forest beyond that. As they come upon the facility they will raid tonight. 

Jungwon’s body quakes, but he forbids himself from cowering. He and Jay deliberately stay by each other’s side the whole time. The outside gate and main door go down, the soldiers on the first floor are taken care of, the cells downstairs are unlocked and opened one by one. Jay is mainly focused on the needy and Jungwon is wholly focused on Jay. He will survive, he tells himself, wide eyes burning from the luminescents overhead, refusing to blink at risk of missing a crucial second. He will survive. That is the truth. I will make it so. 

At least for this first raid back. Maybe the crippling concern will fade with future raids, as Jungwon tries to relinquish some of that control. Maybe it won’t. Nevertheless, Jungwon needs to see this night through. Needs to cater to the cavern in his chest that tells him Jay won’t return home with him if he’s not exceedingly cautious. 

They’re switching from one hallway to the next when a soldier pops around the corner before them. Jay is nearer to them than Jungwon only for the time it takes the younger to pull him back, away. He throws his shoulder into the assailant’s chest, dagger in their neck before their body hits the floor. 

His next weapon is already poised, waiting for the rise of their chest, waiting for them to move again, daring them to. Jay’s arms hooking under Jungwon’s, pulling him up to his feet coaxes him back to reality, away from the searing red tint engulfing his mind. 

Jay coils an arm around Jungwon’s lower back, hugging him for a split second. Not the time or the place; they both know that, which is why the contact doesn’t last. But Jay tucks some of Jungwon’s hair behind his ear, his features grave with worry. I’m okay. We’re both okay. 

Jungwon wants to internalize that, but he can’t quite get there until the job is done. Until they’ve left the facility behind, halls cleared, and hurried through the forest. Until they’ve made it back to the compound, door secured shut behind them, and helped out in the medwing with new arrivals after ensuring all of their friends are accounted for and unharmed. 

Only once they’ve staggered to their room, showered, and collapsed in bed does Jungwon allow his mind to slow. They don’t try to talk about any of it, not right then. Jungwon just curls his hand in Jay’s shirt and Jay pulls him so close Jungwon’s weary thoughts can’t differentiate where his body ends and Jay’s begins. 

»

Aside from the halfway expected bout of nightmares their first raid back together brings up for them both, the following days have something settling between them. They work together to push back the darkness their night terrors demand they feel and cast their issues out into the light. It’s trust, maybe. Trust in each other that was already there, now strengthened. Jungwon has confidence Jay will come to him with that which bothers him. Jungwon is starting to believe they’ll work through all those problems together. Jungwon knows Jay is always a step behind him, right beside him, and that he is the same cornerstone for Jay that Jay is for him. 

Their already established bond holds fast, a motivator for Jungwon’s doubts. He takes each day as it is: that day. For a month’s time, the tracking team goes out in search of the next facility. Day after day, Jay comes back with Jungwon, unscathed. Not a scratch on him, except for the time he ate shit while he and Sunghoon went all out in a footrace the last few yards back to the compound. 

Jay keeping by Jungwon’s side, in his sight, ending each long day next to him in their bed- it helps. Jungwon is sure he won’t ever be able to let go of his fear of Jay being snatched from his grasp without reservations, but he tries to stay present. Grounded to Jay’s hand in his, greedy for Jay’s eyes meeting his. He’s spoiled in that sense. Jay seems to have a hard time keeping his eyes off of Jungwon at practically any point of the day. It’s constant. Literally all the time. No matter what they’re doing. 

Jungwon’s just finished placing the last of his daggers on top of the dresser and turns to see Jay’s dark eyes trained on him, his movements. Jungwon starts to smile, but keeps it to himself. The older man looks so handsome sitting in the chair across the room, unreal in the low light. 

“Always staring,” Jungwon teases, going to him. Jay doesn’t even pretend to deny it. He’s shameless in his pride to be called out for such a thing. 

“You’re so pretty,” he says in that way he always says things that pertain to Jungwon. Factually. It’s the simple truth, at least according to Jay. His eyes are dripping, with heat, with love. Jungwon feels so fiercely for him, and yet, can hardly stand the sheer mass of Jay’s affection for him. He wants it, needs it like he needs air, but that doesn’t mean he’s grown accustomed to it enough to not flush down to the roots of his hair all the damn time. I want to be close to you, Jay told him a few weeks back. In whatever capacity you’ll have me. I don’t care. I just want to be near you. 

Jungwon takes a steadying breath, jostled into a more prominent smile as he catches Jay’s eyes traveling back and forth between his own. Studying Jungwon like he’s something precious. 

“Your hair’s starting to grow out,” Jungwon comments, running his finger along the shell of Jay’s ear where some of the tufts stick out. Jay’s upper body twitches with a shiver. He turns his head, kisses the center of Jungwon’s hand. 

“Does it look bad?” he asks with an air that indicates he doesn’t really care. His own appearance doesn’t tend to bother him all that much. He’s probably just asking for Jungwon's opinion. 

“Not bad,” Jungwon says, surveying the older’s hair more directly. “Just uneven in some spots.” 

Jay hums. His undivided attention is back on Jungwon’s face. “Clean it up for me?” 

Jungwon accedes easily enough. Today didn’t bring about any success in finding another facility so they need to start fresh tomorrow. The two of them need to sleep, and soon, but Jungwon doesn’t think the trim should take too long. 

Once he’s finished, he stands in front of Jay to look over his work. “Well. It’s not terrible.”

Jay doesn’t respond. He’s quite busy holding Jungwon’s hips, staring up at him. With an amused huff, Jungwon looks at him, carefreeness fizzling out. The flipped height difference does something to Jungwon’s ability to think lucidly. 

Slowly, Jay draws Jungwon into his lap. Jungwon adjusts his wrists to clasp behind Jay’s neck, letting his weight settle on top of the older since he knows he can handle it. 

“Thank you,” Jay whispers. He’s such a sap. He’s beautiful. 

“You’re welcome,” Jungwon says sincerely, bumping their noses together as he swipes some of the hair from Jay’s shoulder. “Up. You need to shower. Early start tomorrow.” 

Jay grunts in agreement, but Jungwon recognizes the flash in his eyes. A fairly new development. Jungwon’s traitorous heart jolts, anticipation spiking. 

“Hey,” Jungwon says, voice already on edge. He can tell by the intensity evolving in Jay’s eyes that he’s going to lose this fight. Quickly. It’s no surprise that Jay doesn’t let go of him when Jungwon tries to slide off his lap. “Jay.” 

Jay has the audacity to cock his head to the side. Jungwon glares until Jay cracks a smile. “Come with me?” 

A snort breaks through Jungwon’s tough act against his will. “That’s not winding down for bed.” 

Jay answers by standing right up, hands under Jungwon’s thighs and all. Jungwon yelps and Jay has him pressed to the wall next to the bathroom door in the next breath, forehead resting against his. Feeling particularly naggy, Jungwon snarks, “This really isn’t-” 

Jay holds him with one arm- fuck- and snakes the other one up to grip the back of Jungwon’s hair. “Stop talking,” he mutters against Jungwon’s mouth, and Jungwon loses the fight. 

»

Waking up is shit because neither of them slept much and Jungwon is sore. Jay does a horrendous job at hiding his smirk. Jungwon punches him in the arm. Once they’ve made themselves look somewhat presentable, they venture to the eatery in search of food. 

It’s just past five in the morning so the actual breakfast spread won’t be prepared yet. Still, they find most of the tracking group already there, grabbing handfuls of dried fruit and dried meat and drinking water. 

Jungwon and Jay join them and eat while they talk about the day ahead. Mark arrives after a short while, leaving only Sunghoon out from their team. 

“Well,” Jungwon says, wiping his mouth. “Does anyone care if we leave earlier than planned? We can go get Sunghoon.” 

Everyone’s fine with the change. The sooner they start, the better. They decide to meet at the entrance in about ten minutes. Jungwon and Jay walk to Sunghoon’s room, which is almost perfectly opposite from theirs in the big loop the compound makes. There’s no noise inside even after a couple knocks on the door. Jungwon pokes his head in but their friend isn’t there. 

Frowning, he starts toward the front of the compound, Jay a step behind him. They’d already checked the training room and the ring on the way. Jungwon greets the man and woman at the door and asks if someone left in the last hour. They say they’d missed him by only a minute or so. 

Jay thanks them as they make their way outside. They look at each other as the door returns to its rightful place behind them. The team is leaving soon; even without the time change, they would’ve been heading out in half an hour. It’s not the best time to be going out for a walk. 

Jungwon is struck once again by how much he and Sunghoon used to be echoes of each other. Both of them stealing out of the compound, going their separate ways before anyone even woke up. Jungwon to the left, Sunghoon to the right. Jungwon to grieve, Sunghoon to heal from his past pain. Gut twisting, Jungwon realizes he doesn’t know if Sunghoon has ever stopped taking those walks. Jungwon hasn’t been on a single one since he got Jay back, at least not in the way he used to. 

It’s a shitty friend move, and he feels horrible about it. Sunghoon must have had a really bad night to feel the need to escape right now. Squinting through the near darkness, Jungwon looks to the right, seeking out Sunghoon’s figure. He cranes his neck around, but doesn’t see him. It’s only been a few minutes, so surely- 

Jungwon turns on his heel, scouring the left side instead. There, just a blot in the distance now, is Sunghoon. Running. 

Without a word of discussion, Jungwon and Jay break out into a similar pace. The two of them remain absolutely silent. If they were acting normal, they would call out to Sunghoon. They would pick up the pace to catch up to him, sling their arms around his shoulders. Check in. See if he’s doing alright, or if last night’s dreams were hard on him. See if he needs to sit out tracking today. 

But half a mile passes and something strange has planted itself in Jungwon's mind. Sunghoon is moving. As if on a mission. His pace is not contemplative, nor does it seem to be out of frustration, needing to blow off steam. It’s measured. Methodical. Even with the fair distance they make sure to leave separating them, it’s clear Sunghoon’s upper body is locked up, his legs pumping quickly. 

A mile. 

A mile and a half. 

A mile and three quarters. 

Two miles, a bit farther, and Jungwon’s feet slow to a stop. Chills break out over his skin. 

It sounds like someone’s standing on his throat when Jay says, “Is that-?” 

Jungwon can only urge his body to move, blood thrumming from the run. They start toward the building Sunghoon disappeared into. As they walk, quiet, aching, Jungwon rationalizes with himself desperately, though he can’t place why it feels desperate. This is the facility Sunghoon was saved from. Coming back here specifically, to the place that held so much pain and suffering for him, may be therapeutic in a way. Maybe he needs to remind himself that though he once was caught up here, he isn’t anymore. Maybe visiting here gives him the motivation he needs to go out and offer those like him the same opportunity at a new life. 

But Jungwon can’t swallow past the lump in his throat as they pick through the field littered with the fallen gate pushed down by the raiders all those months ago and the rotten bodies of soldiers who fell that day. The smell is horrid, rank and unsettling, but it’s only a factor in why Jungwon feels nauseous. 

They breach the entrance, stale air and silence laid out before them. 

Hardly louder than a breath, Jay says, “Where do you think he…?” 

Jungwon goes left. He’s had much practice keeping his footfalls nonexistent, and he brings it into play now. One last breath, and he peeks his head around the corner of the communications room. 

The space is in ruins thanks to Jake and Jungwon’s work back then. It seems like a lifetime ago that they were here. Most of the electronics were pulled from the walls, but there’s one massive screen still hanging on the far one. It’s lit up, covered in writing and diagrams that no outsider would understand. 

With his back to them, Sunghoon navigates the system with ease, clicking, typing, there and there and there. 

A hitching sob bursts from Jungwon’s throat. 

Sunghoon whirls around, pupils blown, as Jay hisses, “What the fuck!” Jay lurches to step in front of Jungwon, stance defensive, arms bracing the gun he points at their friend. Their- 

Slowly, so very slowly, Sunghoon raises one hand in the air, his palm open, fingers spread. Someone’s breathing is a whistle, high-pitched, off-kilter. Jay shifts, nervous, the gun shaking as Sunghoon reaches with his other hand for something behind him on the desk. 

“Sunghoon,” Jay warns in a bellow, voice encased in steel, in anguish. But Jungwon sees it before Jay does and compels his leaden body forward to cup his hand over the barrel of the gun, lowering it just so. He waits, everything he thought he knew about this man before them rewriting itself. 

The knife Sunghoon lifts up is painted a deep green, pure white stenciling climbing around the hilt. His eyes are on Jungwon alone. 

“It was me,” he says. “Jungwon. It was me.”