Changjo stared at the empty bottom of his suitcase. Minsoo had told him to start packing so that they could be ready to leave at a moment's notice, but Changjo couldn't bring himself to do it. Since that September, the apartment had become his home. His heart ached at the thought of leaving it, and his throat went dry when he realized that he might never come back. In the past few weeks, Onew had been a frequent guest in the apartment. Together, he and the rest of the Systems (as well as Chunji) had pored over every last detail of the plan to bring the Cure to Korea. The only things that had yet to be finalized were their flights. Onew insisted that they had to leave and return at just the right times for everything to work. If they made even one mistake, the entire operation would be thrown into jeopardy and their lives would be in grave danger. Onew had been in contact with the leader of the rebels, a mysterious A System that he only referred to as "The Queen". Apparently, she had arranged for the Cure to be distributed to all effected countries by other Systems, but it was up to those in Minsoo's Compound to retrieve it from America. Changjo swallowed hard as the thought of the immense responsibility they faced washed over him once again. Onew was most worried about "The Dragon", the first and most powerful System ever made. The Dragon had evidently been showing an increased interest in Onew and his work, making it harder for him to focus on his Rebel duties. Onew had a feeling that The Dragon suspected something, and every time that Onew came to the apartment he looked more and more worn down. Changjo felt sorry for him, but his own fears allowed him to think of little else than the looming task before them. 

xxx

Byunghun sat curled up in the windowsill of his bedroom, gazing out at the cold rain that fell from the steel grey sky onto the deserted street seven stories below him. He agitatedly bit at a hangnail on his thumb, his mind far away. Ever since Onew had first announced that they would be making the trip to America, Byunghun's mind had been in constant turmoil. He couldn't decide what to do about Chunji. Should he let him stay here, unprotected and a possible target for the Project, or should be bring him on their risky mission, where at least Byunghun could watch out for him? Byunghun ripped off the loose skin on his finger with a grunt of annoyance. Blood pooled up in the crease between the pad of his thumb and his nail. He stuck his finger in his mouth and on it, the bitter taste of the Virus faintly tainting his tongue.

"Yep. I'm still dreaming, because there's no possible way that you could actually be your thumb," said Chunji groggily. Byunghun turned to face Chunji, who lay on the mattress blinking tiredly up at him. Byunghun managed a tense smile and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

"No, you're definitely awake," he replied, turning his face back to the chilly window. He heard the rustling of sheets as Chunji kicked off his blankets and sat up. 

"What's with you lately?" he asked, padding softly over to where Byunghun sat while ruffling some life into his flattened hair. Byunghun sighed and shook his head before answering.

"I don't know. I guess I've just been...thinking a lot lately, that's all." Chunji poked Byunghun's temple lightly.

"Wait, you can think?" Byunghun gently swatted his hand away. "That's news to me." 

"What am I going to do with you?" Byunghun murmured, shifting his eyes to rest on Chunji's face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, slightly taken aback. Chunji sat down next to Byunghun's feet, stretching out his long legs and crossing his arms. 

"I can't leave you here by yourself, but I can't take you with me either. It's too dangerous," Byunghun explained, shaking his head. 

"It's not up to you," Chunji said, though not unkindly, "it's my decision and mine alone. I'm going with you and the others. That's it." 

"I'm supposed to protect you!" Byunghun argued, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Chunji waved a hand at him dismissively.

"Then the obvious choice would be for me to go to America. You can't very well protect me by leaving me here," he reasoned. Byunghun ran a hand through his hair and sighed once more.

"I suppose you're right..."

"I am," Chunji said firmly, rising from his seat and turning to face Byunghun. He reached out and touched the other boy's face, softly grazing his long, graceful fingers beneath Byunghun's eyes. "You need to eat." Byunghun turned away, facing the window again. 

"I'm fine," he protested, fixing his attention to the rain.

"Stop being such a baby about this. We don't know when you'll have the opportunity to feed again. It's better to get it over with now than risk something bad happening later." Chunji grabbed one of Byunghun's wrists and pulled him reluctantly to his feet. After a moment's hesitation, Byunghun gently pushed on Chunji's shoulders so his back rested up against the wall. Standing slightly on his toes, he steadied himself by placing his hands on either side of Chunji's waist. A shiver ran down Chunji's spine as Byunghun's chilled breath hit his neck. He tilted his face to the side, the rain falling outside the window visible in his peripheral vision.

"Sorry," Byunghun mumbled. A moment later Chunji felt Byunghun's teeth sink slowly into his neck. His breath caught in his throat and his vision went blurry at the edges. His right hand gripped the back of Byunghun's shirt and his left held onto the corner made by the indentation of the windowsill. He could hear the rush of liquid as Byunghun drank his blood in slow, steady gulps. The pain in his neck burned like fire and his veins screamed for him to fight back. Chunji focused on the raindrops that slid down the glass. Several minutes slipped by before Byunghun pulled away, quickly the puncture wounds on Chunji's neck closed and then wiping the blood off of his lips with the back of his hand. Chunji sank slowly to the ground, his fast breaths slowly returning to normal. Byunghun crouched in front of him, eyeing him guiltily. 

"Do you feel okay?" he asked quietly, despite the euphoria of drinking Chunji's blood buzzing brightly in his brain. Chunji nodded meekly and smiled. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine in a few minutes." He patted the floor next to him, and Byunghun complied. As soon as he sat down, Chunji rested his head on Byunghun's shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed. It wasn't long before he was snoring softly.

xxx

Several days passed with no news from Onew. With each passing hour, Minsoo seemed to grow more and more anxious. He paced through the apartment restlessly, his pager clasped tightly in his hand and mistaking every noise for a knock at the door. Byunghun had taken to constantly biting at his nails, a habit Niel was finding increasingly difficult to tolerate, while Ricky made himself cry every few hours by convincing himself that The Dragon had found out about the Resistance and killed Onew.

Changjo, on the other hand, was fighting a different battle. The flurry of events following his release had kept his mind so busy that he hadn't had time to think of feeding. Now that each day was a seemingly endless cycle of waiting, his thoughts had plenty of time to wander and his desire for blood slowly began creeping back into his mind. However, Changjo was determined not to let the virus get the better of him. He decided to spend his spare time trying to help the others as best he could. When Ricky cried, Changjo made him laugh. When Minsoo paced the house in a nervous fervor, Changjo would make tea and force him to relax. He bought Niel a pair of earplugs and Byunghun a nail file from the convenience store a few blocks from the apartment (all while under Minsoo's supervision).

Hoya, Sungjong, and Dongwoo became almost constant house guests and assisted Changjo in cheering up the others. Together they watched movies, talked about girls, arm-wrestled, and other manly-ish things to try to keep everyone's spirits as light as possible. While laughter filled the apartment when they were there, as soon as they left the nervous silence returned, broken only by the sound of pacing.

xxx

The door had just closed behind Hoya when Ricky let out a shaky sigh and looked at Minsoo.

"Any news from Onew?" he asked, his eyes bright with hope but his face strained, ready for disappointment. Minsoo shook his head slightly, his mouth a tight, grim line. Ricky nodded slowly, whatever joy that had been in his face long gone. Without a word he got up and left the living room, and Changjo knew that he was about to cry again. Niel flopped down on the couch, burying his face in a pillow as Minsoo began his pacing. Byunghun and Chunji stared blankly at the TV, the vibrant colors of the screen reflected dimly in their glazed eyes. Changjo pushed himself up from his seat and strode to his bedroom, his mind buzzing with a sudden plan.    

He opened and shut the door as quietly as possible, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark. Ricky sat on his mattress, curled up in his usual sitting position. He quickly wiped his eyes when he saw Changjo and tried to sniff as nonchalantly as possible. It hurt Changjo to see his best friend like this. Gently he sat down beside Ricky, a small half-smile on his lips.

"Hey," he murmured, observing the redness of Ricky's eyes and the raw pain in his face.

"Hi," Ricky croaked before clearing his throat slightly. Changjo glanced down awkwardly at his hands, his heart speeding up slightly as he tried to plan how to approach what he was about to do. 

"Look, Ricky...I hate seeing you like this. You don't deserve to be so upset. So I was thinking...you know the connection that forms when I drink your blood? Well...I want to try something. I think it might make you feel better," he said quickly, not daring to look at Ricky's face for a reaction. There was a moment of silence before the other boy answered.

"Okay," he replied resignedly. Changjo's head snapped up in surprise. He hadn't expected Ricky to agree. With a slight nod he grabbed Ricky's right wrist and pulled it close to him. Changjo gently rolled up the sleeve of Ricky's shirt, exposing the pale skin and faint blue veins beneath. Slowly, he raised the other boy's hand up close to his mouth. He kept his eyes locked on Ricky as he bit into his wrist, a sudden rush of blood filling his mouth. Changjo ignored the taste and swallowed only out of necessity. Closing his eyes, he searched through his mind, looking for something, though he didn't know what. 

Then, he found it: a profound feeling of absolute sadness combined with a terrifying, heart-wrenching fear. Changjo knew that somehow he had tapped into Ricky's emotions. He focused as hard as he could on them, envisioned them as a long ream of cloth so light and so delicate it felt like water. In his mind's eye he grabbed onto the cloth and began pulling it away from Ricky, removing it from his spirit and taking it into himself through his blood. As soon as he felt no longer felt the silky substance of Ricky's thoughts, he pulled away. 

Changjo's hands trembled as he quickly the puncture wounds closed. His whole body was shaking, his hands most of all, and tears stung the back of his eyes. Changjo felt all of the desolation and misery that Ricky had been carrying with him, all of the stress and nerves and apprehension, every last uncomfortable feeling that had been haunting him for the past weeks. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to push the emotions back, storing them somewhere at the back of his mind where they wouldn't overwhelm him. It wasn't working. Vaguely he felt Ricky's hand on his shoulder, but that was the last thing he remembered before he plunged into darkness. 

xxx

"Changjo! Changjo, are you okay?" Ricky cried, his hand tightly gripping his friend's shoulder. Changjo slumped uselessly onto the mattress, the last tremors leaving his body. His chest rose and fell quickly, warm breaths tickling the back of Ricky's other hand. Ricky paused, his fingers slipping off of Changjo's arm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, guiltily relishing the feeling of an enormous weight being lifted off his shoulders. All the anxiety that had been plaguing him recently was gone. He gazed back down at Changjo, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Thank you," he whispered, gently brushing Changjo's hair out of his eyes. The latter nodded groggily, slowly blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision. He felt cold all over, inside and out. Changjo let his eyes slip closed again as he focused once more on pushing Ricky's emotions back, urging himself not to let them consume him. It was only when Ricky wrapped a blanket around him and began rubbing his back that Changjo realized he was shivering violently. His teeth chattered loudly in his skull, causing his already muddled head to pound.   

"How...do you...feel?" Changjo asked, barely getting the words out for all of his shaking.

"I'm fine, but you...are you okay?" Ricky replied, biting his lip in worry. Changjo was as pale as a sheet and trembling so much it looked like he was seizing. Despite that, he managed a lop-sided smile and nodded.

"Yeah. Don't worry about me. I just need a few minutes to adjust," he answered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. Ricky scooted off of the mattress and pulled Changjo closer to the top of it, resting his head on the pillow and piling more blankets on top of him. Changjo finally felt like he was gaining control of his thoughts and warmth was slowly creeping back into his body. Several minutes passed in silence as he let the last of Ricky's emotions slip to the back of his mind. He opened his eyes again and grinned at Ricky's panicked expression. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, propping himself up on one elbow.

"You looked like a ghost for a little while there," Ricky replied, allowing a smile to creep across his own face.

"Well no need to worry, I think my little fainting spell has passed," Changjo answered, sitting up completely and removing a few of his blankets. He didn't even have a chance to look back up before Ricky tackle-hugged him, pushing him back down onto the bed.

"Really, thank you," Ricky murmured into the other boy's hair, his arms locked tightly around Changjo.

"It's nothing, really," Changjo replied, clumsily patting Ricky's lower back, his arms mostly pinned to his sides.

Suddenly, a knock sounded from the front door. Both of them froze and looked at each other, their faces only a few inches apart.

"Onew?" Changjo breathed, but Ricky placed a finger to Changjo's lips to silence him. They waited for what seemed like an eternity for the sound of the door opening. There was a pause before a familiar voice floated through the air. 

"Minsoo, I am so so sorry I've been out of contact for so long, but there's not much time. The Dragon's probably on my trail. I just came by to drop of your plane tickets; you're leaving. Now."