Takes place somewhere after the epilogue.

A mentor once told him that one of the most frightening places to be stuck into is the suspension from uncertainty. Junhwe had thought his teacher was referring to the many life-endangering missions he would face as a spy, but he was told it wasn’t about that. Junhwe didn’t care to ask for an elaboration that time.

This time, Junhwe understands.

It’s starts with the destruction of confidence, of the 99 percent being overcome with the usually ignored 1 percent. Uncertainty starts to seep in then, but denials will try to hinder. No, it’s just a miscalculation. No, a lapse in intel can easily be fixed. No, a B rank solo mission shouldn’t be endangering to a top spy.

He asks Hanbin, he asks the tech staff, the intel agents. It shouldn’t happen, right? There should be a mistake. Back-up shouldn’t be so late. Where are they?

Then it becomes similar to a slow explosion when the unthinkable really happens. He watches the footage, frozen. He watches the replay; sees the gunshots exchanged and the assigned cargo triggering a blast, but he’s still in a trance. When Hanbin starts shouting and ordering for the rescue and retrieval to move faster, that’s when dread - the explosion in his mind, settles in. The next thing he knows, he’s running out of the headquarters and Hanbin gets them a car.

As they speed out through the roads to get to the hospital, alternative scenarios start converging to the real ones in his head. Since his brain is trained to calculate more than how an ordinary human does, it becomes much worse. He thinks of solutions, of the repercussions to the solutions, of how to solve those repercussions. His mind is juggling between denial and the onslaught of reality, as if he can’t quite accept it yet.

And when he finally sees with his own eyes, the love of his life heavily bloodied and unconscious and barely breathing, that’s when his mind starts to break. All calculations go haywire. If only, if only, if only.

Yet that’s only the first phase. The second phase starts when the people who should be giving him reassurances are also trapped in that suspension. Bobby is furious and can’t do anything but curse under his breath and stare at the floors of the hospital. Hanbin’s phone is stuck on his ear, demands to gather every information continuously leaving his mouth.

It escalates more when the doctors tell him all he could do is wait, that they’ll handle everything. But that’s the worst part. It’s the realization that he’s left out of options and waiting really is the only thing he could do. What are the use of his skills? What are the use of technology and having dozens to intel networks that could have prevented an anomaly to happen? And that moment of realization stretches like forever, suspending him mockingly between two outcomes.

Between life and death.

He waits for hours. After that, he waits for days. He refused to go back to their house because his home isn’t there. Within that period, terror comes in, magnifying the truth. This is the reality. Their reality. Life can be taken away so effortlessly by a sick twist of fate. What will Junhwe do? What will he do if Donghyuk really is taken away from him next time? He throws those questions away from his head, but his subconscious also pulls them back in. Again and again he thinks; the cruel cycle eating away his mind.

And even when good news is finally relayed to him, he can’t be relieved and happy as he knows he should be. Even when he’s pulled by Bobby and Hanbin inside the hospital room, and his eyes see the rise and fall of Donghyuk’s chest, Junhwe’s mind can still only grasp the injuries and the bandages wrapping around his husband’s body. Even when Donghyuk opens his eyes and reaches out for his hand, a very weak smile shown to him, the dreaded questions remain engraved in his head.

How about the future? What will he do when Donghyuk is permanently taken away from him?

***

Junhwe is avoiding him. That’s the only conclusion Donghyuk has after a week of staying home since his discharge from the hospital.

It’s not even like an obvious avoidance. Junhwe takes care of him, makes sure he eats, and sees to it that he takes prescription medicine on time. Junhwe is also the one who changes his bandages and bathes him when the pain from his most severe wound hinders him. They also talk and joke around like how they normally do.

Yet when he starts a conversation about the mission and what really happened there, Junhwe changes the subject and becomes eerily quiet.

Frankly, Junhwe’s getting on Donghyuk’s nerves. He suspects his spouse is having post-traumatic stress and he understands but as the days go by, the frustration he keeps on holding back just increases. Outwardly care is not what Donghyuk needs. He doesn’t need to be babied because he can do those things by himself with more effort. What he needs is Junhwe himself; his presence. Like how he knows Junhwe needs him.

Because as much as he tries to think otherwise, he doesn’t feel like Junhwe really is there with him. He feels like the person beside him is just going through the motions, and whenever they look at each other, it feels like Junhwe is looking far ahead emptily. The only time he truly felt Junhwe’s with him is last night, when he carried him back to their bedroom after he fell asleep watching a variety show. Though Donghyuk was already drifting to sleep, he had felt how Junhwe’s hands tightened around his arms and legs. He felt the trembling of Junhwe's hands despite the effort to suppress it. And though words weren’t said, Donghyuk realizes that Junhwe is still trapped in that day, unable to get out by himself. That’s not how his husband should be and Donghyuk can’t bear seeing him like that anymore. They both need to confront what happened.

“You’re avoiding me.” he finally opens up Tuesday night, when they’re trying to watch a movie at their living room. He’s resting his head on Junhwe’s shoulder.

“We need to talk.” he adds in emphasis.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“You are. You refuse to talk about my mission.”

Donghyuk feels the tension on Junhwe’s body with his words. He waits for Junhwe to say something but when he remains silent, he sighs and pulls away. He faces Junhwe pr