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Before the glass prison fully encloses Kim Soleum, he hears, "take a break, Grapes-ie." All he sees are the empty eyes of the man he started to love, eyes that shed the mask that they held to delude him into safety, eyes that now held apathy and contempt. His heart shakes, "Alph–" he gets sucked into the void.
He doesn't know how long he's been in this white, empty space. All he could feel was anxiety and betrayal.
They wouldn't... they wouldn't lie to him, right? They're good people, they have kind hearts, they uphold justice...Maybe that's hypocritical to expect of them. He's got his own secrets and lies hidden from them, not of his own accord, not really. Soleum looks down at his hand. Maybe it was his fault and they were just responding in kind. After all, looks can be deceiving in this world and he's not innocent in this regard.
Now that he has time to look back, without the urgency of fear and adrenaline, or rose-colored lenses, he can see the warning signs. Despite being in a relationship with both men, he's rarely gotten the chance to scent them or them him, always blocked behind a thin wall of second skin scent blockers and typically getting only a whisper of their scents. They've always treated him politely so maybe there were some suspicions but that made sense because he still uses his name. But he wasn't lying about this being true self being a fearful coward... he wasn't! That's not something he would lie about.
Maybe he slipped up somewhere?
He tries to rationalize as he always does, but without the lingering weight of braun who somewhat held him steady through times like this, the ache of loneliness, and the burn of betrayal that he refused to acknowledge– the silence was only a mirror to his thoughts. The longer the interrogation went on, which felt like months, the more his mind deteriorated. His omegan instincts called for alphas that he can't recall the scents of, only the feelings of their hands and embraces and soft lips on his. Cold, empty eyes... and a neutral, monotonal voice.
It all started to click that just as he hid from them, they did the same to him... and he can't say he doesn't deserve it. His weakness was that he believed in their good hearts... but people don't exist as 2 dimensional words and traits on a screen. Soleum has yet to hold that fact close to him.
Apathetic, dull blue, an empty expression– the image burns in his mind, he bites back a whimper and cages the truth around his bleeding heart.
Each interrogation leads nowhere as the subject remains silent. Yet silence can be an answer; non-verbal cues, instinctual responses, and tension can still be read. Suspicion of espionage has been confirmed; procedure with new interrogation techniques continues following confirmation. Labyrinth of nightmares escalation denied. Attempts to elicit emotional response failed.
New anomalies: subject shows lack of orientation to time, space, and conversation. Subject no longer engages in polite conversation. All attempts at communication and questioning are no longer met with any reactions. Subject displays no awareness to the questioner. Subject’s affect is blunted and flat, no responses to visual and emotional stimuli; mood observed as flat. Subject observed to have similar states as [redacted]. Further interrogation is cautioned in lieu of subject's mental state, and continuous questioning may lead to deterioration. Subject scent glands unblocked and exposed, and questioner notes no scent can be inferred and is described as "empty." Interrogator's personal recommendation and proposal for board if interrogation is to continue: omegan rehabilitation and trust rebuilding before questioning. The subject has lost connection to all instinctual needs and comforts. Consider the subject's dynamic for next steps and expected outcomes should restrictions to omegan instincts continue to be enforced.
[Friend?] Unseeing eyes look beyond his own thin fingers with slow, steady breaths, and no sounds beyond his breathing can be heard in the white space.
[Friend? This Braun is concerned] Yet, not even a twitch.
There is no Braun, Soleum knows. Braun can't be inside the glass with him because they took him away. There are no phantom gloved hands to touch his shoulder, or a looming presence behind his back. Braun is gone; alphas are gone; he is alone in this white, scentless, soundless place. All that is reaching out to him is a figment of his scarce remaining imagination of Braun... He dares to say he even misses the Darkness.
Maybe their love was also a figment of his imagination. Something to keep him sane in the madness. His breath stutters which is the most it's done beyond limpid breaths for who knows how long. He can't remember anymore. The void in his soul feels endless, gaping and ever present during times of rest or silence. And what exists here is only silence and now endless nothingness. Food tastes like nothing, not even ash. Water feels unnecessary, clothing feels rough and painful when he shifts, nothing soft, no nesting, no comfort. Only the dokkaebi remains. When he closes his eyes, sometimes he feels a small hand brush his hair and the warmth of a candle flame, but not even that comforts him.
No matter what he does, he can't sleep. His body switches between anxious tension or loose emptiness. Neither allows him the rest that the pure space promised in the records, and the lack of sleep further eats away at his mind, skin and bones. Even if he were to tell them the truth of his origin and the world, he fears it would harm the interrogator– a laughable thought. Even in this, he cares for another faceless being. Hasn't he learned his lesson already? Hasn't his slip up in trust led him to this point... Soleum... you fool.
The thoughts halt. Nothing comes from hurting; he has no more energy to put to feeling anything. It just feels like trying to catch a wisp of smoke.
The glass scrapes, and sounds so grating on his sensitive ears that it rattles his brain. Beyond the mist outside of the glass wall, a figure approaches. A new interrogator, a familiar person. An echo of longing caught and released, a whisper of "alpha" in the corners of his mind as he sees beyond his hand at the dark, uncharted sea of Ryu Jaekwan's somber and heavy gaze.
A sinister thought snaps at the whisper and the echo, 'so they decided to use this type of interrogation today...' meaning alph– Agent Bronze was in on it the whole time. After lengths of time unknown in this glass world, a corner of his mouth twitches upward mockingly. Of course. Of course. Bureau interrogation methods are malicious and intense, they would even use a familiar face to find answers they want.
Sluggishly, he gets up from the bed and sits on the chair. Soleum moves his gaze to meet Jaekwan's and the other's gaze darkens, jaw tenses, and brows furrow. Soleum withholds a flinch.
"Before we begin the interrogation, allow me to inform you that you have the freedom to make false statements, however lies will be transparently revealed." Oh. He missed this sound.
Soleum knows his silence is suspicious and he resigned himself to interrogation with the one he holds feelings for. Resigned that his trust and image in the other's eyes are ruined, and Kim Soleum admits that he played the man's feelings and familiarity with the unknown side effect that his would be played in turn. What a human experience. How ironic.
In any case, he can't deny the method's effectiveness– a vile technique from an honest man. To use an omega's close ties against them after depriving the omega of instinctual comforts and needs.
"Let's begin the interrogation," Agent Bronze pulls out a notepad. Soleum breathes deeply and gulps. It seems that the dust in his mind kicked up and swirled with memories of happiness. He braces himself.
"Where is your home?"
Soleum stills. "Why are you suddenly asking about that?"
"... I was told you value your home greatly."
By whom? Ah. Alp– Agent Choi. Agent Choi is the only person who knows and must've told Bronze. Soleum is no fool to how close the two men are, they've known, trusted, each other far longer than the omega. They're even married. They must've planned this since the beginning... Bronze must've told Agent Choi about his suspicions since the start...
'Foolish Soleum.' He blinks away tears that build up.
"Should I just tell you where I live?" he responds evenly.
"That's not your home, is it? We've investigated your motel and confirmed that you had no personal belongings within that space. The only things that belong to you are your few, meager clothes."
Not even a nest-- Soleum supplies mentally. No wonder he fell for them so quickly; he was starving.
"That is not your home, and you made it that way intentionally. There was never an application for Bureau-sanctioned housing. Why is that, inmate 37-999? Where is home?"
Soluem clenches his jaw to prevent it from wobbling and revealing a truth.
"You do not need to answer what I ask next, however, please understand that this conversation is between you and me. It will be neither recorded nor documented. I am the only one who will hear it."
How cruel. Lured into a false sense of safety since the start. He trembles in his seat, heart wavering in intense longing. He raises his head, eyes doused in sadness and hope. The glass prison only allows truths from those detained– he knows this, yet his mind deludes from hope that this is also true for those outside of it. The records only show interrogation experiences of prisoners, not questioners. So there's no way of confirming.
He raises his head and their eyes meet. Agent Bronze lowers the documents and notepad in hand and his voice fills Soleum's space with familiar monotones, "I've never had one since the beginning," and proceeds to share details he was never privy to in the records from childhood in an orphanage, to his start at the government agency, to the bookstore, to... Hyeonmu Team 1, to Agent Choi, and to Soleum.
Soleum lowers his head.
"When I think of home, I think of Hyeonmu Team 1 waiting room, my room in the house I share with my husband, and my people..."
Soleum envisions it, home as Agent Bronze describes, more vivid than home before this world, and he feels shaken.
"Which is why I want to ask you this... Agent Grapes, is your home no longer in this world?" with an unspoken, lingering 'like mine.'
This time the omega wasn't bound in cuffs or a straitjacket when they felt his mental state was at risk, he was free to lie... yet he, filled with emotions of hope, longing, and intimacy, answered in a half-truth, "Yes."
Holding onto the feeling, Agent Bronze continues, "at Daydream? Is your nest there and why you want to go back?" Resentment towards Daydream rears its head in this questioning.
"It... it's a bit different, it--," he cuts himself off, "I want to return to my home."
"You cannot return to a place that no longer exists. Do not let them manipulate you to believe this and use you for their own gains."
Soleum keeps his mouth shut, and his gaze holds the other's.
"Can't you make your own home?" Bronze pleads with an unspoken, lingering implication, 'with me?,' "like me?"
Soleum feels confused, sensitive, fragile, unsteady. Why did it feel like he implied that he wanted a home with me? It-- it's another trick, isn't it? ...Isn't it?
"Find a comfortable place, make a nest, meet good people, sleep with a peace of mind... make your home," a pause holds his breath and leaves Soleum reeling.
"Just... please consider it. Can you do that?"
Afraid to heed the call that wants to move his hand and touch the glass wall, touch his alpha, he forces his hand to smooth his pants, the rough fabric grounding his wavering mind as he nods. The glass wall reflected nothing– truth.
A loving, gentle smile spreads the alpha's lips. "Good omega," he whispers.
Twitching, Soleum fights the way his body tries to arch and preen, but can't stop how his eyes flutter at the praise, starving for his pack as the ghost of their scents tickle his nose.
"That includes our interrogation today." The man steps back with a heated gaze, "Get some real rest tonight, eat and sleep well."
He's hit with disorientation, 'What just... happened?'
He can't deny that whatever it was, it worked, yet he feels light and calm.
"I'll be your assigned interrogator from now on, so there will be no more harsh techniques. I can provide anything you need as long as they aren't prohibited or dangerous," his deep voice rumbles and settles in the omega's hollow chest, "so wait for me and be good. Can you do that, sweetheart?"
Soleum's fingers grip the fabric of his pants, breath stuttering, eyes dazed, as he nods sluggishly. Tension leaves his body after long days, maybe weeks of stress. Exhaustion sets his bones, and he stifles a soul-deep yawn.
"And this... is a personal question," the alpha hesitates, "do you... resent Agent Choi?"
Cold– his body overtaken by a shivering freeze.
"I understand if you do. As soon as your binding was released, you were abruptly transferred to prison with no prior discussion with anyone," frustration and anger seep into his tone.
A whine tears out of his throat before he can stop it, as the memory of the last time he saw Agent Choi was so... cold and painful. Grimacing, he stares at Agent Bronze, who met his eyes as soon as he whined. He's caught off guard in his softest, most vulnerable moment, but now he's aware, ramrod straight with a sharp pain in his chest.
Was that another technique? Every millisecond before his imprisonment flashed behind his eyes: his own actions, guilt, regret, self-blame, resignation, betrayal– all hurling at him with the force of a typhoon. Panting, he screws his eyes shut.
Instantaneously, Agent Bronze looks regretful of his actions and reaches a hand out uselessly, instinctively.
"...Sweetheart–"
Soleum takes a deep breath in before releasing a heavy sigh, "No." The glass wall stays clear– truth.
"I see...," Agent Bronze hesitates. Kim Soleum opens his eyes, distancing himself from this reality, and waits for another question.
A long pause passes between them, and Soleum finds his attention slipping away before agent Bronze announces, "...I'll be back tomorrow," and footsteps are heard leaving the outside space into the mist beyond the glass wall.
Clenching his eyes shut proves ineffective from stopping the few tears that escape as soon as he's alone, and he releases a shaky breath. After getting in bed and burying under the sterile, scentless, thin, and rough covers, he cries silently. He feels the dokkaebi move a small, phantom hand to rub his back, and he whimpers as small as he can.
'I want to go home...' He pictures Hyeonmu team 1's waiting room with elder, agent Bronze and agent Choi– he shakes his head and stops himself from going down that path. He can't let himself be confused or fall for their tricks. His home is still there and perfectly fine. He can't make any more mistakes.
By the time his next meal comes, his breath is steady and slow, heartbeat normal, sharp pains in his chest are irregular, and occasionally a few tears shed from empty eyes. The meal is something simple and nourishing-- seolleongtang with side dishes of light seasoning such as bean sprouts, radishes, spinach, dried anchovies, and an egg. He sits at the small table and metal chair and picks at his food with sluggish movements; his chopsticks miss the mark every few attempts, and he focuses in and out of awareness with tear-blurred vision. He sips the broth slowly, chews with even less vigor than before Agent Bronze took over, and takes small sips of barley tea.
Sighing, his arms feel heavy and empty. He picks at other side dishes before he catches something with his chopsticks and eats it. He reaches with his right– ah... it's gone still... the dokkaebi hasn't been charged... he places his chopsticks down and climbs back into bed, leaving his meal nearly untouched. Sleep doesn't come easily and rest is fitful and interrupted.
The next time he wakes is similar to a small portioned samgyetang, probably in regard to how much he hasn't eaten in his entire time in the glass walls. Same as the last time he was awake, his tears continued to shed as he slept evidenced by his damp pillow. Soleum has no appetite; he picks slowly at his food. Everything hurts. He feels dizzy, lightheaded... and not here.
'Home...' It's starting to feel like a warm embrace, a towering and larger figure, and the scent of fresh laundry... a scarred hand in his, kisses on his face, and blue. Despondent, he sits on the bed and stares into the mist beyond the glass, waiting for anyone to fill the space. The dokkaebi flame rests in his lap, keeping him company. He wishes he can hug it. Instead, he reaches for his large pink bunny plush, the stand-in for his good friend that's been sitting in the corner of the bed waiting to be held.
It's softer than anything he's touched in a long time.
He stares at his lap, distracted by the flame dancing and fails to recognize the footsteps he wanted to hear when a rumbling tone fills the silence, "Inmate 37-999."
Lifting his eyes to meet Agent Bronze's, the other inhales sharply as soon as he sees that red-rimmed, empty gaze– even more pronounced than a few days ago, and shining with unshed tears. Gaunt and pale. The omega is in a worse condition than the last time they talked. Like a puppet with loose, old strings, following the same old routine, Soleum props himself up and drags his chair to the middle of the glass ball while the dokkaebi follows behind.
The meal was absent from the table. 'What time is it? What day is it? ...It doesn't matter.'
"Sweetheart...," Agent Bronze hesitates, and the omega meets his gaze once again. It's complex, more so than Soleum has the bandwidth for. All he does is pet the soft rabbit plush held against his stomach.
"What would make you feel better right now, sweetheart?"
Home... fresh laundry...soft sheets, towering figure... embrace... "hug," he whispers so softly it can't even project to the other side.
"One more time," Agent Bronze encourages.
"Hug," he says louder, still soft and dazed, "...please?"
Alpha's expression falls and he closes his eyes with furrowed brows, "I can't do that right now, baby, not until you're out."
"Oh," Soleum nods and looks down, petting the soft pink plush.
"If... If you answer my questions, then you can come out, and I'll give you a big, warm hug."
He wants it... he wants it a lot. Anything to stop the pain, the loneliness– anything. He feels weak and so far away. Unable to smell anything besides food and unable to nest. His senses scream at him.
The man offers, "And then we can go eat the meal we had before with agen–, when we celebrated your first mission. Okay?"
"Okay." The glass shows nothing– truth.
"Good omega," the alpha says, but this time Soleum blinks slowly, holding the praise behind closed eyes, before opening them to Agent Bronze, who holds back anxiousness and desperation from bursting out.
Agent Bronze notifies when the recording starts and begins to ask questions that reveal Soleum's life. Each question takes more prompting, probing and patience from the interrogator as the subject remains disoriented to time, space, and conversation. Interrogator observes flat affect of subject while subject explains about contamination and previous work experiences. The further the interrogation proceeds reveals personal stories, character, fear of supernatural disasters, and relief and sense of reward felt when rescuing civilians which are all delivered with soft-spokenness, mumbles, little details shared only when prompted, and poor articulation.
Then the agent ends the interrogation and stops recording.
"Someone will come get you and take you to the waiting room while I submit these. I'll come get you after. Wait for me, alright?"
With a rasp, voice exhausted and used more than it has been in the last few weeks, he says, "Okay," and clutches the rabbit plush to his chest.
A long time passes, enough to be noticeable even in his limbo state. Absent-mindedly, he stays on the metal chair until someone comes to his glass marble and releases him. The person provides him with a fresh set of clothes, his belongings, and a box of rough tissues. Soleum goes to the changing room to put on his new clothes, tuck his good friend into his pocket, and clutch the larger rabbit plush to his chest before going out.
[Friend...] Braun's voice projects sadly.
'Braun,' he smiles softly. 'I missed you.'
Then he's escorted to the waiting room to be picked up by Agent Bronze. The hoodie that he wears smells like fresh laundry, sea, rain, wood, and greenery– a mix of two alphas– and engulfs his frame to where the sleeves reach and cover his palms, but it doesn't stop him from petting his plush. With nothing to do, he closes his eyes and rests his chin on the soft cotton head. Surprisingly, Braun doesn't comment on his replacement.
The click of metal and creak of a door roused him from his light nap. He doesn't finish blinking away sleep and tears from his eyes before he's held in a firm hug, nose pressed to the alpha's soothing scent of sea, steel, and rain. Ryu Jaekwan noses along Kim Soleum's scent glands and silently curses at the distinct lack of scent other than a faint tell of despair. He cradles the back of the omega's neck and massages the scent glands to coax them back to normal and regain a sense of safety. Glass prisons didn't allow for scents, heats or any instinctual needs, and for an omega... his body would be struggling to regain what was lost and when it does, it would hit hard. The sooner Kim Soleum's dynamic returns to normal, the less it will hurt. It's a rare occurrence that an omega would be imprisoned and due to the nature of the glass prisons only a handful of omegas have been documented leaving them...and none recovered as typically seen by betas or alphas. Instead, their hormones spike within the next month to rebalance what was absent, making the omegas sick, feverish, nauseous, and in the worst case, a debilitating, unforgiving heat that's described by one account as "worse than the first time they presented." The most lingering effects that all the omegas recount are the everlasting despondence, despair, and distress. If the omega doesn’t recover... he would be out of commission for the unforeseeable future.
Releasing calming pheromones, Jaekwan continues massaging Soleum's glands while gently shushing any whimpers from soreness and pain.
He sighs with relief when there's a bit more of a fruity, red wine scent that returns, albeit barely. Nothing close to the full dessert wine scent he's grown accustomed to. Feeling deep breaths against the dampness on his skin, he pulls back from the embrace and finds the omega deeply asleep and standing only because hes leaning onto the alpha. Relieved yet anguished that hes finally getting some rest, Ryu Jaekwan carries the omega in his arms to Hyeonmu Team 1's waiting room, knowing that the other alpha is out on a mission he took voluntarily after yesterday's conversation and the many fights they've had since the omega's imprisonment... Ryu Jaekwan kisses Soleum's forehead as he walks down the halls, ignoring all the glances thrown his way.
When he gets into the room, he opens the curtain to reveal the glass window and soft sunlight while he sits on the couch next to it. Propping Kim Soleum in his lap, he readies a cup of water with a straw for the omega and shakes him gently. "Soleum-ah, drink some water." Kim Soleum whines and buries his wet face into Ryu Jaekwan's shoulder. The alpha smiles with exasperation before placing the straw to the omega's mouth, "Just a few sips, baby."
Kim Soleum, half-asleep, sips the straw and finishes the cup of water, breathing deeply while pressing his face back into Ryu Jaekwan's shoulder. After placing the cup on the table with buckwheat jelly, the alpha studies Kim Soleum's features, taking note of the dark circles, red-rimmed eyes, sunken cheeks, dry lips, and paler-than-usual skin before pressing another kiss to his forehead.
The small dokkaebi flame bounces around the glass window and the curtains flutter as if responding to the flame. Ryu Jaekwan feels rather than hears an old weary sigh and closes his eyes. Fingers curl into his shirt, fingers that latch on to it as soon as he embraces the omega after entering the waiting room. His only hope is that Soleum can recover healthily from this and return to the shining star that he knows. His heart stings; an abandonment from Daydream that Jaekwan criticized highly only to turn out this way by his husband's obligation to duty and impulse decision. The omega's ejection from Daydream changed him from a daring, confident, and sociable man and left him shy, stuttering, and withdrawn... What will become of Soleum this time? He hopes that yesterday's conversation with Choi was enough of a wake-up call for the other alpha to get moving on how to make it up with the omega. Not that the man was unaware of what he did and how it affects them all. He was, afterall, the first to fight to interrogate Kim Soleum no matter how many times the request was rejected. The only reason Jaekwan's request was approved was because of the initial interrogator's recommendation.
After his talk with Soleum, Jaekwan returned to Hyeonmu Team 1's room where his husband waited for him with anxious anticipation. As soon as he opened the door and stepped inside, the other man sprang up from the couch.
Choi hesitated, "Jaekwan-ah...How's–"
Ryu Jaekwan sighed, "Not good," he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "He's so frail and thin. Even when he looked me in the eyes, he seemed so far away." His voice trembled recounting the conversation.
"And when I asked about how he feels about you he–" Ryu Jaekwan flicked his eyes to meet Choi's before looking away, hesitating.
Agent Choi nodded, encouraging the other to continue.
"He withdrew."
Choi clenched his fist before taking a deep breath and pressing his palm to the other's cheek. "Jaekwan-ah," etched with sadness, regret, and pain in his expression, he said, "I'll fix this. I-I promise."
Hoping there's a way back from this, Jaekwan nodded and held the other's hand to his cheek.
A knock raps at the door, removing him from his memories, and an agent steps in to notify that he's needed elsewhere and to further discuss the results of his questioning. Sighing, he looks down at Soleum, sleeping peacefully and confirms with the agent that he will go shortly after the other. After the agent leaves, Ryu Jaekwan places the omega across the couch and sets a blanket over him that's been scented by the three of them many times, but by now, the scent of Soleum has faded. Before he leaves, he bows deeply to the window and fluttering curtains, "Please watch over him, Elder."
The small dokkaebi flame hops into the window, and when Ryu Jaekwan stands from his bow, he sees a small arm from the window holding its thumb up. Smiling, he rushes out of the room and spares one last glance behind him at the sleeping figure.