“I’m not worth all this effort Minho. I’m breaking down.” Kibum muttered, voice breaking as his skin threatened to tear before Minho’s eyes, the flesh not strong enough to hold itself together. “Can’t you see? Our creators were right. I’m nothing.”

 

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you ever listen to them! You’re perfect, do you understand?” Minho hissed, hauling the fellow experiment to his feet and then into his arms, carrying him in his arms too strong to be human. “I’ll get you out of here, Kibummie and then… well I don’t know.” He admitted, using his shoulder to push open the door to the laboratory where they had been created. “I’ll find someone who can stabilise your enzymes. Finish off what these idiots couldn’t.”

 

The hallways of the university science building echoed with gunfire and shouts, the crumbling government eager to rid the building of any witnesses to the experiments they had paid to be performed. Now that the world was questioning them, any blemish would throw what was left of civilisation to be thrown into chaos. The university itself had been abandoned for a long time, left to become overgrown by vegetation, wood to rot from the weather. Fifteen years after martial law had been declared across the world they realised that even though their one goal was to keep humanity alive, to keep civilisation thriving, humanity was indeed failing. The population plummeted as the public rioted and fought against the law.

 

So, the single figurehead that looked over the world, mad with power and certain that the sciences could save them, set up secret facilities in abandoned spots across the globe, bribing the greatest scientists to create a new breed of human, one that would obey blindly and were stronger than any man alive. What they got though, were genetically modified embryos, raised in test tubes until born at prime age.

 

Minho had opened his eyes to a dying world, and worse yet, Kibum had been born dying.

 

He was what was considered one of the “failed experiments”. To their credit, the scientists had tried to save him, tried to find a way to rebind his cells to make him whole again, but their efforts had been in vain.

 

While Minho wasn’t sure if Kibum could ever be saved, he would be damned if the man he adored, the man who clung to him with a desperation to live despite his words, would die without him even trying to find another way.

 

“Stop right where you are!”

 

On reflex, his genetic hardwiring noting the voice of authority, Minho halted in his steps, skidding a little on the smooth tile floor. Lights fixed on them, casting their shadow on the wall in front of them, Kibum’s trembling visible even there.

 

“Sir… we’ve found two of the lab’s experiments. What do you want me to do?”

 

The radio the soldier had spoken into crackled as a response was given.

 

“Dispose of them.”

 

Minho’s feet were like lightning as he sprinted, darting around the corner just as gunfire tore at the wall that had previously cast their silhouette. If possible, he held Kibum closer, practically flying down the stair well, somehow able to avoid all gunshots fired at them, until the ground floor.

 

He came to another grinding halt, met with over a dozen soldiers all waiting for them with guns raised, lights blinding from the top of gun mounted trucks.

 

“Kibum-ah…” Minho whispered, tears forming in his eyes, the reality of their certain demise settling deep in his chest. “I love you, you know that, right?”

 

The smaller, weaker experiment couldn’t help but smile, raising a shaking hand to cup Minho’s cheek. “Yeah, I know.” He replied, the way his eyes stared so softly expressing more than any words ever could.

 

What Minho didn’t know, was that while Kibum would surely die from the issued onsite execution, he was the exact opposite of Kibum. His genetic makeup had been perfect since the beginning, a success from the scientists who were now all dead. Because of this, he would pass out from the blood loss, but he would be destined to wake alone and afraid, Kibum’s cold body still in his arms.

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

Minho watched with worried eyes as Kibum was injected with another serum. While the scientists assured that it wouldn’t be the last, it was enough to keep Kibum’s vitals from dropping for a week or so, enough time for them to concoct another serum that could be the last.

 

It was always the same. There was never a sure fire way to keep Kibum alive indefinitely.

 

“You’re making that face again.” Kibum commented, his voice a little hoarse as it always was. He reached out with one hand from his wheelchair. The young man had never been able to walk and relied on the chair to move around the facility – which they were allowed to do simply because keeping them confined had proved to cause trouble.

 

Getting down from the table he sat on, Minho accepted Kibum’s hand, holding the fragile fingers gently in his palm. “What face?”

 

Kibum gave him a knowing look. “The one you get whenever I get treated. The puppy dog eyes.” He elaborated. “You don’t need to worry so much, you know.”

 

“I always worry about you.” Minho muttered, using his free hand to cup Kibum’s gaunt cheek.

 

Although Kibum offered him a smile, he knew the other was upset. They’d had the conversation many times before and Kibum had made it clear that he didn’t want Minho to be so attached, concerned that when he died – because there was no doubt that he would sooner than later – Minho wouldn’t be able to cope. It was the last thing he wanted, to leave the world knowing that Minho was suffering. “Let’s go for a walk?”

 

Nodding, Minho walked behind Kibum and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, pushing Kibum out of the room and into the hallway. They weren’t by any means the only experiments in the facility – which had previously been a university – but each and every person made by the scientists were incredibly important, or so they had been told. The aspect of freedom they were given was to prove that they were still treated like human beings, no matter their condition.

 

Outside it was more obvious that the world wasn’t what it had been once upon a time. While they had never lived in it, some of the senior scientists who treated them had and they told the most wonderful stories. Of how green the grass used to be, flowers and trees growing naturally all over the countryside, of schools and cafés and birds. The world had been a wonderful place, but it had been thrown into turmoil so long ago it was hard to believe there were any human’s left.

 

There was a small garden near the facility though, a greenhouse previously used and tended to by the students who had attended the university. It wasn’t as nice as it used to be, or so they’d been told, but it was better than the cold walls of the facility they had been born to.

 

Kibum reached out for one of the flowers, the stem weak but holding firm, sniffing the flower which was only slightly bloomed. “It’s so nice here.”

 

“We can stay as long as you like.” Minho assured him, wanting nothing more than for Kibum to be happy.

 

Even though he knew one day Kibum wouldn’t be around anymore, the smile he gave, looking up at Minho with adoring eyes, was more than worth the heartbreak he was sure would come.

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

Minho cried out as he sat up, suddenly wide awake though tender all over. The room was only dimly lit, the walls and ceiling dirt covered from years of being left in disrepair and there was a foul kind of smell like there was wood and plant matter rotting nearby. He was lying on a bed that was small and uncomfortable for the most part, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

 

There was a voice nearby, commenting on the fact that he was awake before there was a door opening and closing as the person left the room.

 

Just as he’d looked over he’d seen the voice belonged to a young man, not much older than a teenager, but his vision wasn’t the best at that moment so he couldn’t get a good look at his face before he was gone. With a groan, Minho slowly sat up, but only got half way there as a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. Gingerly touching the area of his stomach, Minho realised that he was shirtless except for the many bandages wrapped firmly around his body. The bandages were a little dirty aside from the blood that stained them and he tried not to think about where they originally came from, knowing it was better that they were helping him heal.

 

But he couldn’t recall why he was injured or where he was or why his heart felt so empty, like there was something missing.

 

When the young man returned there was an older man with him, both looking like the clothes they wore weren’t a perfect fit, both a little dirty as if they hadn’t had a good wash for a long time, both looked like they had seen the worst of the world. What Minho noticed the most though, was that they both had guns strapped to their thighs, the sight of weapons unusual for him and for some reason, they frightened him.

 

“I’m surprised you made it.” The older man commented, looking Minho straight in the eyes, analysing him.

 

Minho just frowned at the man, trying to analyse him in return. “I don’t understand.”

 

Eyebrows raised in question as the younger spoke up. “You don’t remember being shot? Multiple times?”

 

“Taemin, maybe you should go check on the food caches.” The older man suggested, giving him a stern look that even told Minho it was an order, not a request.  Pouting a little, the younger man did as he was told and left, closing the door behind him. “I apologise. He’s impulsive.”

 

“He wasn’t wrong though, I assume.” Minho commented, staring down at his torso. “It’s why I’m bandaged up.”

 

Nodding, the man sat on the chair beside the door. “Yes. But you were still alive even with all of those bullets in you. All we had to do was remove the bullets, patch you up and let you heal. It makes me wonder who you are, especially for you to survive such an assault.”

 

Suddenly Minho remembered the bright lights, the gunfire, the blood, the screams for help, the weight in his arms. But he couldn’t remember what the weight was. “They just started shooting everybody…” He muttered, staring at the ground.

 

“Yes, we heard. At first we thought they were coming for us, but we never expected that they would attack the university, or why they would.” The man said. “But then I remembered all those rumours that went around several years ago about the government creating more than one facility and after seeing those labs it all started to make sense. You’re one of those genetic experiments.”

 

Even if he didn’t know what intentions the man had, Minho shifted back on the bed as far as he could, his back hitting a wall. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“I never said you did.” The man assured him. “You didn’t ask to be made and you certainly didn’t ask to be killed in such a way. Neither did your friend. But that doesn’t make what the government is doing the right thing.”

 

Minho frowned, confused. “Friend?”

 

“Whoever he is to you, you shielded him pretty well, most of the bullets missed him entirely.” The man commented. “But he’s still not doing so well. Hasn’t even woken up yet.”

 

His bottom lip began to tremble as more and more memories flooded back to him, his dream melding with them, remembering the weight in his arms, remembering why he felt so empty inside.

 

Kibum. Where was Kibum?

 

“Where is he?” Minho demanded. “I have to see him!”

 

“You aren’t well enough to walk yet. And I’m not about to let you wander the hallways when I don’t know if you’re a danger to my people.”

 

“I’m not.” Minho insisted, desperate to get through to this man. “Kibum is dying. He is one of the failed experiments so his enzymes aren’t stable. He’ll literally disintegrate; no medical assistance can save him. Please, he’s all I have left!”

 

For a moment Minho thought the man would just leave, ignoring his words and locking him in, but instead, he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Okay. I’ll have someone bring a wheelchair for you.”

 

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

 

The younger man, Taemin, was the one who brought the wheelchair and held it steady as the older man – who had since introduced himself as Jinki – helped Minho into it. Out in the hallways it was obvious that they had done all they could to make the spaces as liveable as possible. There were families there, children playing games that required no toys, teenagers using worn playing cards, adults looking weary but using a brave face. It was a part of the world he hadn’t seen before and it not only stunned him, but it made him realise how ignorant he had been his whole life – even if it had only been three years since he’d awakened for the first time.

 

“You’re all suffering.” He commented.

 

“We get by.” Jinki replied.

 

“I never knew.”

 

“You were sheltered, there’s no shame in that.” Jinki assured him.

 

All was silent between them after that and Minho tried not to make eye contact with anyone as he was pushed through the halls, feeling their gaze settle on him from all directions. It made him feel uneasy, being scrutinised, judged. He knew they all were, whether they knew what he was or not.

 

At the infirmary, Minho rushed from his chair when he spotted Kibum lying motionless on one of the three beds in the room, a heart monitor in place – showing Kibum’s heartrate wasn’t regular but was still constant, tubes running from all over, and bandages wrapped around his torso which was otherwise bare beside the sheet from his waist down. On his temple was a smaller bandage, blood just seeping through the fabric. “Kibum.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch his face, the skin even more fragile than it had been when he’d last seen him. “I’m here, Kibum.”

 

“You said that he was unstable.” Jinki said, stepping into the room and standing by the foot of Kibum’s bed.

 

Minho nodded. “Very.”

 

“And the scientists who made you, they couldn’t save him?”

 

“They tried everything, but none of the treatments they tried ever took hold.” Minho explained, hoping that in sharing the information there would be some kind of mutual trust. “And he was so strong. Always assuring me that things would be okay, that he would be fine.” Feeling tears threatening, Minho closed his eyes and very gently kept Kibum’s hand in his own. “I had hoped that I could find someone who might save him, someone who knew something our scientists did not, but… I don’t think such a person exists.”

 

Jinki hummed, gaining Minho’s attention, staring in confusion. “There may actually be someone.”

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

When the man walked into the infirmary, Minho only slightly turned his head to assess the potential threat, but upon seeing that Jinki was with him, turned his attention back to Kibum who was still barely breathing, his heartrate monitor still beeping the constant irregular rhythm of Kibum’s heartbeat. He was back in his wheelchair, but refused to leave Kibum’s side despite both Jinki and Taemin insisting that he rest more in his room.

 

“Minho, I would like to introduce Jonghyun.” Jinki said. Minho looked up for a moment, nodding to be polite, then setting his gaze on Kibum once again. “Jonghyun, this is Minho. And the patient is Kibum. He’s like you.”

 

At hearing this, Minho’s interest was successfully captured and he stared between Jinki and Jonghyun with wide eyes. “What?”

 

Jonghyun smiled a little, waving a little in greeting. “I was an experiment once upon a time. But I was more self-aware, less compliant. And a failure. My body began to break down. So I was not only useless as a mindless soldier, but my body was also unusable. My scientists liked me though; they set me free to stop the less lenient soldiers from killing me.” He explained, a sheepish smile on his face. “But as an embryo I was given the gift of scientific knowledge beyond that of a regular human.”

 

“He has been a great asset to our growing family.” Jinki added, hand on Jonghyun’s shoulder. “I’ve been speaking with him and he thinks that with the supplies we gathered from the university facility he may be able to find a way to cure Kibum.”

 

Minho was on his feet in and instant, stumbling on his weak legs, not minding that Jonghyun stepped forward to help him get his balance. “Are you telling the truth? Can you?” He pleaded.

 

“I was able to find a way to strengthen my enzymes, but I don’t know yet what is causing Kibum’s to be weak. I will do what I can.” Jonghyun promised. “But I may fail.”

 

“If you can try, I will be more than grateful.”

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

Kibum woke up once before the new serum was created, opening bleary eyes and finding Minho without a delay. “Am I… dead?” He asked, voice still so hoarse and sickly.

 

“No.” Minho replied, blinking away tears, squeezing Kibum’s hand as he stood to lean over him, so Kibum didn’t have to force his voice. “You’re alive, my love. You’re alive.”

 

“H-how?” Kibum breathed, disbelief in his voice.

 

Minho was shaking his head before he replied. “I don’t know, but Kibum, there’s a person here. He’s finding a cure for you. You could be saved, Bummie.” He whispered excitedly.

 

“And you’re alive.” Kibum noted with a wide smile, reaching with his free hand, fingertips brushing over Minho’s lips.

 

And then he fell back to sleep.

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

Taemin visited often, and if Minho was being honest, he was a little intimidated by the way he spoke to him. Sometimes the young man brought food for him, offered to watch Kibum, almost anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the company, but there was a way Taemin looked at him that made him feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe it was that he wasn’t used to anyone but Kibum looking at him like that.

 

Still, he tried his best to ignore it, hoping that Taemin would just get over whatever he’d gotten into his head.

 

“He’s really beautiful.” Taemin commented, gazing at Kibum’s face with a kind of longing that caused Minho’s fingers to tighten just slightly on Kibum’s. “Do you think they modified his DNA so he’d look like that?”

 

“I don’t know.” Minho replied. Whether they looked good or not wasn’t what the scientists really cared about. It was their general genetics that mattered.

 

“Do you think they modified your DNA so you’d be as gorgeous as you are?” Taemin asked.

 

Minho tried to let it pass, but he couldn’t reply in a way that would give away how uncomfortable the question made him. The only reason that stopped him was that it hadn’t taken Minho long to realise that people became desperate for contact and would latch onto anyone who may give them the contact they crave. Being so young, Taemin just didn’t know how to be subtle about it.

 

“Taemin. That’s enough.” Both turned to see Jinki standing in the doorway of the infirmary, giving Taemin a stern look. “Go and finish your chores and let Kibum rest.”

 

Although he mumbled in response, Taemin left without a complaint. Minho wished he’d been able to hold in the relieved breath he let out.

 

“I’m sorry about him. He uh... he lost someone dear to him just a few months ago.” Jinki explained. “Anyone new who comes by is like the new replacement in his eyes. I’ll have a better word to him about showing respect to a person who is obviously already in love with someone else.”

 

Minho’s eyes widened, opening his mouth with a long prepared excuse of denial.

 

Jinki stopped him though, shaking his head with a smile. “It’s more obvious than you think. And don’t worry, we don’t care about who loves who here.”

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

“I can’t promise that it will work.” Jonghyun reminded Minho, slowly administering the serum into Kibum’s drip. “And if it does, it may not work for several days, or even weeks. I slept for over a week before I woke up again.” He explained. There was a pause for a moment before he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I should also let you know that this serum could very well kill him.”

 

Minho nodded, watching Kibum carefully. “He’d die without it anyway.”

 

“Now that he’s got a cure in him, maybe you should rest now?” Jinki suggested. “You’ve been sitting here for over a week.”

 

“I’ll leave him when he’s cured or dead. Not a moment before.” Minho stated.

 

Jonghyun chuckled, patting Minho’s shoulder. “Successful experiments are always the most loyal. Don’t worry, Jinki. He’ll be fine. He’s not exactly human, remember?”

 

They left them then, the silence of the otherwise empty infirmary almost deafening, the only sound coming from Kibum’s heartrate monitor.

 

With all of his determination, Minho prepared himself for disappointment, but reminded himself that Kibum was stronger than any other person he had ever met. He was sure to live. But Kibum had always warned him to be prepared for his death. It was a strange contrast for Minho. He had a competitive spirit that Kibum had always said would get him into trouble one day, he always wanted victory.

 

At this point the only victory he wanted was for Kibum to pull through. It was the only thing that mattered.

 

 

……………………………………………….

 

 

Minho had fallen asleep at Kibum’s bedside, arms folded, head resting on his forearms, his wounds healed completely now, sitting in a regular chair. It had been a long week waiting for Kibum to wake up, and before that, over two weeks. Minho had barely left the infirmary since he’d entered it and even though Jinki and Taemin had both tried their best to persuade Minho to leave, he continued to refuse, not wanting to be out of the room should something happen to Kibum – be it bad or good.

 

“You’re too dedicated, Minho. You might just make yourself sick.” Kibum muttered, his voice a little hoarse, but sounding clearer than it ever had in his life.

 

Minho could feel the slender fingers carding through his hair, stronger than he’d ever felt them. He slowly raised his head, unsure of what he would find when he opened his eyes.

 

His dearest love was looking upon him with eyes glistening with tears, his skin taut, no longer looking like he was so ill he could fall apart any moment. He looked like he should have always looked. Minho’s lips trembled as he sobbed, sniffling as he launched himself into Kibum’s arms which were held open for him. His embrace was warm, firm and more comforting than any words could ever hope to be. “You’re alive.” Minho whispered, elated and laced with disbelief. “You’re really alive!”

 

Kibum’s hold on him tightened as Minho cried, unable to hold back his own tears as he cried quietly against the side of Minho’s head. “Yeah. I-I’m alive. I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.”

 

“I didn’t do anything.” Minho said, raising up to look into Kibum’s eyes. Then, he didn’t know what made him do it so suddenly as it was something they had never done, Kibum’s skin too fragile, Minho leaned in and touched lips to his. Kibum gasped softly, fingers finding their way into Minho’s hair, head tilting just so to deepen the kiss in an instant.

 

Just for a moment, for a small, perfect moment, everything was okay.

 

But then the ground shook violently, the building trembling as jets flew by so fast the explosions they caused almost masked their presence, and once again their world was thrown into turmoil.

 

 

 

 

This started as one drabble (the first part), but it gained a lot of attention so i continued it with a longer oneshot :)