[20k]
[There's a moment where someone tries to trigger suicidal thoughts so please be very cautious of that, it's brief but it's there, also cannibalism yikes, and basically blood and violence all the terrible stuff is in this part lmao]

Part Three.

They don't look any different, or stereotypically scary, but there is a crazed glint in their eyes, fire that burns too damn bright, too wild, for her to feel comfortable around. She thinks these people, six men and one woman, look like they are willing to burn the whole town down for laughs, watching on all the while with gaunt cheeks and big, unblinking, gleeful eyes. There is a too long stretch in their lips, too much bearing of the teeth, messy, unkempt hair, ragged clothing, and specks of dried blood spotting their cheeks as if they've been crying tears of blood. Yeeun doesn't want to think about how the blood got on them.

“Look, we don't want any trouble.” Kyungsoo speaks up, a hand still curled around the back of Junmyeon's shirt, his other hand out, palm facing outwards in a placating gesture.

One of the men has a demeanor that feels incredibly leader-like, with a half shaved head, and his torso hangs halfway out the backseat window as he leers at them, elbows resting on the edge of the window. He brandishes a knife she's only ever seen at butcher shops. His grin is too big, the red, fresh scar on his cheek glinting ominously in the bright morning sun.

“If that were true, then you wouldn’t have stepped into my territory and stolen from us.” He spits out, lips curling over his bared, yellowish teeth.

Junmyeon blinks, startled, “We really didn't know. I was going to leave money. We can give you that. We can give you money.”

Usually Yeeun wouldn’t agree with compromising with creeps like this, but there's a look in all their eyes, a feeling in her gut, that tells her that they shouldn't remain in these people's presence any longer than they have to. When she looks at them, she is reminded of those voices on the roof of Sehun's building. Besides, all of them seem to have weapons, from knives to baseball bats—one of the men's even brandishing rusty chains with jagged curved knives at the ends, the curved blades the size of her head and she guesses it came from a farm somewhere.

They all laugh, the woman's shrill cackle hurting Yeeun’s head the most. Yeeun tenses when all six men saunter out of the car, the woman climbing from the open trunk through the length of the car and into the driver's seat, a maniacal grin that unsettles Yeeun the most about this situation playing on her lips. Doors slam open, scraping against the sides of the car as they throw it open carelessly. Junmyeon backs up now, his hand automatically going up between the men and the rest of them, as if he thinks his arm will be enough to protect them. The sounds of their feet crunching against pavement and broken gravel as they continously let out small peals of giggles, as if the act isn't within their control, echo in the empty parking lot. They could try to fight them, but they are weaponless despite outnumbering them, but barely. And something tells her that these people won't hesitate to tear them apart limb from limb. Something tells her fighting them, weaponless, will only end in death, or worse. Their eyes glint as they slowly begin to circle them, the leader remaining against the car door, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Another man, a stout man with dyed blonde hair, spits at them, “ing rich kids.” He hisses it and it's a horrifying sound that slithers down her back.

Jongdae's grip on her hands tighten, even as the leader says, “Tell me, what's the use of money when it's got no value anymore?”

No one answers, so he nods to himself, and answers his own question.

"Two things," The leader lifts up two dirt-covered fingers, still grinning, and one of the other men, lanky and thin, his cheeks hollowed out, too thin, leans forward, until his splitting grin is inches from Oh Sehun's face. Yeeun silently commends Sehun for just scowling back, fingers clenched into fists, seemingly unfazed. The gaunt man sneers at Sehun as he cackles and echoes, two. They all repeat the word, throwing the word between themselves, at them, and Yeeun hates the sound of their voices and how they don't mesh together, grating on her ears, on her nerves. "Power and food. That's all that's valuable anymore, sillies."

Yeeun's skin crawls at the word sillies, because it should sound ridiculous coming from a grown man, but it adds to the eerie, creepy aura radiating out of these people.

"Money can get you food and power." Jongdae speaks firmly, as if he's trying to remind these people of the fact.

The leader grins, all teeth, but he doesn't look amused in the slightest. Another man, the one brandishing the baseball bat, snorts, a hacking, mucus-filled sound. The woman screeches, cackling too loudly. The Leader gripes, "Silly ing rich kids. No, it can't. Get with the ing program."

He shouts the last word, a sudden raise in volume that has Yeeun flinching back involuntarily, has Baekhyun glancing back at her for just a moment, a cursory glance that's almost habitual, and it doesn't go unnoticed. One of the men around them cackles like hyena and howls out, oh we got a squirmer.

Yeeun's skin crawls at his sneer, his eyes lit up with glee.

"What the do you want, then?" This time Yeeun speaks, anger prickling at her veins because they're laughing at her and she's sick of these creeps.

The Leader seems almost amused by her for a moment, eyeing her outburst like she's some type of small animal having a cute little tantrum. She scowls at the condescending expression and Jongdae grips her hand in warning, touch protective, though more calming now.

"Ah," He raises both hands, all theatrical and exaggerated, his big, big grin dripping off his lips, lopsided as if it'll fall off at any moment and slither to the floor, "Glad you asked. You see, you stealing from us undermines our authority in this town. Which really really won't do because we've spent the better half of a week. Maybe, two?"

The woman nods, bouncing in her seat excitedly, radiating anticipation, "It was two."

"Ah, thank you, love. Yes, two weeks. Two whole weeks making sure every single person in this ugly town knows who own them." The Leader now purses his lips, his scar glistening as he eyes each and everyone of them, one by one. "So, we need to assert our dominance over you all, simple animal kingdom stuff, really. Which is why repayment comes in."

Junmyeon opens his mouth and the Leader bangs his hand against the side of his car, so hard the sound echoes in the silence that follows afterwards, everyone stilling, including his own people. Yeeun's heart jumps, faint childhood memories she still has too much trouble forgetting flickering at the back of her mind, making anxiety curl at the pit of her stomach. Yeeun's fingers shake and she curls her trembling hands into fists, glaring harder, while JOngdae's grip just gets tighter.

"We don't want your damn money." The Leader barks out at Junmyeon, spit flying out his mouth, eyes bulging. Junmyeon pales, shoulders tensing.

"You want food? That's it?" Chanyeol's deep voice is clearly unexpected because all of them eye him with caution the moment he opens his mouth. The juxtapostion between Chanyeol's voice and appearance always surprises people, but this is the sort of surprise that makes these people eye Chanyeol like he just announced he's going to kill all of them.

"That's it?" He repeats, doing a poor, exaggerated impersonation of Chanyeol's deep voice. "Do you all know how hard it is to find some nice bulgogi these days? These guys don't understand rationing so now we're all out. Been out weeks ago because the stupid ing rich folks in the cities up north get first priority, apparently. It's bull." He sticks his tongue out, making gagging sounds as he pouts like a child. One of the men closest to Yeeun pouts, I didn't mean to eat all of it.

The Leader replies, off, yes you did. Then they all laugh, throwing their heads back.

For some reason, dread washes over Yeeun when Chanyeol says, tone consoling, "We can find you meat."

The Leader then bursts into giggles, laughing so hard he's bent over against the car door, hands on his stomach and tears in his eyes. Everyone else chuckles, but the woman is the one to say, "You are the meat, idiot."

Yeeun blinks, her fingernails digging into Jongdae's hand, his doing the same back.

"Oh, look." The one with the baseball bat cackles, jabbing it at them, "They look so confused."

"Cute!" The Leader guffaws inbetween words and it makes his words worse, somehow. "Quick! Pop quiz! What the hell does a person do when they run out of bulgogi but they're craving some good old meat?"

Yeeun can hear Jongdae's sharp intake of breath.

One of the men, who looks younger than them, just a teenager really, throws up both hands, knives glinting in the bright sunlight. The Leader gestures at him with a flourish. The teenager shouts, "We take initiative~!"

"Exactly! Just like the news has been saying." The Leader turns to look them all in the eye and Yeeun feels utterly queasy, her stomach churning, "Like the officers and doctors said before they left us to die, take initiative. Survive. Anyhow we tested it out and you all would make delicious bulgogi."

"I call intestines!" The women screeches.

Yeeun cringes away from them, can feel and see the utter fear and horror in her friend's eyes, reflecting her own fear and horror.

Baekhyun balls his fists, feet settling into his wide hapkido stance, as he glowers, "You can't possibly ing think we'd–"

"We're going to tie your hands up and then you'll get in the back of your van or else one of you is going to get flayed alive right here and now." The Leader says, crows out really. His big, unblinking eyes remain fixed on them, challenging.

One of the men reaches for Yeeun's arm, the, others moving in on them, and Yeeun yanks her arm out of his grip, kicking out at him.

The Leader sighs, long and heavy, dramatic, wistful, "I hate it when they fight back. It's ing annoying."

Then Baseball Bat swings, bat arcing from way up high, catching Kyungsoo in the ribs, and they all freeze as Kyungsoo keels over, his sudden gasp for air audible over the angry shouts and shoving. The Leader says, "If I have to say it again, he's getting a home run to the face. It'd be a shame to ruin such a handsome face."

Yeeun watches as Kyungri and Chanyeol help Kyungsoo up, his face contorted in pain, blood speckling the corner of his lips. There's a silent agreement among Yeeun and her friends, then. They let the men tie their hands up, her skin crawling the whole time, and shove them into the back of their van. Yeeun’s heart skips a beat when one of them laughs and throws Kyungsoo and Chanyeol's giant teddy bear into the dirt, stomping on it.. They're shoved into the middle seat and backseat, pressed up against each other, her back and tied arms pressed to Oh Sehun's chest. She's in the center, where the six men are all around them, hanging off the passenger's side seat, grinning all the while, three of them hanging out the trunk in the back seat, the trunk door wide open, wind whipping through the van as they start to drive. The woman drives off without waiting, her tires skidding, the smell of burnt rubber filling the air. Kyungri is next to her, with her back facing the driver's seat, while she faces backwards, her knees pressed to Yeeun's side as she tries her best to keep some sort of distance between herself and the man squashed between her and the side door. Yeeun levels a scowl on that man, but he just seems amused. Kyungsoo is beside Sehun and she can't see the others, though she can hear Baekhyun , behind her,cursing at them for throwing him into the car, Jongdae telling him to calm down, Junmyeon murmuring Kyungsoo are you okay and Chanyeol whispering something to Kyungsoo his deep intonation audible, though his words not so much. Yeeun lets out a shaky breath.

Oh Sehun whispers, "Just stay calm." She scowls because that's easier said than done.

~.~.~.~.~

"Wanna know a secret?" The one hanging out the passenger's side seat gets in her face and she presses back into Oh Sehun, wishes that he could be Jongdae, instead.

(Or Baekhyun, her mind supplies. She's too terrified to deny that, too terrified to feel like about it. Or Baekhyun, she agrees, thoughts panicked.)

"Women taste the best. Something to do with all that meat on their bones, probably." The man leans forward, pupils dilated, and leers at her, spins to leer at Kyungri, who presses back into the driver's seat in an attempt to get away. The man next to Kyungri cackles, leaning into her, his hand landing to rest on Yeeun's knees. Yeeun is horrified by how close the man in the passenger's side seat is, how she can smell his rancid breath, even as she presses back into Oh Sehun behind her, as if she can somehow melt through him. The man leers and her skin crawls as he speaks, his tongue darting out to wet his dried, cracked lips, "All that extra meat on their thighs, their hips, their –"

Oh Sehun kicks at the man's chest, so hard that he lets out a surprised oof and falls backwards, into the Leader, making him swerve a bit before he shoves him into the passenger's side seat. Sehun instantly swivels, as much as he can squished between her and the seat, and does the same thing to the man next to Kyungri, though this time it's right in his face. Perhaps because of sheer luck, the man falls back, grabbing his face and definitely broken nose, and hits the door handle, making the side door fall open, wind gushing into the car, making her hair whip all around her. Since the Leader's driving at ridiculous speeds, the man immediately falls out, his scream sounding like it's being swallowed up in a vacuum. Kyungri uses her legs to pull the door shut again, feet slipping a few times until she gets it, her eyes wide in horror at the fact that that man is most likely dead now.

Sehun speaks, very calmly, to the man in the passenger's side seat, "Try that again. Please." The man brandishes a knife, Yeeun cringing at the way it glints in the sun, like the silver moon itself. Sehun just eyes him haughtily, still so unfazed.

(Yeeun vaguely wonders of the things Sehun could have seen, in Busan, to seem so unfazed right here and now.)

Yeeun is genuinely terrified of the possibility of Tinder Boo getting stabbed on her (and Kyungri's) account. But before she can say a word, before Knife Man can let loose his too big knives (that are clearly overcompensating for something) the Leader says, “No killing in this van. We need it and I don't want to deal with cleaning out blood stains.”

Knife Man pouts, Sehun remains tense and so does Yeeun and Kyungri, even as they huddle closer.

~.~.~.~.~

The van comes to a screeching halt, the smell of burning tires filling the air. Baekhyun cusses loudly, muttering get the off me from somewhere behind her and one of the men responds with, shut up . She can imagine Baekhyun's glare and flexed hands. Baekhyun doesn't get angry often, but when he does it's a quiet storm, rage rolling off him in waves, expression stone cold, and she's pretty sure it's terrifying to be on the receiving end of that, especially knowing that he could easily kill a man because of his hapkido training.

She locks eyes with Kyungri as they open the door, her eyes wide with horror and dread, the same emotions churning in her chest.

(An understanding passes between them, the same kind of understanding that they have when they go out late with their other friends for a girl's night, when Jinri had gotten too drunk once and the three of them were left to walk home in the middle of the night, where even if it's a safe neighborhood by any of the boys' standards, they both know it's not, where they sometimes go out dancing with the boys and there's always, always, a girl at the bar or the dance floor with discomfort in her eyes and a pained smile on her face and small movements that manage to shake off a stray hand from a stranger leaning too close, and Yeeun and Kyungri would just look at each other before maneuvering around her, grinning as they overplay their intoxication and pretend the girl is a best firend in order to get her away, where they sometimes throw out free drinks when the stranger is staring too hard, earning confusion and dismissive comments from their boys–at least until they told them off after the fifth time. The look is Kyungri calling her on the phone late at night, when she's walking back from campus, and whispering sorry in between a too loud retelling of a story Yeeun's already heard days ago while Yeeun blinks away sleep and responds, don't be, as she sits up, eyes on her car keys, fingers poised for the police, just in case. The look is protection and solidarity, an inherently different look that manifests in darkness and grocery parking lots, in buses, at internship offices, everywhere really, and between not only each other, but friends and strangers alike, all with the common characteristic of womanhood, of identifying as women, even of people who do not identify as a woman but express themselves physically in a femme way. The look says, I'm here and they are not touching you. Kyungri nods, a jagged movement and Yeeun nods, too, her heart lodged in .)

They're pushed and shoved out the van, their extra gallons of water and camping gear and their things being pulled out as well, taken away. Yeeun doesn't even have her cross-body bag on her and she is terrified beyond belief.

~.~.~.~.~

They're at a farm, from what Yeeun can tell. Jongdae's shoulder bumps against hers as the men make them walk around the farmhouse and she quietly catalogs the thin, red line across Jongdae's cheek, clearly a product of a blade. Rage fills her veins as she stares at it, making her falter in her steps, earning a shove between her shoulder blades that has her stumbling forwards, knocking into Kyungri. Jongdae flexes his arms, clearly peeved he can't touch her because of his restraints. He murmurs, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Are you okay?" He sounds strained, infinitely worried.

Yeeun doesn't have it in her to say the usual I'm fine because they really aren't.

They arrive at the back of the farmhouse, where there's a giant bonfire situated around plastic chairs, but, surprisingly, there aren't any more people, just the now five men and the woman. Yeeun vaguely wonders if they even care about the man who fell out of the open door. The woman is tending to the fire, grinning at it like it's told her a good joke, and there's a spit at her side, big enough to roast a whole pig. Yeeun's stomach jumps and she thinks she's going to be sick.

The five men laugh as they knock at Yeeun and her friends, shoving them against each other, and Yeeun tries to breath, tries to keep from falling over and possibly getting stepped on.

Then the Leader says, with a huge grin on his face, "The pretty girls will make such a lovely dinner. I even picked some lettuce in case an occasion like this came up!"

One of the other men leers, "Dessert, too."

Yeeun shivers.

"No." Chanyeol snaps out, tone defiant, though he is clearly freaked out. Yeeun thinks that all they need are weapons. They aren't outnumbered, all they need is a way to fight back.

"Of course, since you boys are too scrawny to make tasty meat, we can play a little game instead."

"No." Chanyeol glares, shouts, and the sight is new, different from what Yeeun has ever seen from someone who's usually so, so soft and gentle. He grits his teeth. "No ing games."

The Leader eyes Chanyeol with a sort of grim, wild eyed look that Chanyeol surprisingly does not back down from. Then the Leader says, ignores CHanyeol, “Let’s get you to the Farmhouse. The game is really simple, though. Survive, that’s it.”

Suddenly three of the men and the Leader begin to move, shoving Junmyeon, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, and Sehun towards the looming farmhouse, weapons pointed at their heads. One of the men, a stumpy man with a big nose suddenly grabs at Kyungri’s arm and Yeeun shouts, off, shoving his arm off her. He doesn’t hesitate for single moment when he slams a palm against the side of head, against her ear, and her vision blurs as pain shoots up the side of her head, her eyes watering and her left ear ringing at the impact as she stumbles into Kyungri. She hears shouts, Kyungri’s and some deeper voices, Baekhyun’s and Jongdae’s mixed in there.

She blinks rapidly at the dots spotting her vision, even as the Leader says, “Don’t worry about your girls. We’ll take real good care of them. Channel all that worry into getting out of there in one piece.”

Her vision swims and she locks eyes with Baekhyun as he glances back and he looks so, so angry, like he wants to set the whole field on fire, right then and there. Before she can respond, register his expression or Jongdae’s worried shouts, she’s dragged towards the woman and her fire, the side of her head feeling like it’s on fire. She does see her boys being shoved into the Farmhouse and then those men going in after them, brandishing weapons, and her heart drops to the pit of her stomach as Big Nose and the woman eye the two of them, the former leering and the latter speculative, analyzing as if she’s trying to figure out exactly where to stick her knife in first for the best cuts of meat.

Kyungri’s expression is strangely vacant, worryingly so, as Yeeun registers the woman saying, “I want them stripped down to their underwear so we can marinate them nice and good.”

Yeeun squirms at the man’s touch, kicking until he raises his weapon, threatening her again, until she hears a loud, grating scream from the direction of the Farmhouse, coupled with the sudden sharp sound of a chainsaw revving through the otherwise quiet farm land. Yeeun pales and Big Nose laughs as he yanks off her jeans, fingers lingering too much, making her shiver, itching to break his fingers, her eyes stining with unshed tears. He laughs and says, “Looks like they’ve started the game.”

The woman just glances over her shoulder, at the Farmhouse, and for a brief moment, she looks grim, not so enthusiastic. Then those wide, dilated eyes meet hers and the woman grins like a shark as she whispers, “No one ever comes out of there intact you know.”

Yeeun blinks at the way the woman turns back to the fire, the way Big Nose snorts.

Marination means sitting in a giant wooden bucket filled with stocking, vegetables, bones, and other spices and Yeeun has to resist the urge to throw up because she and Kyungri are curled up against each other in the basket and Yeeun has a feeling puking will earn them both more suffering than they need right now, especially because the chainsaws continue revving from within the Farmhouse, the shouts indecipherable but grating, terrifying.

Big Nose says, “Your pretty boys will be dead meat in less than an hour.”

Kyungri closes her eyes and presses her body further against Yeeun and Yeeun attempts to comfort her by nuzzling her chin against the top of her head, despite not being able to use her hands, her heart feeling like it’s being torn to shreds.

~.~.~.~.~

The Farmhouse grows quiet for a while and Big Nose gets tired of receiving no answer when he tries to rile Yeeun and Kyungri up, so he bounds over to a plastic chair and works to sharpening the blade of his axe. Yeeun stares and stares. She starts to think that the rust staining the axe’s blade isn’t rust.

Kyungri’s soft, barely audible voice cuts through her terrifying realization, making her head snap to the side. Kyungri draws her knees up to her chest. “Is this it?”

The silence from the Farmhouse is deafening and Yeeun’s heart shatters a million more times, over and over and over again, her chest heaving as she tries to breathe.

Kyungri’s voice is so, so tiny, “Is this it, Yeeun?”

Yeeun shivers despite the heat of the day, even as evening draws to a close. She shakes her head, a rickety movement, stiff and unused to movement, “No.”

It’s quiet again and Yeeun chest fills up up up before she murmurs, like a mini explosion of her thoughts, “What if I go to hell, Ri?”

She’s thinking, isn’t this hell enough, having to outlive her best friends, her boys, one of her boy’s lovers, only to end up as food for a bunch of sickos?

“Why would you go to hell?” Kyungri laughs, a hollow sound that’s too breathy, a little raspy, strange sounding.

“Because,” Yeeun pauses, watching as Big Nose lifts his head, eyeing the Farmhouse, a small frown playing on his face before it disappears, “I’m in love with two people.”

She says it and her heart swells, and she thinks it’s worse, saying it out loud, because it sounds worse, realer. She sounds greedy, too wanting. She doesn’t feel too relieved, she just feels like .

And then Kyungri actually laughs, and there’s an edge to it, strange, sharp, making the woman tending to the fire look up, her eyes glinting. Big Nose grins at them. “If you’re going to hell for loving too much then Heaven’s bull. Who would want to go there?”

“Don’t you?”

She instantly sobers up, blinking ahead, at the giant bonfire and the knives the woman’s laid out in preparation on the trampled grass beside her. Kyungri doesn't say anything, just drops her head to the side, laying it against Yeeun’s bare shoulders as she curls into a tighter ball.

~.~.~.~.~

“Get them out.” The woman says.

Yeeun scowls at Big Nose when he grabs her by the elbow, his other hand landing at the base of her spine, her bare skin prickling at his touch.

Big Nose’s fingers dig into her skin and Kyungri shoves at him with her shoulder, earning her a shove back that has Yeeun trying to headbutt him. “Don’t ing touch her.”

Just when Big Nose raises another hand, glaring holes into her when she looks on defiantly (perhaps her heart is pounding away at her eardrums and maybe her palms are sweaty and maybe she can’t stop thinking of the similarities between Big Nose and her ing parents, right then and there, but she will not go down without a fight). She stands her ground when there’s a sudden crash from behind her. Big Nose elbows past her, shoving her to the ground, kicking her legs out of the way as he screams something indecipherable, crashing past her, towards the Farmhouse, she realizes inbetween the shocks of pain. Yeeun’s face is inches from the bonfire, the heat radiating from the fire absolutely sweltering. Yeeun gasps, squirms as she moves back, her hand stinging when she accidentally grazes the back of her hand against one of the knives the woman laid out for them.

Yeeun grabs the knife, it’s the first thing she thinks to do, making sure to grab at it lightly until she finds the rough handle, her fingers wrapping so tightly around it that the cut on her hand stings like mad. She takes in her surroundings, head inches from the fire, as she tries to survey what the hell is happening. And then her heart leaps up into when she sees Junmyeon brandishing a chainsaw, the revving engine loud, jarring, blood splattered on his face, along the front of his clothes.

“Junmyeon.” She whispers, her voice throaty, raspy from disuse. She turns, trying to sit up.

Then Kyungri shouts, her voice sounding like it’s right in Yeeun’s ear, “Yeeun.” And suddenly she’s yanked up by slender arms, pulled closer to the fire.

A woman’s raspy, horrid voice sends electric horror down her spine and there’s something cold, much too cold for the sweltering heat of the bonfire and the musty heat of the sun, right against her neck. If she gasps for air too hard, it stings. “Come any ing closer and I’ll slice her pretty throat to ribbons.”

Yeeun is yanked up, her knees bent, but the knife is still in her hands. She looks, surveys, and her heart—it fills with so much relief, so much, because all her boys are there, even Tinder Boo, looking worse for wear, bloodied, bruised, sliced up, but there. Big Nose and the Leader are the only ones left and Yeeun momentarily wonders of the unspeakable things they did in that farmhouse, her eyes landing on the blood splattered over their clothes, the way Jongdae limps and Baekhyun holds him up, an arm around his waist, his forehead bleeding, cheek bruised. She can see it in their eyes, that something happened, something she may never understand. Chanyeol’s breathing hard, his brows furrowed and his mouth open, one of his arms hanging at an angle like it’s been dislocated or worse. Kyungsoo has bloody, bloody hands. Junmyeon holds the chainsaw in the Leader’s direction, a warning to the Leader, the woman, and Big Nose. The other men are gone, she notices, offhandedly. Oh Sehun holds one of the men's weapons, the chains with the blades at each end, both the blades hovering over Big Nose’s neck, centimeters from cutting it off.

(Yeeun is holding a knife, she remembers. She fumbles with it as she flips it over. Someone says something to the woman and she laughs and laughs, her voice raspy, edgy, right at the shell of Yeeun's ear. She hears, “You escaped, huh?”

Yeeun focuses on the little sawing motions, focuses on getting the wet ropes off her raw wrists, holding back winces when she pokes herself by accident with it.)

The Leader says, “Kill her, kill her, kill her.” He chants it and it echoes throughout the fields. Birds flock out of trees like they are afraid to hear the madness in his tone.

Big Nose says, “She’s useless, anyway.”

She sees her father and mother, then, in Oh Sehun’s grip, saying those same words.

Yeeun pulls her hands apart, startling the woman, who blinks, yanks the knife up, barely missing Yeeun’s cheek. Yeeun pushes her and she stumbles, her hand moves and she makes a motion, one Yeeun registers but knows she can’t do anything about. The woman throws the knife, screams and screams and screams, and Yeeun thinks it sounds demonic, like a multitude of voices merged into one, clawing at her bones. Yeeun drops, narrowly avoiding the knife as she takes her own knife and saws off the bonds at her feet. She looks up, freezing just as the ropes fall away from her ankles and Kyungri’s there, looming, and the woman is screaming again, this time in pain, engulfed in fire.

Kyungri’s freed hands are held out, her expression not exactly shocked, but more—Yeeun swears for a second she sees a smile but then it’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone. Yeeun knows Kyungri pushed that woman into the fire, but Yeeun can’t process that, not right now. Somehow, Big Nose had gotten free, had managed to wrestle the weapon out of Sehun’s hands in the confusion of Yeeun wrestling with the woman, managed to punch Sehun, hard, in the face, disorienting him. The woman burns and burns and she screams and the smell of human flesh burning is unbearable. Yeeun hears someone shouting, “We have to get to the car.”

(Only when she’s grabbing Kyungri’s arm, pulling her behind her after tearing at the rope at Kyungri’s feet, does Yeeun realize that that voice is her own.)

The keys are in the engine and someone pushes her from the back into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind her while she grabs blindly for the keys. She shouts, “Grab water!”

One of them does it because the van dips at sudden weight being thrown into the back and then all the doors are slamming shut with resounding thuds, just as the Leader shouts, get the back here, and a rev of a chainsaw. She starts the engine, it stalls twice, long enough for the Leader to bring the chainsaw to one of the doors, the sound of metal gnawing at metal radiating so loudly that someone cries out. Sparks are flying, she can see it through the sideview mirror. The Leader is screaming, bringing down the chainsaw on the door, until the door starts to mottle, tear apart, Kyungsoo is yelling himself hoarse, hurry up hurry the up, and then the engine roars to life and they shoot out of there, Big Nose flying off the door just as he managed to open the trunk. She can see Jongdae through the rearview mirror, can see him anchoring his lower body and stomach to the backseat and reaching out, as they speed away, missing three times before he gets the handles and shuts the trunk, Chanyeol helping him stay anchored.

She has her foot planted on the gas pedal, her grip so tight on the steering wheel that her knuckles are turning white. It’s quiet when the trunk slams shut, quiet as the rushing air disappears and their ears don’t pop anymore. All she can hear is their heavy breathing. She flinches when someone—Baekhyun’s slumped in the passenger’s seat—drapes a jacket over her bare shoulders. She flinches again when Kyungri starts laughing.

At first, it’s startled, too loud for the quiet consuming the van. But there’s a certain quality to it that reminds Yeeun of someone who is teetering too close to the edge of a cliff. It sends a shiver right down her back.

She slows down as Kyungri laughs and laughs and laughs for so so long and no one has the heart, the energy to stop her. Her laughs almost sound like sobs.

Until she comes to an abrupt stop.

Yeeun looks through the rearview mirror, at Kyungri, at Chanyeol with his good arm wrapped around her head, at the too big sweater she has on.

Kyungri has her head cocked to the side, one side of her face pressed to Chanyeol’s neck, but her neck craned as if she’s looking out the back window.

Yeeun does the same.

The noise comes before the image and Yeeun’s heart nearly stops when she hears screaming, cackling, hooting.

“No.” Yeeun whispers. “No, God, no.”

Her voice carries, floats in the van, feeding the thickening tension.

Baekhyun says, voice hoarse, “Faster.”

Yeeun stomps on the gas, but the headlights, just tiny pricks of light at first, grow larger by the second before they’re blinding, washing over them.

“Faster.” Baekhyun screams, his voice breaking at the second syllable, lilting up and away.

~.~.~.~.~

She keeps glancing at the rearview mirror, even as Baekhyun turns in his seat, his eyes wide, so wide with panic. Kyungri giggles like a little kid and the sound hurts Yeeun’s head.

There’s shouting and Yeeun doesn’t even know if these are the same people or an entirely new group of people, but they’re driving a huge pickup truck that’s much sturdier than the van Yeeun and her friends are in. Yeeun can only see straight road ahead, continuous and pitch black because the street lights are gone. Nowhere to throw them off their trail. So she drives. She stomps on the gas pedal, wills the car to go faster, please please please go faster when the pickup truck looms too close. Until it—the pickup truckhits the back of the van so hard the wheel jerks in Yeeun’s hand and she swerves before catching it, before they’re run off the road. Someone smacks into the back of her seat at the momentum. Someone screams. Someone laughs. Someone chants, .

The pickup truck rides her back, sparks flying as it grinds against the back of the van, shoving her forward, making the front tires skid and turn too much, the steering wheel flying out of her grip too many times. She can’t breathe, even as she wills the car to go faster, knowing that despite a high speed capacity on this van, it’s an old rental and they just might shoot out the engine with how fast they’re going. Then they’re literally dead meat.

They hit them twice, hard taps at the back that has Yeeun jerking forward, the first time she hits her chest hard against the steering wheel, losing all air to her lungs as she tries to just remain straight somehow, someway. The second time Baekhyun gasps as he hits his back against the dashboard, just as the side door, the one that had been throttled by that chainsaw, and absolutely torn to shred, pops off, probably from the pressure, flying off suddenly. By some miracle, it flies straight into the pickup van’s windshield, seemingly cracking it. Kyungri cheers. There’s five more minutes of intense driving, of her fingers feeling like they’ve been welded to the steering wheel, of all the pain, in Yeeun’s chest, her cuts, her face, everywhere just burning. Her eyes burn.

And then they shout expletives that rival Kyungsoo and slow down, tires screeching as they jolt right and make a U-turn, driving away.

Yeeun doesn’t stop speeding down the road. She can’t stop, her heart hammering away. She’s just focused on running, on hiding maybe. She thinks she hears an unmistakable voice, her father, growling, where can you go?

Where? She thinks, where, where, whe—

“Yeeun.” She snaps out of it, her leg lifting from the gas pedal, her heart still thrashing in her chest. She blinks, rapidly, even as Baekhyun’s pretty fingers rest on her white knuckles, on the steering wheel. “Yeeun, they’re gone.”

He doesn’t sound like he believes it himself.

But the adrenaline and fear and autopilot begins to seep out of her, as the car slows down, until she’s parked on the side of the road, hidden by a huge tree, until she breathes in and out and it doesn’t work and she hears Yeeun, Yeeun, Yeeun, and it’s suffocating so she scrambles for the door, tries and fails to open it so many times as her breathing becomes too loud. Kyungri laughs and laughs and someone says, Yeeun calm down, Yeeun, Yee—

Kyungri’s bone-chilling laughter dissolves into something else, something like sobbing, something like heart break.

Yeeun finally gets the door and shoves it open, stumbles out. Someone grabs her and she screams, shoving at him, but the hands wrap around her, so tight as he says, “You’re safe, baby, you’re safe.”

She screams, “Let go of me, let go, let go, let g—”

“Love, please.” Another voice joins the mix.

And she collapses against him, clutches onto him, her hands wrapping around his torso, and the tears don’t stop, her voice catching as she chokes back a sob. She cries and cries, she cries because of what her parents did to her, she cries because of everything they’ve just been through, she cries because they’re going to die, they’re going to die.

She presses her face against his chest, cries out, whimpers, and he her back, holding her up so she doesn’t collapse into the grass. She feels another pair of hands in her hair, wrapping something around her.

They sink to the ground and she cries until she can’t cry anymore, until she’s out of tears and hurts and her eyes are swollen, her face warm.

And when she lifts her head, she finds she’s wrapped around Jongdae, finds she’s clutching Baekhyun’s hand so tight she’s sure she’s cut off his circulation. Baekhyun just reaches out and wipes at her eyes with the heels of his hands. Jongdae hands her some water. She’s wrapped in a hoodie that smells like both of them.

She looks up, resting her hot cheek on Jongdae’s chest.

Kyungri is looking at her, with blank, almost vacant eyes, bloody tears staining her cheeks, the side of her head pressed to Junmyeon’s chest.

Jongdae’s voice is soft, only really audible to her and Baekhyun, “She’s fine.” Jongdae says.

She wonders if the reassurance is more for himself than for her.

Junmyeon hums out a familiar tune as he Kyungri's tangled hair, though she can't remember what. His hums echo all around them.

Baekhyun rubs circles against the back of her hand with his thumb. She locks gazes with Oh Sehun. He looks grim. Kyungri keeps staring, eyes big and unblinking, pupils darker than before. Kyungsoo just closes his eyes as he tilts his head back and stares up at the sky as if he is lamenting whatever’s up there, whether that’s the stars, God, or just the ing sun.

~.~.~.~.~

They stop at an empty gas station and Yeeun watches Junmyeon’s hands shake as he fills up the gas as much as he can.

(He only gets another half tank before it shuts off, clearly running out.)

Yeeun stares at the gas station and vaguely thinks of Lu Han. She wonders if he was normal sick or sick. She wonders if he’s still spending his last days at that convenience store. The thought makes her sad. Then Yeeun takes a deep, deep breath and scours the trashed store, wrappers and shelves scattered across the tiled floors, looking for any type of medicine and bandages. She finds it eventually, just a couple bottles of painkillers, gauze, and some medicated antibacterial wipes.

She takes a deep breath.

Jongdae stands beside her, his curly smile barely there, his warm hand resting at the middle of her back, his scent stronger than ever (perhaps because of the jacket he gave her to cover up, since they haven’t been able to find any damn clothes yet). She breathes in his fresh scent, mixed up with sweat and peppermint, despite everything, and her head clears a bit. Her anxiety becomes less somehow.

He says, his tone soft, rough from disuse, “You can do this.”

She says, “I can’t.”

“You can.” Jongdae murmurs. “You have to.”

He holds out a hand, though, and she takes it, lets his warm engulf hers, lets him anchor her to some kind of stability. Then she nods, briskly, and prays her couple medical classes and that that first aid class she took before becoming a summer camp counselor hasn’t let her yet.

Chanyeol sits with his head leaning back against the headrest of the middle seat, his shoulder set at a weird angle, and his breathing is ragged, his face scrunched up in pain. The door is gone so he sees her coming up to him, with a bunch of supplies in her hand.

Yeeun knows all about dislocated bones, but she’s just glad he didn’t break it or something, because she has no idea how to set those correctly and she's sure it'd be harder. She takes a deep breath and tells him to take off his shirt. Surprisingly, no one makes a joke about it. It unnerves her the most, how serious this moment is. She tries to remember the movies and books she's read about setting dislocated shoulders, tries to remember a textbook or two. She speaks as succinctly at possible, wincing at the way Chanyeol’s already pale expression gets paler. “Take off your belt and bite down on it. Just…just face the seat and,” She takes a deep, deep breath, her finger probing at his bruised shoulder, colored red and purple and blue, and the way his shoulder sticks out all wrong, “Try not to scream.”

~.~.~.~.~

Junmyeon follows Sehun’s directions, passing through streets filled with debris and clothing, until they roll up in front of a small apartment building that’s barely a couple floors tall, at most, with most likely just a handful of rooms on each floor. It’s tiny and the glass doors in the front are boarded up, covered with wood and plastic. They stumble out the van, groaning because of how hot and stuffy it is in there, especially with all their bandaged-up injuries. Chanyeol groans, scowling at his makeshift cast.

Yeeun blinks, both confused and surprised, when Oh Sehun appears in front of her, a familiar crossbody bag swinging between his fingers.

He smiles at her expression, “I realized I was sitting on it halfway through the ride here.”

“Oh.” She says and she’s aware of how awkward she’s being, she is, around him. “Thanks.” She says, taking it from him, relieved at the familiar weight of it around her body.

The silence is still awkward, lasting much too long for a decent conversation, especially as a goodbye conversation. She pauses, coughs, rubbing the back of her neck, before she says, sincerely, “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?” He asks, raising a brow, his handsome features accentuated by the curve of his brow. She thinks he really is too attractive to be real and it’s kind of overwhelming.

(Of course, Baekhyun liked him so much, she thinks, momentarily dazzled by the slight pout to his lips, curled in confusion.)

“For kicking that creep in the face. And the other one out the car.” Yeeun says, though her words come out rushed as she continues to rub the back of her neck.

Sehun rolls his eyes, then, “That was no problem. You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, thank you for bandaging me up. That makes us even.” There’s another long pause before Sehun says, “Take care of him, will you?”

She glances sideways at him, “What?”

“Baekhyun.” Sehun says, “Take care of him.”

“I…” Yeeun starts, blinking rapidly. Sehun grins then, clearly amused by how speechless she is.

“You love him.” Sehun states. He looks up, at the Sun, his neck craning and his Adam’s apple bobbing. She thinks his profile is breathtaking. She thinks Baekhyun deserves him so, so much. Baekhyun doesn't deserve this. Then he looks back down. His eyes seem to say something, something she can’t quite decipher, “It’s obvious you do. So take care of him and…” His eyes drift sideways and Yeeun follows his gaze, to the van, to Kyungri sitting in the backseat, leaning her head against the window. She’s staring straight ahead and for a moment she looks like she’s asleep, but then, so suddenly, she jerks her head to the side, a sharp movement that startles Yeeun, making her gasp as she jumps. Kyungri stares at the two of them with wide, unblinking eyes. She stares and stares, the hairs at the back of her neck standing on end, and Sehun says, tone careful, solemn, “Good luck.”

A shiver springs up Yeeun's spine.

They watch from the confines of the van as Baekhyun walks Sehun to the front of the apartment building. The metal blockades are slid away to reveal a man who’s somehow more handsome than Sehun, a stethoscope hanging around his shoulders. He says something to Baekhyun and he looks serious for a full five minutes before he grins and hugs Baekhyun and disappears, leaving just Sehun and Baekhyun at the door. Yeeun knows she should look away, that this is an intimate moment for them and she shouldn’t intrude, but she stills watches, out the corner of her eyes.

She sees Sehun lean forward and press a kiss to Baekhyun’s cheek, watches Baekhyun's hands curl into fists at his side. She watches Sehun say something before  retreating, shutting the door behind him, watches them reassemble the metal blockades behind the glass doors, watches Baekhyun stand there for an extra mimute, staring at the door, before he turns around and comes back.

(She thinks Baekhyun deserved to meet Oh Sehun under different circumstances, not like this, not now. Baekhyun deserved a real chance to love him.)

~.~.~.~.~

Baekhyun says, "Donghae, Sehun's brother in law– the one who opened the door– said our best shot would be to cut through Seoraksan Park and head towards Yanggu. There should be military presence there when we get closer to the DMZ. Rumor has it, the bunkers are in Cheorwan somewhere and the military's taking whoever can make it up there to the bunkers."

"Why not Paju?" Junmyeon asks, as he fiddles with the radio.

"They get a lot of tourists. Maybe it's too obvious?"

"That's ridiculous." Yeeun mutters, frowning, "We shouldn't have to listen to rumors. They should be telling everyone about this, about everything."

"They can't save everyone." Kyungsoo says, his voice quiet, tinged with sadness. Kyungri hums, nodding in agreement beside her, and Yeeun feels–she's both angry and sad, tired. "They won't."

Kyungri giggles, the sound shrill, "Why would they?"

~.~.~.~.~

Thankfully, there are no more run-ins. Yeeun is terrified that they'd meet someone in Seoraksan National Park, just because it's so utterly deserted and so serene. They drive through narrow bridges and roads, pass by beautiful displays of nature, of rock formations and trees and little waterfalls, that makes her sadder, because the sun will destroy all of this. It'll ruin everything. Yeeun snaps Polaroids, Junmyeon indulging her by slowing down on occasion, all of them indulging her really by posing for pictures, Kyungri even joins in, grinning from ear to ear, and Yeeun can pretend everything is fine. She can pretend they're just driving through a beautiful national park and nothing is real, nothing matters, except for this moment, with her best friends.

But then they leave the park, and the soft static of the car radio looking for signal gets interrupted periodically by voices, the sounds going in and out, in and out, until eventually it levels out to static. Junmyeon fiddles with the dial, flicking it for a quiet five minutes, until a low voice bursts forth, drenching the van in sudden urgency that resonates in every single lilt and turn of the speaker's tongue, heavy in each syllable, every intonation, the words coming out fast, hurried, interrupted by sudden static, half their sentences lost in the airwaves forever.

"The President has called for a state of emergency..........reportedly fled the...There are riots all over Seoul and...Korea Herald...reports....radio silence from North Korea.......imminent threat...President of the United States says....reports from Busan, Daegu......If you or a loved one are sick, experts say you should............that's it......will be hard.....................but..................we.................Good luck......."

(Yeeun blinks at Kyungsoo, at the mention of Daegu, because he said his parents were there, and Kyungsoo just sits there, shoulders stiff, eyes trained straight ahead.)

And then static overtakes everything, drowning out the harrowed radio DJ. Junmyeon switches off the radio, presses play on a CD he's had in there, since all their phones are gone, soft music draping over the resulting silence, the dread.

"Seoul is gone." Kyungri mutters. Yeeun looks over and Kyungri's clutching her face, her nails digging into the apples of her cheeks, her eyes wide wide wide, so wide Yeeun thinks she's seeing the streets of Seoul right in front of her. Yeeun reaches out, places her hands over Kyungri's claws. Kyungri jerks, flinging Yeeun's hands off hers before drawing her knees to her chest. Kyungri turns to Yeeun, her teeth bared, smile gritty and sharp, biting, "Holding hands isn't going to help anyone."

Her voice is filled with venom and Yeeun's stomach drops.

Kyungsoo turns, his eyes on Kyungri, his expression stoic, mouth down turned, his eyes glassy. "Ri." He says, gently, like the times they'd wake up to Kyungri having a nightmare and Yeeun would just stare while Kyungsoo would press a palm to Kyungri's face, the movement, everything about him, so utterly gentle, so caring, so so tender. Kyungsoo holds out his hand, "We're going to be okay."

"We don't even know if our parents are alive." Kyungri says, spits out really, her fingers digging further into her skin, making her cheeks redden.

Yeeun blinks at Kyungsoo, confused, they all do.

Kyungsoo closes his eyes, sighs, mutters, "My parents haven't been picking up the phone since Busan. They were in...in Daegu. And the radio just said..."

"Is that why you and Kyungri were fighting?" Chanyeol asks, his eyes wide, a little hurt most likely because Kyungsoo hadn't said anything to him.

(Yeeun hadn't even noticed and she immediately feels terribly.)

"It's not like–maybe they–"

"Maybe they're fine?" Kyungri asks, barking out a loud laugh that sounds too loud, too jagged. "Maybe, just maybe, we're all ing fine, then, huh? Or maybe you are, so nothing else matters? Am I right?"

Kyungsoo looks at Kyungri for a long, long time, his jaw ticking. Yeeun says, worried, "Soo."

But Kyungsoo just swivels in his seat, arms crossed as he looks ahead, his jaw tense.

~.~.~.~.~

They can see the military blockade long before they reach it. Officers and a makeshift camp looms maybe a fifteen minute drive straight ahead, blocking off the road from cars going any further. The only sounds in the car is the soft melody of Junmyeon's CD settling between them and the wind from the gaping hole where the door once was. Kyungri's asleep and everyone else is just quiet. Jongdae's holding her hand with both of his, playing with her fingers, a thoughtful curl between his brows.

(He had said, after Kyungri fell asleep, "Holding hands is helping me."

And she had blinked at him, his curly smile, his curved crescent moon eyes. There's an overwhelming moment where she is suddenly acutely aware of just how much she loves him, the feeling accumulating right at the center of her chest, and it makes her want to cry.)

Instead of driving straight for the blockade, Junmyeon takes a sharp right. Yeeun frowns as they pull up to a small hotel, just two floors, but beautiful, even if it looks completely empty, abandoned. It's not big enough to hold soldiers, nor close enough to blockade, so Yeeun's pretty sure it's deserted, of both military and sick people.

Jongdae's the one to speak, when the car comes to a full stop and Junnmyeon turns the engine off. "Why did we stop?"

"Everyone needs to rest after..." Junmyeon turns, his elbow resting on the back of his seat so he can look at all of them, "All that."

Yeeun does not miss the quick glance in Kyungri's direction. Neither of them do.

~.~.~.~.~

The keys are laid out on the counter, in a straight line, as if the owner had left the hotel knowing people would want to stay there. They take two suite rooms, two bedrooms connected to a living room with a kitchen, both suites next to each other, up on the second floor. Despite the two rooms, they all pile into just one of them, in the end. The boys are sitting, talking, giggling so normally, in the living room, Chanyeol fiddling with her Polaroid camera, the television playing softly, though all the channels are gone except for the cartoon channel. Yeeun's already checked on Chanyeol's shoulder, so incredibly relieved that he seems to be fine, just bruised. She helps with cleaning any wounds, Baekhyun dumping a bunch of medical supplies he found in the hotel's gift shop into her lap before falling back on the couch and tearing into a bag of chips, all without a single word, without ever looking her in the eyes.

Yeeun hadn't liked it, the aversion of his eyes, the silence. But Kyungsoo had rested a hand on her elbow before she could say anything and now here she is, in one of the bedrooms, antiseptic in her hands as she peers at Kyungri's face, at the red scratches on her face, the marks reminding Yeeun of the tears of blood from earlier, though this time shaped like crescent moons, pressed onto her cheek, one at the edge of her nose, near her eye, at the apples of her cheeks.

Kyungri's eyes are vacant and she doesn't shove Yeeun away when she begins to dab at the wounds with the antiseptic wipes. Kyungri doesn't say anything, doesn't even wince at the sting, just stares past Yeeun's shoulder, out the ceiling to floor window. Yeeun glances back and she admits it's beautiful, admiring the view of the city from the second floor. The curtains are open just enough to allow light in and Yeeun thinks the view would have been more beautiful if the streets below weren't so trashed, so empty, so gone.

"My head hurts." Kyungri murmurs.

Yeeun blinks, startled by how Kyungri-like Kyungri sounds. "Oh." Yeeun scrambles for her bag, digging out some ibuprofen, "Uh. Try this and get some rest."

Kyungri just nods and Yeeun watches as she takes two pills and drinks a bottle of water, before she crawls into the soft bed, pulling the sheets over her head. Yeeun goes over and closes the curtains before walking out the room, lingering for a moment at the door, at least until Kyungri says, voice muffled, "Shut the door."

~.~.~.~.~

Chanyeol sits there, back against the sofa, legs sprawled out under the table set up in front of the sofa, his head in his hands, his expression, forlorn, scared, pained.

Chanyeol says what they've been thinking, "They won't let all of us through."

Junmyeon fiddles with the plastic cup of water in his hands, even as Chanyeol looks over at him, his big eyes shining so sadly, "Right, Junmyeon? That's why you stopped."

"She's sick." Junmyeon whispers.

"Like hell she is." Kyungsoo snaps, jumping up from the wooden chair he's been sitting at. His voice is quiet but it's nearly shaking with the intensity of his anger, his determination, his belief that his twin sister is okay.

“She is.” Junmyeon’s voice is louder now, angrier, “She. Is. Sick.”

Kyungsoo’s voice is low, angry, and he shakes his head, back and forth back and forth back and forth, “She’s not. She’s fine. She’s ing fine.”

And then Chanyeol speaks, his head lolling against the edge of the couch, his eyes pinned on Kyungsoo, filled with the kind of gentleness she sees when he tries to pick up an abandoned dog even though he’s horribly allergic to them. It’s not necessarily pity, but it’s sincerity and love and care, so much so that Kyungsoo’s anger subsides a bit. He doesn’t meet Chanyeol’s eyes, his full bottom lip caught in his teeth, his chin trembling the tiniest bit when Chanyeol says, “We can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Kyungsoo turns his head away from the rest of them, his head tilted back a bit as if he’s trying keep himself from crying. Kyungsoo begins to say something, but before anything comes out, there’s a loud smash coming from the bedroom. Kyungsoo’s shoulders tense. Yeeun reaches the door first.

~.~.~.~.~

Glass shatters the minute Yeeun opens the door and Yeeun freezes at the doorway and takes in the scene before her, open and her face scrunched up in confusion. The bedside table is overturned, the drawers strewn across the patterned carpet. the sheets are torn off the bed, tossed to the floor, comforter, sheets, and pillows, bed stripped bare. And Kyungri is standing beside the window. The window curtains are on the floor, the earlier sound most likely from the curtain rod hitting the floor when she pulled it down. The moonlight shines bright, washing over Kyungri's figure, making her seem almost ethereal, like a fallen angel, fallen because her eyes are big, unblinking, her long dark hair is messy, tangled, and she's clutching the bedside lamp in her hands, the floor to ceiling window shattered on the right–the source of the shattering–glass scattered at Kyungri's bare feet, glittering softly in the too-bright moonlight, warm air drifting in through the opening

"Kyungri." Yeeun whispers, her voice carrying in the silence. Kyungri turns her head, the curtain of tangled black hair whipping over her shoulder. There are bruises under her eye, the earlier scratches extremely prominent against her now pale skin. "Kyungri." Yeeun repeats, breathes out, and she hates how terrified she sounds, how it's come down to this, to Yeeun being terrified of her own best friend, her sister.

She can feel the boy's presence at her back, urging her to walk into the room, but she's frozen to her spot, at the doorway. Kyungri tilts her head to one side and says, "My head hurts."

"So you...so you did this?" Junmyeon says that, from somewhere behind her.

For a second, just a brief, brief moment, Kyungri looks around, her brows crinkling together in confusion, her eyes widening just a fraction of an inch. And then she slowly looks up, her eyes sweeping the room before it lands on them, on Yeeun since she's right there. Kyungri murmurs, "It was either the window or someone's head."

She steps away from the window, stepping in jagged glass, her expression never changing as if she can't feel the jagged pieces slicing at the bottom of her bare feet. Yeeun winces, someone gasps behind her, Kyungsoo pushes through, grabbing Yeeun's arm, maneuvering himself so he's in front. Kyungri sits on the bed, still holding the lamp, clutching it, knuckles white. "Someone's head?" Kyungsoo repeats.

She swings her legs, tilts her head up at Kyungsoo, and smiles, with icy amusement, "Are you volunteering, Soo?" She lifts the lamp up, swings it like a baseball bat, all for emphasis. Then her smile grows jagged around the edges, drips with the same sort of edginess as those people from the Farm. She murmurs, "Or should I volunteer myself? My head hurts, anyway."

She turns the lamp, holding it with both hands in front of her temple.

"Kyungri, stop." Kyungsoo says. He doesn't sound firm or angry like she expects him to, like he had barely a couple minutes ago in the living room. Instead, Kyungsoo sounds scared. Anxious. Kyungsoo takes a tentative step forward and Kyungri cackles, the sound engulfing her with terrible, terrible dread. She pulls the lamp up near her temple, taps at it with lamp and Yeeun's heart twists in her chest.

She cackles, throws back her head, nonstop, and then swings her head back down, her eyes filled with dark mirth while she watches Kyungsoo step in front of her. Kyungsoo says, "Please. Please, give that to me and let Yeeun treat your wounds. Please."

Kyungri stops laughing, just stares at him.

Kyungsoo repeats, pleading, "Please."

"Try it, Soo. ing try and take it." Kyungri's voice is angry, a sudden change that has Yeeun shaking her head, has Chanyeol moving her away from the doorway, stepping into the room.

Kyungsoo tries it. He reaches for the lamp in Kyungri's hands. Kyungri reacts. Her grip tightens before she swings, getting Kyungsoo in the stomach. Kyungsoo gasps, a pained grunt falling from his lips as he keels over, surprise and hurt, both physical and emotional springing to his face. Kyungri lifts her hands again, rearing the lamp back without a single moment of hesitation while Kyungsoo clutches his middle, drops to his knees. They all spring to action, Yeeun steps forward, Chanyeol lunges, Jongdae and Baekhyun and Junmyeon interfere. In a blink of an eye, perhaps because of adrenaline more than anything, Yeeun is clutching Kyungsoo's waist, barely dragging him a couple centimeters from where he was earlier, both of them on the floor, Kyungsoo sprawled on top of her. She can't see his face but she can imagine the pain, the fear, the horror, as he looks up at Chanyeol and Baekhyun holding Kyungri back, Chanyeol with his arms around her waist pulling hard enough to have her half on top of him, the same way she's doing to Kyungsoo, Baekhyun with his hands on her shoulder and the other one on her face trying to get her to look at him, to calm her down, Jongdae and Junmyeon grabbing her arms, one on each side, both of them digging nails into her forearms, wrists, trying in vain to make her drop the weapon.

She can feel it, the tension seeping out of Kyungsoo's bones, while Kyungri shouts, you, you, you, while she thrashes in Chanyeol and Jongdae and Junmyeon's grip, while Baekhyun holds her screaming face in between his palms and whispers something indecipherable, something that has Chanyeol's grip tightening around Kyungri, almost like he's hugging her, his forehead falling to rest against Baekhyun's shoulder, something that has Jongdae closing his eyes, something that, for a moment, makes Kyungri still in their grip, her big, glazed eyes focusing intently on Baekhyun's face, the sincerity and seriousness there.

Then Kyungri snaps at him, "Remind me to kill you first."

And Baekhyun's hands drop away, while the tension in Kyungsoo's body leaves him, until he slumps back on her, in utter defeat. She reaches for his hand and he lets her. His hand is trembling and she hates seeing him like this because she's never, not once, seen Kyungsoo so scared, so emotional. Kyungsoo's voice spreads through the room, although quiet it still manages to cut through Kyungri's angry words, her sudden fury. "We need to tie her up."

"Why the would I let you do that?" Kyungri screams herself hoarse.

Baekhyun says, his voice soft, his eyes steely, "I saw a janitor's closet downstairs."

Kyungsoo slowly gets to his feet, reaching down to help Yeeun up. Kyungsoo just nods, but he doesn't look at Kyungri again, not once.

Kyungri screams and screams.

~.~.~.~.~

"You don't have to do this alone." Junmyeon is quiet. They're gathered around the coffee table, in the same suite. Kyungri is screaming and screaming from the second room of the suite, her voice cracked and hoarse, but muffled by the walls.

"She's my sister and–"

"Shut up." Chanyeol snaps, cutting Kyungsoo off. Kyungsoo glares and, surprisingly, Chanyeol glares right back, cutting off Kyungsoo's angry retort, "We're not going to let you do this alone, you stupid ing . I know, God do I know, how much you love to shoulder things on your own, but the world is ending as we know it, and now is not the time to do this again. You already did it with your parents. I'm not letting you shoulder all that pain again. Not now, not for something like this."

Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol, his eyes wide, as if he's in awe. Then he blinks and mutters, "It's just–"

"If you're going to try and convince us to step back and watch, then I'll ing kick you, Kyungsoo." Yeeun whispers, speaking for the first time since she opened that door. Chanyeol nods along, vigorously. "We love her, too."

"I know, god, I know." Kyungsoo groans, dragging his hand across his face, "It's just–It hurts so much and I don't want you guys to–" Kyungsoo takes one look at all their faces before he sighs, "Nevermind, I'm being stupid."

"Yeah, you are." Jongdae says, bumping his shoulder against Kyungsoo's, which earns him a small, brief smile.

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun carries a small, plastic cup, antiseptic wipes, alcohol, and a pair of tweezers she found in her crossbody bag into the room.

(Jongdae had raised a brow at her, "Who's the soju for?"

"Me." Yeeun had uncapped the soju and swallowed a mouthful. Baekhyun snorts at her from beside Jongdae on the couch, burns and her eyes swim at the intensity of the alcohol. Jongdae frowns at her, even as she shakes her head, wrinkling her nose at the soju, before adding, "And to clean up any bad wounds."

"But mostly for you." Baekhyun says. Yeeun laughs, a little hollowly. Baekhyun smiles. Jongdae's frown deepens.)

Kyungri just sits there, on the new bed they've tied her to, her wrists rubbed raw from pulling at her binds. She leans her head back on the headboard before blinking at Yeeun, the movement lethargic.

"Hey." Yeeun says, "How are you feeling?"

Yeeun wipes down the tweezers with both antiseptic wipes and soju, her eyes focusing on the pieces of glass embedded in the soles of Kyungri's feet, the wounds still seeping blood, Yeeun's stomach churning.

"Nothing." Kyungri says.

Yeeun blinks, but leans in, straightening her tied legs and Kyungri doesn't try to kick her in the face. She lets Yeeun pull out the shards. There aren't nearly as many pieces of glass as she thought, the sound of glass tinkling against plastic as she drops the bloody pieces into the cup quickly becoming the only sound for a long long time.

Yeeun starts to finish up when Kyungri says, "I should have tried to kill you instead."

Yeeun pauses in her wiping at Kyungri's wounds, before she continues, responding after a minute, "Why?"

Kyungri's eyes drift up, past Yeeun's head, but then Yeeun looks back down, focusing on her work, "You love them both. They love you, too. And instead of picking one, you're playing with both of them. You're a piece of ."

The antiseptic wipe falls out of her grip. Yeeun frowns as she studies Kyungri’s stony expression, “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Kyungri raises a brow, “You already told me you’re going to hell for being in love with the two of them. You already know how ty you are, don’t you?”

“Kyungri—”

Kyungri snorts, lolling her head to the side before settling her cold gaze on Yeeun, “Of course, you’d want both of them. What else should I expect from someone who’s never even been loved by their own paren—”

The door slams open, cutting Kyungri off, and Yeeun pales at how Jongdae stands there, his angular jaw clenched so tightly, it looks like he’ll break his teeth.

Baekhyun is behind him. He’s glancing between Kyungri and Yeeun, eyes wide.

“Oh, look. Her knights are here.” Kyungri cackles, eyes dropping on baekhyun, “Don’t you get sick of letting her string you around while she’s with our sweet Jongdae?”

Baekhyun grimaces, “You’re not making any sense.”

“I forgot.” Kyungri snorts, her head falling back against the headboard, “You’re just as ed up as her. You don’t know how to tell the people you love to off, even when they’re trash. Yet, you're good at telling the good ones to themselves. Seems like you're the one who's trash, really.”

This time Jongdae steps in, his voice low, serious, “Ri, listen to yourself.”

“I am.” Kyungri shrieks, the sound reverberating off the walls, no doubt loud enough for Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and Junmyeon to hear it from the other suite. “And who the are you to act so self-righteous? Who the are you to play mediator? You don’t even listen to your own damn self. If you did you’d have already killed yourself and saved us all a lot of worrying. Practice what you ing preach.”

Jongdae pales.

“Kyungri.” Yeeun’s voice is loud as it cuts through the tension and Kyungri grins at the reaction. Yeeun grits her teeth and snaps out, “Apologize.”

“No.” Kyungri growls, before turning her big, glassy, unseeing eyes, and stone hard expression on Jongdae, her snarl curled at the edges with wildness, “Am I wrong? All of you are always advising the rest of us or some bull, telling us to love our damn selves when you can’t even do that. You’re all ed up. Maybe that’s why you love each other, because you’re all a bunch of ing pieces of .”

Baekhyun is seething, his expression dark. Baekhyun wants to shout at Kyungri, the same way Yeeun does, but Yeeun knows, deep down, that this isn’t how Kyungri feels. But she can’t entirely shake the unease, not when it’s Kyungri’s face and her voice and her saying it, even if she’s sick and has seemingly undergone a complete personality change.

“And here’s Junmyeon! Hey? What’s it like loving a girl who didn’t even think twice before abandoning you for a cure to a disease that’ll never be cured? You know what the sickness feels like? It makes you want to  all kinds of people, Junmyeon. She’s probably ing another person in that hospital as we speak.” She shrieks the last word, her voice shrill as she cackles, giggling like mad. Junmyeon’s expression drops, “Awww, is our rich spineless Dad going to cry?”

That’s when Yeeun spins, stomps out of the room, grabbing Junmyeon and Jongdae by the elbows as she shoves at Baekhyun using Jongdae. She hears Kyungri call out after her, “Have you fallen in love with Junmyeon, too, ?” Kyungri laughs and laughs before she adds, in between each snicker, “Please, send my brother and his stupid boyfriend in. I have a ton of words for them.”

She kicks the door shut with a loud bang, just as Kyungsoo and Chanyeol step into the suite.

Yeeun speaks, almost in tears, “She’s gone. She’s gone.”

Kyungsoo blinks, rapidly, “What are you—”

Yeeun wipes away at the angry tears filling her eyes, her glare directed at Kyungsoo because she can’t take it out on Kyungri. She can’t show her hurt, because it’ll only feed whatever Kyungri has become. Her voice cracks, but Yeeun doesn’t let it deter her, her words shaking with anger, “Kyungri would never, never, say things like that. That—whoever that is in there, she’s not Kyungri. I—She’s gone.”

~.~.~.~.~

They can hear Kyungri yelling, long after Yeeun attempted and failed to make Junmyeon stop looking so sulky, so anciently sad, so damn hurt. She momentarily wonders if Junmyeon's thinking of Irene being like this, too. Yeeun can't imagine it, imagine Irene being so awful, though she never imagined Kyungri like this either, so there's that. Now Junmyeon’s sitting on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket and staring off in the distance. She pretends not to notice him wiping at his eyes. He stares off in the distance like he’s trying his hardest to catch a glimpse of the ocean again.

She hears words like liar and piece of and selfish and she ends up having to go to the other suite, following after Jongdae and Baekhyun, who had long disappeared into the other suite.

She doesn’t want to think of Kyungri as gone, but she knows it’s true. There’s no cure, she’s gone.

Yeeun forces herself not to crumble as she unlocks the door to the other suite.

~.~.~.~.~

They sit around the coffee table with soju in front of them. It reminds Yeeun of earlier, what feels like lifetimes ago, when they had all sat around the table, drinking, and the news had been blaring. At six weeks, the atmosphere had been different, tense but disbelieving, almost. Now, there is tension, foreboding as it looms over them. There is a feeling of doom, a realization that everything is very, very real and almost here. It feels like full circle, though they went backwards instead of forwards.

The radio plays softly, automated public safety announcements echoing in all corners of the room, despite how quiet the radio is. They are quieter.

("If someone starts bleeding from the eyes, tie them up immediately. Stay out of the sun as much as possible. Stock up on non-perishables....")

There is something there, hanging between them, the same way as that night weeks ago, right before Chanyeol crashed through the door and brought their conversation, the very idea of ever bringing that up, to an indefinite halt. Now, Yeeun sits, her knee pressed against the table leg, her elbows on the table as she holds her head up, her eyes drooping a bit, more from tiredness than the alcohol. She's not as drunk as that night, just buzzed, perhaps because she is too scared to drink too much, to lose all her inhibitions.

Baekhyun and Jongdae seem to have the same idea, half their bottles left untouched. She feels hot, thanks to the buzz and the lack of air conditioning in the hotel, the heat of the night worse than all the other nights before.

The tension is so thick, one could slice it open with a knife.

She blinks at the table before she finally says, finally blurts out, "I'm sorry."

As the silence stretches on, she gathers up the courage to look up, to look Jongdae and Baekhyun in the eyes. Jongdae is staring at her, his fingers playing with the soju bottle in front of him. He's looking at her with so much reverence that it knocks the breath out of her lungs. He looks at her like he sees God in her and she feels worse, somehow, because she doesn't just love him, just him, and he deserves that so, so much. She doesn't want him to ever think that he isn't enough–more than enough. That it's not his fault.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers.

Her eyes dart to the side, to Baekhyun, to his contemplative expression and quiet demeanor. He is thinking, thinking too hard, and she doesn't want him to think that she's stringing him along, that's he's not enough.

If anything, she is not enough for them.

Jongdae's smile is faint, the lovely curl to his lips barely there, "What is there to be sorry for?"

Yeeun blinks, dragging a hand through her hair. Baekhyun's eyes follow the movement, but he remains quiet and it unnerves her. She murmurs, "Everything. Everything. You don't deserve–neither of you deserve this." Yeeun groans and words just flow out of , "Kyungri's right. I'm a piece of . I'm–I'm greedy for falling in love with both of you when I don't deserve either of you."

"You love us?" Baekhyun's voice is tiny, soft. "Me?"

Yeeun looks up, her hands in hair, and Baekhyun watches her with soft eyes. Her heart swells at his tone, his tiny voice. She glances at Jongdae and he glances between them, fondness melting his features, broadening his pretty smile. Yeeun exhales shakily, the sound ragged as it escapes her lips. She nods, "Yeah." She whispers, her voice low, "I do."

Baekhyun blinks as if this is news to him, as if he can't believe his ears, and he looks so surprised, so vulnerable, that she wants to wrap her arms around him, hold him tight.

Jongdae doesn't let the silence stretch on, doesn't let the delicate tension shatter from a Too Long silence. He runs with it. He says, "The first time I met you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Jongdae looks over at Baekhyun, his smile big, so big, that Yeeun wants to cling to it forever, wants it to be the only thing she ever sees, "On par with Baekhyun that time he did the cross-dressing competition."

Baekhyun blinks, rapidly, and he snorts, still looking spectacularly stunned. "I'm a hot girl." He agrees. Yeeun smiles and Baekhyun smiles a little, too.

"Maybe, it was love at first sight. I know that sounds so ing stupid, but it really seemed that way. I liked you and then I loved you and then I loved you more. That's it. That's all. It was fast and I fell into it and–and with Baekhyun, it was different." Jongdae looks at Baekhyun and the tops of Baekhyun's cheeks turn pink. Jongdae continues, "I think I was always in love with you. I just–it was always there. I always loved you and it took me years to realize it. Until–until–"

"Junior year of high school." Baekhyun whispers, his voice rough, scratchy.

Jongdae nods, "Junior year of high school." Jongdae closes his eyes, a serene smile playing across his lips, "I realized I didn't love you like I love Kyungsoo and Junmyeon and Chanyeol. It's–it's more, like when I thought about dying I'd see your face first. Yours and Yeeun's. And then my heart would hurt. I wanted to make you laugh all the time. It took a long time to realize it wasn't the same, it wasn't just brotherly love."

The silence that engulfs the room is heavy. Yeeun watches as Baekhyun speaks, slow, deliberate, his expression thoughtful, teeming with unbridled affection. Baekhyun's voice is shaking when he says, "I'm biual and I have eyes." Yeeun giggles, she can't help it, "You're both–you're both so beautiful." Baekhyun takes a deep, steadying breath, his eyes dropping on Jongdae, gaze meaningful, "It was junior year of high school for me, too." He turns to Yeeun, his eyes soft and fond and a little dark, pupils dilated, "And freshman year of college, when you came in the cab. It was probably way before that, but I didn't realize until–until then, how soft your hands were. How much I loved to see you smile, how...everything."

Yeeun snorts, amused but so damn horrified because how did they deal with these feelings for so damn long, All she can say, despite all the emotions churning at the pit of her stomach, is, "Are you two ever going to tell me what happened junior year of high school?"

Baekhyun reddens and Jongdae's ears turn pink. They both say, "No."

The reaction is so ridiculous that she finds herself bursting into laughter at their synchronization and red faces, earning a playful glare from Baekhyun and a huge grin from Jongdae, one that makes his eyes curl too.

The three of them laugh, the tension falling away, giving way to a comfortable silence, a feeling, a moment of amity that feels intimate somehow, even as their laughter dies down, settles into amiable silence.

She locks eyes with Baekhyun and he holds her gaze, eyes darkening slightly as he murmurs into the silence, "Can I kiss you? Just this once?"

She blinks. And then she nods, her cheeks hot.

He places a hand on the table to steady himself as he leans forward, hovering over her, his other hand resting gently at the curve of her jaw, near her neck. His hand is warm and as soft as it looks. She leans into his touch, holding his gaze as he leans in, a slow descent. His lips are soft and electricity zips through her, making her toes curl. His hand travels back, tangles in her hair, and she leans up into the kiss, while his lips get more insistent. He smells like peppermint, too, a little bit like Jongdae, and Yeeun thinks that maybe, Baekhyun had asked this same question of Jongdae, maybe he had kissed him the same way. Yeeun doesn't feel jealous, she just feels an immense sort of love building in her chest at the idea, at the fact that her boys love each other just as much as she loves them. He's the first to pull back and she's breathing heavily, gasping for air. Baekhyun looks at her with awe in his eyes and she murmurs, "."

Baekhyun smirks, just a little bit. She glances past him, at Jongdae, who's staring at them the same way he had in the hotel room earlier, when Baekhyun had barged in after looking everywhere for her. Jongdae's chest is heaving, his eyes darkneing, lingering, and she blushes a deep, deep red.

She looks at Baekhyun again, nuzzles against the hand still on her cheek, and she says, "It doesn't have to be just once, you know."

Baekhyun leans back, drops his hand, and she feels the loss of his warmth, her cheek cold. Baekhyun closes his eyes and she thinks he looks so, so beautiful, with kiss-swollen lips, all because of her, Baekhyun bites his lip, still so full of awe, of fondness, and he replies, "I ruin every good thing I touch."

Yeeun shakes her head vigorously, while Jongdae says, voice fierce, "No you don't, Baek."

Baekhyun shakes his head, eyes downcast, "It's true and–I don't want to ruin this. I don't deserve either of you."

Jongdae scowls, whines out, "Enough. Enough of this who-deserves-who bull. None of us deserve each other and that's why we deserve each other."

"That's..." Yeeun frowns.

"Confusing." Baekhyun finishes.

"Exactly. Who cares? The world is ending. Who cares?" Jongdae looks at Baekhyun and he smiles, adding, "Besides, if you're going to be ruining anyone, it's going to be one of us in bed."

Yeeun blushes, turns so red she's sure she looks like a tomato.

Slowly, Baekhyun breaks into a boxy grin, "Oh? You can be smooth?"

Jongdae laughs, the sound all-consuming and enveloping. Yeeun grins. Jongdae says, "Aw, Yeeun's blushing."

"Shut up, so are you." He is, they all are. They grin at each other and her heart is overflowing with love.

~.~.~.~.~

The public safety announcements begin to dwindle fast. The message goes from repeating constantly to repeating every fifteen minutes, interrupting pure static. Tonight, they in one of the rooms with the double beds, their windows thrown open so it's not so hot anymore. There's barely even a breeze. Yeeun knows that should be strange since it's nearing autumn and the weather has only been getting hotter and hotter. It's late when Yeeun steps into the bedroom, the one she shares with Jongdae, the extra bed used by Baekhyun on occasion, barely anymore, and she listens to the radio blasting in the room as she steps in with water bottles.

"...Non-Perishables. Good lu–There are new reports coming in from experts around the world..."

Yeeun steps falter at the sudden change in tone, as if a real person is finally on the airwaves, not a recording. She blinks, her water bottles nearly falling out of her hands.

The man's voice is ancient in its exhaustion, like how she imagines the Gods of old. "It looks like the flares are rapidly approaching at speeds faster than originally predicted. At this rate, from the way the temperature keeps rising and the rapid onset of sickness, we may have at most a week to go. I... Everything is uncertain, however please take precautions to–"

Silence engulfs the room.

She stares at the broken radio, smashed against the opposite wall, at Baekhyun on his feet, pretty hands curled against Jongdae's cheeks, at the fear and the terror in Jongdae's eyes. Slowly, she steps forward, until she sits down on the bed.

Jongdae trembles and he whispers, so so quietly, "I don't want to die."

And he sounds so broken. Yeeun presses her knees to her chest, sits at the edge of the bed and watches as Baekhyun cups Jongdae's face and says, tone fierce. "I know."

"I want to grow old with both of you. I want to live, goddammit, I want to live." His voice cracks, her heart breaks.

And Yeeun can't handle it anymore, can't take it.

(She can see it. She can imagine the future, each of them growing older, getting a tiny apartment in Seoul above their favorite barbeque store, she imagines that maybe Baekhyun will finally allow himself to love who he wants, to stop punishing himself for the things his parents have said to him, for what he's done to Yixing and Taeyeon, she imagines a tiny kitchen and Baekhyun trying to cook, nearly setting the kitchen on fire, imagines Jongdae singing too loudly six in the morning while taking a shower, belting out notes and waking her up (maybe Baekhyun, too, if he wants that, because he's still so hesitant, so unable to accept that they love her, even though he knows), she imagines hosting dinners, imagines a Too-Small bed, all their limbs sticking out, Jongdae peppering (Baekhyun and) her face with kisses first thing in the morning, she imagines kisses and late, late nights, imagines not having to live with the fact that this is their first and their last, imagines little kids running around, perhaps a boy and a girl, maybe more, Baekhyun's boxy grin on one of them, Jongdae's curly lips on the other, she imagines everything, the graying of her hair, of theirs, imagines three pairs of shoes in the shoe rack, tiny ones joining them later, and she–she can't take it.)

She reaches forwards and wraps Jongdae up in a hug, Baekhyun pressed to her side before she snakes an arm out and pulls him in, too.

Jongdae shakes in her arms, gasping for breath, and she can feel him crying, can feel him breaking, after weeks of pretending to be strong. Yeeun buries her nose in his hair, inhales his scent and tries to calm her racing heart.

Jongdae's muffled voice echoes in the crook of her neck, "I want more time with you."

Jongdae's fingers curl against her shirt and he hangs on like his life depends on it. She does the same.

Baekhyun whispers, "We will survive. We will."

And they lay like that, legs entangled, arms all over each other, Jongdae's face pressed in the crook of her neck, his back curved against Baekhyun's front. Yeeun looks up from where she's tucked her head into Jongdae's soft hair and she meets Baekhyun's eyes.

She untangles an arm from underneath her and reaches out. Baekhyun scoots up, moving closer, and she brushes his tears away with the tips of her fingers. She makes a move to withdraw and Baekhyun grabs her wrist, presses a soft kiss to the center, right above of her pulse, before ducking down and kissing the top of Jongdae's head. She falls asleep smiling, warm and content, despite the circumstances of how they got here.

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun jolts awake to pounding at the door. Yeeun groans, just as the door slams open, hitting the wall. Yeeun blinks at Junmyeon, who seems stunned by the sight, blinking rapidly. Baekhyun frowns at Junmyeon, his hair sticking up all over the place, and Jongdae rubs his already swollen eyes, from between Yeeun and Jongdae.

"I..." Junmyeon stutters, before he coughs and says, "You can explain this later. Kyungri's....she's sick. Like actually sick. C'mon."

Yeeun's mind sharpens instantly as she stumbles off the bed, Jongdae and Baekhyun on her heels.

The stark difference between Kyungri's appearance from yesterday to today is horrifying. Her hair is stringier, thinner, clearly falling out, and she's currently puking into the trashcan at her feet, flecks of blood covering her lips.

Chanyeol's at her side, holding back her hair, but when he looks up, he moves his hand away for a moment and hair comes out in chunks.

"Holy ." Jongdae whispers.

Kyungsoo is pulling at his hair, his eyes wide and burdened with stress. "I don't know what's happening. She just woke up and complained about a headache and. She just started puking."

Kyungri wretches and cries, tears of red blood dripping down her cheeks, and Chanyeol just shushes her gently.

Yeeun stares and stares before she says, very quietly, "I think this is radiation sickness."

Kyungsoo looks up at her, his eyes bloodshot, "What?"

"I mean, the radio mentioned something about the flares coming earlier and rapid onset of sickness. Maybe, maybe, like, the radiation from the sun is causing rapid onset radiation sickness. And like...the craziness? Maybe the radiation is frying the brain, too. It could explain the mood swings and personality changes and the bloo–" Yeeun catches herself from rambling, cuts herself off, because if she is even remotely correct, then it can't get better.

Kyungsoo seems to know that because he's just staring at her, hand in his hair, frozen.

And then Kyungri speaks, the edge from the last few days gone, and Yeeun almost cried from hearing Kyungri's normal voice, alone. Kyungri whimpers, crying and crying, blood red streaming down her cheeks, staining them, "I can't be cured, Soo."

They all turn to Kyungri.

Baekhyun whispers, in that same awfully ferocious, fearless voice of his, "You can. We'll–"

"No, Hyun." Kyungri's voice cracks and Baekhyun visibly freezes at the nickname, "I can't. I can't. It hurts so much and–and you're wasting time here with me. I heard it. Chanyeol's radio last night. You need to go before the military pack up and leave. You need to leave me here and go. Please."

Yeeun shakes her head, a quick, rapid, erratic movement, "Kyungri, we can't just–"

"Please." Kyungri is full out sobbing now, heaving out nothing, her stomach empty of everything, "Please, just kill me. I can't do what those people did. I don't want to, but my brain is—I’m having these thoughts and—I—Please, Soo, please."

“You’re asking me to kill you.” Kyungsoo whispers, his finger gripping his hair, a look in his eyes that reminds Yeeun of a trapped animal. He’s shaking his head, “I can’t—I can’t—I—”

Kyungri just stares at Kyungsoo and Yeeun knows they’re having one of their silent conversations, something she figures is easy for them because they were born as identical twins and it is said that twins have a connection, mentally, stronger than anything else in the world.

A long, long minute goes by while the two of them just stare at each other until Kyungsoo swivels on his heels abruptly, stomping out the room, shoving past a startled Yeeun, a confused Jongdae, Baekhyun who just stares after Kyungsoo. She hears a crash, something breaking. Another thing. More and more and more, accompanied by angry, frustrated wails that fill Yeeun’s bones.

(It’ll haunt her forever, she thinks, haunt her until the day she dies. He sounds so anguished, so hurt, that it has Yeeun spinning, following after Kyungsoo. Chanyeol stays by Kyungri's side, his eyes closed, face contorted in pain.)

And there he is, crouched in the middle of the room, pieces of a chair, obviously slammed against the wall, at his feet, the leg’s jagged broken end, in his hand. He squats, his hands around his knees, and he stares at the broken chair. His eyes are big and full of so many emotions.

Yeeun is Kyungsoo’s oldest friend. They were friends first before anything else and Yeeun thinks of Kyungsoo as a brother she never had. They know each other well, but Yeeun has never, not once, seen Kyungsoo like this, so utterly on the verge of shattering.

Yeeun finds herself stepping forward, until she’s crouched in front of Kyungsoo. Her hands are cold, despite how hot it is in the room. There’s sweat beading along Kyungsoo’s forehead, his dark hair sticking to it. She just crouches the same way he does, but doesn’t touch him. She thinks he looks much younger suddenly, like he did back when they were kids and they’d go exploring around the neighborhood and play make-believe games.

Kyungsoo speaks, his voice hoarse, raspy from the shouts. Kyungsoo’s big eyes flick up to meet hers, “A part of me wants to do it. The other part wants to stay behind with her. But—”

“Chanyeol.” She whispers. She doesn’t need to, but Kyungsoo seems to visibly deflate at Chanyeol’s name.

“And for you. And Baek, Jongdae, and Junmyeon. For Irene. For—for my parents.” Kyungsoo blinks rapidly, blinks away tears that do not fall. She has never seen him shed a tear before, though Chanyeol had told the group once that he walked in on Kyungsoo crying over some anime. Yeeun thinks she’d rather see Kyungsoo cry over something so utterly insignificant, something that doesn’t hurt so, so bad. Yeeun thinks of the Dos and how wonderful they were, how they were the kind of parents she avidly wished for, even prayed for back when she used to pray.

Yeeun rests her chin on her knee and peers at Kyungsoo’s solemn expression. Her heart feels like it’s being clawed away at by a terrible beast. She says, “It’s what she wants, Kyungsoo.”

“I know.” Kyungsoo murmurs, “I just need time.”

Yeeun nods, stands up before bending over and holding out a hand. Kyungsoo takes it, after a moment of contemplation. “I’ll help you.”

Kyungsoo takes a deep, deep breath and shakes his head, blinking rapidly again, “No. No, she asked me to do it. It—it should be me.”

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun’s the first to say goodbye.

Kyungri’s eyes are vacant again, lost in disarray, and Yeeun just sits beside Kyungri, her hands tied behind her back and to the bed post again, just in case she tries to break another window.

Yeeun says, “You’re a ing idiot.”

Kyungri laughs, high and shrill, “Is that any way to speak to a woman on death row?”

“You asked for it.”

“Well, now I don’t want it.” She screams it, her voice suddenly rising in volume, and Yeeun winces at the intensity of her scream. Kyungri’s smile grows at the wince, “Is our baby girl scared?”

Yeeun blinks and her heart swells, her nose stings, “I love you, Ri.”

Kyungri cackles, “The only person you love is your own damn self, you selfish .” She spits out.

Slowly, Yeeun nods before getting up, Kyungri screaming at her until she stumbles out the room. She’s met by soft, soft eyes and pretty hands that don’t belong to those particular soft eyes.

She doesn’t cry, she’s all cried out, but she does let them hold her until she can breathe properly again.

~.~.~.~.~

Kyungsoo goes in last, a bottle of water and a whole bottle of painkillers in his hand. He refuses Chanyeol's company before Chanyeol can even ask. His hands are shaking, the painkillers rattling loudly throughout the suite. He stays in there for two whole hours and they hear Kyungri screaming insults, expletives, horrible things that has Yeeun closing her eyes, until the screaming begins to die down tapering off into occasional shouts, accusations. Then someone starts throwing things, breaking things, the banging and thuds making Yeeun jump. Somehow, Yeeun thinks it’s not Kyungsoo.

Then she hears soft, muffled crying.

More shouting.

And then it’s quiet. Dead silent.

Chanyeol sobs silently, his hands pressed to his mouth, as if he’s trying to muffle the noise, despite there being no noise at all.

Junmyeon picks up the keys from the table, sniffling quiet, his nose running. Yeeun doesn’t want to think about that, what that could mean, how he could have gotte—

The door opens, creaking slowly before it hits the wall with a dull, deafening thud.

Kyungsoo steps out with bloodshot eyes and keeps walking, right out the front door.

Yeeun gets the urge to glimpse into the room, but then Jongdae puts a hand on her shoulder, pulls her closer to his side, and murmurs, “Don’t.” His voice sounds choked, like he’s trying to swallow down a sob. “You know it’ll hurt.”

They get into the van and they leave. They look back too many times. Yeeun takes one last Polaroid of the once beautiful hotel through the back window. She doesn’t cry. No one does. Somehow, that’s worse.

The military barricade looms ahead of them, spiked stilts lined across the road to deter any cars from just hurling through, metal barricades set up, military jeeps set up on the other side. The military men lounge about in full body armor and gas masks, guns cocked. They level their guns at them as someone blows a whistle. Junmyeon slows down, right in front of an officer who has his mask off, scowling at them like they're a nuisance.

The minute the van rolls to a stop, engine sputtering loudly due to all the abuse it's gotten, the officers start banging on the van, yanking open the doors without warning, one of them going what the  at the gaping hole at the side of the van.

"Get out." The officers shout, voice gruff, their guns cocked right at them.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, mutters, "Are you all overcompensating for something?"

Chanyeol snorts, one of the officers hits the of his gun against the van, making Yeeun jump.

"All right, smartass. Just get out of the van." The officer responds.

Baekhyun mutters something indecipherable and they all begin to pile out. No one shoves them, that's what she expects, after everything, but they do continue sticking their guns too damn close. Yeeun steps out after Baekhyun, who reaches back and helps her down, Jongdae's hand on her back to steady her.

The officers direct them, tone unkind and sharp, towards a tent set up in the corner, where some officers are standing, sick masks on their faces, gas masks hanging off their uniform belt.

There's a doctor there, his muddled brown and forest green army uniform hidden by a long, white doctor's coat. There's a thermometer in his hands and a stethoscope around his neck. He hooks his face mask around his face and gives them a smile, at least she thinks so because of the way his eyes crinkle.

"Is–is the bunker real?" Junmyeon asks. He sounds faint, exhausted, full of disbelief.

The doctor glances at the officer beside him, his uniform glistening with more badges then the others. That officer leans back against the foldable table they've set up and he says, "You kids look like you've been through hell."

Jongdae snorts, "What gave it away?"

"Maybe it's the desolate look in our eyes." Baekhyun responds.

Yeeun can't help but smile, despite how morbid it all is.

"Funny. You have a sense of humor. You're going to need that." The officer–a General, she guesses–sounds amused, but then his next words come out serious, clipped, "If you had come earlier, we could have taken you all in together, but we're running out of room in the bunkers."

Kyungsoo blinks, "There's more than one."

"There are three. They're not that big–"

"Which is why you didn't tell the public about this?" Kyungsoo crosses his arms, scowling.

"Listen, kid." The General stands up straight, crossing his arms. Her turns his head, towards the South, towards the rest of their country, "Sometimes, you can't save everyone."

(Yeeun thinks of Kyungri.)

"You can try." Chanyeol murmurs, his tone wistful.

(They all are.)

The General laughs, but it doesn't sound nearly as mocking as it should be. It sounds sad, tired. "I like that optimism. We're going to need that." The General sighs, gestures towards the Doctor, "He's going to run tests. If you're clear, you can go. The first van is almost full so only three of you can get on it. We prioritize women and young children first and foremost, for...how do I say this? Prolonging our nation?" He looks at her, snorting at her wrinkled nose and taken aback expression, "It's not much of a priority right now, but we need to think of the future. The other three will get in on the next van. It should be here in T-minus," The General pulls up his sleeve, "Forty-three minutes." Then the General looks over at the Doctor, "Okay, Doc. They're all yours."

~.~.~.~.~

It's surreal, getting a checkup in front of a military barricade out in the open, surrounding by barren desolate landscape. Yeeun stares at the menial amount of equipment, blinks at the radiation detector laid out next to the thermometers and gas masks. It's surreal and it's quiet and the doctor only speaks occasionally, only to instruct her to turn her head or breathe.

But then it's Junmyeon's turn.

The radiation detector beeps loudly, a series of beeps that reminds her of a fire alarm, and it immediately brings tension to every soldier's shoulders.

Yeeun reacts the moment she realizes what's happening, the moment she sees the doctor raise his hand, a single finger crooked, and someone moves, a gun. Yeeun reaches forward and yanks Junmyeon behind her, pulling off her face mask, "That's your solution? Shooting them?" She shrieks, her voice breaking at the word shoot and her words echo all around them, in the empty barren terrain around them, in the silence engulfing them.

"Get her away from him." An officer yells, his words booming.

Yeeun has a feeling that if she wasn't a healthy young woman they would have shot her already. The General had made it clear, they don't need any more men. This makes her step closer to Junmyeon, tightening her ranks, using her body as a shield. Junmyeon reaches out and holds her hand, squeezes it in thanks. She squeezes back.

The General shoves through, his honor badges glinting in the bright, bright sun. She can feel Jongdae and Baekhyun stepping up at her sides, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol behind her, Junmyeon right in the center. The General speaks sharply, "Don't be stupid."

"Stupid?" Yeeun glares, "You were going to shoot him. On the spot."

"Better than having him come back with an army of those crazies and attacking u–"

"Sir."

The General's walkie buzzes at his shoulder, where it's hanging to a strap. The voice coming through the radio sounds absolutely petrified.

"Sir. General, sir. Jonghyun!"

The General–Jonghyun–snatches at his radio, his eyes wide at the obvious break in protocol, "What happened? Lieutenant, speak to me. Hey! HEY! Lieutena–"

BOOM.

Yeeun shrieks, jumping back, as one of the vehicles parked in front of the barricade, acting as a physical barricade for the army as well, explodes, fire up high into the sky as metal parts soar through the air landing just inches away from them, set ablaze.

Then she hears screaming, laughter, shrill and dark, so many that it feels like they're coming from everywhere. It mixes with the screaming from the car parked beyond the barrier.

The General blinks, just as his radio crackles and a soft, pained voice whispers, "They're here and they have explosives."

The General is frozen for a moment before he turns to the handful of soldiers at his disposal, all of whom look both scared and determined. He says, "Why the hell are you all standing around? Snap the out of it. We need to protect those civilians."

Someone screams in the distance, cackle so high pitched that it hurts Yeeun's head, "Don't let any of these ers leave alive! They can't hide the bunker from us!!!"

The General points at Yeeun, "Get in that car. All of you, except for the boy. I don't care what you do with him, but do not let him endanger anyone else's lives." Yeeun blinks at him and the General shouts, "Get moving."

Another car explodes, further away this time. Yeeun moves and it seems like this is the moment when everything goes straight to hell.

~.~.~.~.~

They run. Yeeun screams when a gaunt face appears in front of her, grabbing her arm, his teeth bared as he lets out a high-pitched giggle, "Oh, I got a pretty one."

Yeeun kicks him between the legs and just as he's going down, someone brings down a bat on the creep's head. Yeeun looks up, grimacing at the blood and obvious cracking sound, gasping for air. Jongdae's chest is heaving. They share a moment of eye contact before Yeeun spins on her heel and Jongdae follows her.

Everything is a mess, screaming and fire and gunshots everywhere. Yeeun edges through the opening between the spiked barricades, Yeeun reaching out and grabbing Jongdae's hand, holding it tight until they get to the car, and holding on even then.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are there and after a moment of frantic horror because Baekhyun isn't there, Junmyeon isn't there, her heart pumps against her ribs and she can feel the panic bubbling up .

Just as it's about to spill over, Baekhyun appears, dragging a dazed, wide-eyed, limping Junmyeon behind him. Baekhyun has soot across his face, a cut on his lip like he's been punched.

"Get in." Baekhyun shouts, over the chaos. She meets his eyes, notices the way he stares at her strangely, like he's trying to memorize her face one last time. He points his chin towards the car, "Get in." Baekhyun repeats, shouting.

Yeeun turns, her eyes dropping to the death grip Baekhyun has on Junmyeon's arm, his knuckles white from the exertion, before Yeeun looks at Jongdae, turns to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, who are already in the car, their heads sticking out as they hold hands out for them. She's vaguely aware of the driver yelling at them to get the in the car. Yeeun turns and sees Baekhyun's steady, unreadable eyes settle on Jongdae. For once, they are not so unreadable, after all. She can see something there, something churning within their dark depths.

(It reminds her of how he looked in the courtroom, on the stands as a character witness for her, shirt all tucked in and hair combed, for once, his ripped jeans gone. It reminds her when they did Secret Santa for Christmas and he gave Jongdae a framed photograph of himself, grinning all the while. It reminds her of how he gave her a lawyer to help her leave, but he'd never do the same for himself. It reminds her of the silent conversations Jongdae and Baekhyun would have, over her head when she's the only one Too Drunk in the room, and they’d think she hasn’t noticed.)

Yeeun shakes her head, the movement rapid, falling open but no sound coming out. Her chest is filled with deep, deep dread. She feels like she's suffocating.

All she can think is, no no no no no no no.

"Get in the car, Yeeun." Jongdae says, then, his tone softer, but firm. Non-negotiable.

She keeps shaking her head, her eyes stinging, Even as Baekhyun looks at Jongdae and says, "You have to stay with her."

"Only three people can fit in there."

They all know that more can fit. They'd all make room.

Yeeun starts cry, starts to choke over her words, "I'll go with you. I'll–"

"Junmyeon wants to see the ocean again, don't you, Jun?" Baekhyun speaks over her.

Junmyeon nods, smiles softly, still so, so dazed. He is sick, they all know it, and they know they can't put him on this van, he wouldn't want that.

Baekhyun smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Your safety, just knowing that you're going to be safe, that's all that matters, Yeeun."

"No, no, nononono. How do you–you can't possibly know that." She refuses to budge, even as Jongdae reaches out, presses his palms to her cheeks, and kisses her scrunched up face, over and over and over again, kisses the tears away until she's shaking like a leaf in his grip. She shakes her head more and more, she's blubbering incoherently, "I won't lose you two. I won't–I won't–"

Baekhyun leans closer, kisses the corner of , , her cheek, her nose, once twice three times, even while Jongdae is holding her face. Baekhyun whispers, "You won't, love. You won't lose us. I promise."

Yeeun reaches out, grabs Baekhyun's arm and Jongdae's and wishes she had another arm to hold Junmyeon, too. She shakes her head, "I can't." She cries out. "I love you both so much."

Baekhyun murmurs, "I love you, too" He her cheek.

Jongdae kisses the top of her head, "Me, too." He breathes out a shaky, "I love you, Yeeun."

"Please," She whimpers."I can't do this."

Jongdae looks up, past her shoulder, and he bobs his head in a quick nod. She almost misses it. Almost. She franticly shakes her head.

She screeches, kicks out as strong arms grab her from behind, hauling her into the car. She kicks and screams and cries even as the car jerks, accelerating abruptly, until her voice is hoarse, cracking repeatedly, and she can't breathe, until she goes limps in strong arms, and she whimpers the entire time, like a mantra she whimpers, no no no no no no. She punches at the arms around her, punches and punches until her arms grow limp and suddenly she's gripping those arms tightly, holding on for dear life.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol shush her gently as she sobs, hiccups pathetically. Someone her hair back out of her face, someone hums a tune, but she doesn't miss the tears dripping onto her face all the while, tears that do not belong to her.

~.~.~.~.~

She's angry, for a long time, in that bunker, she's angry. And then she gets angrier.

She hears the whispers of not enough food, of not enough beds, not enough doctors, not enough scientists, medicine, ing air, of not enough.

She's angry as the solar flares hit and the underground bunker is filled with so much tension, all of them watching the screens, watching as fire engulfs the world as they know it and the cameras go blank, seared off the face of the planet.

She's angry and she does not talk to Chanyeol or Kyungsoo for weeks at least until weeks after the solar flare. She isn't sure how long, time feels like a concept, a suggestion, underground.

Until she overhears someone whispering urgently about the surface becoming uninhabitable, for decades maybe even centuries.

She sits on her metal, lumpy cot in their tiny room, her crossbody bag with her Polaroids and camera in her lap when Kyungsoo storms in.

They lock eyes, for a moment, and it's almost awkward. She's been avoiding the two of them since they've stepped into the underground bunker, despite living in the same tiny room, inches away from each other every night.

Chanyeol stumbles in, freezes at the door, blinking at her.

Slowly, Yeeun pulls out the Polaroid camera, dumps the pictures on her cot, until she is surrounded in memories, all their smiling faces, ridiculous poses, and her heart drops to the pit of her stomach at the sight, the memories associated with each Polaroid.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol stare. She swallows down the anger, the pain, the reminders their presence brings, the fact that they pulled her away from them, the anger due to this bunker, because supposedly the government hadn't thought of anything long term for the bunker and they don't have enough of anything. They'll rot down here and she–she misses them, misses Kyungsoo and Chanyeol and–well, she misses everyone, but she doesn't have everyone.

But, she still has them.

She pats her bed, without ever uttering a word. 

There's a drawn out pause.

Kyungsoo sits gingerly. Chanyeol leaps, throwing an arm around her. She can't help but smile a little.

They sort through the pictures, the memories, and Yeeun tears up, but she doesn't cry. Instead, anger grows.

~.~.~.~.~

There's a meeting.

Kyungsoo stands up and he is an embodiment of the anger she feels running through her veins.

"We do not have enough," they begin. "Food, medicine, air, not for the possibility of having to wait out radiation levels for a couple decades."

"Then create it," Kyungsoo snaps. "You didn't prioritize doctors and scientists and labor workers and now we have to face the consequences. We have to learn."

The military officer–the President wasn't even in this bunker, it's just filled with low ranking military and rich white collared workers who know nothing outside of their computer and cubicle. There are some college kids studying in the sciences, well-versed in surviving with barely any money, some laborers, some older people with substantial skill with gardening, some military serving mandatory service who are from farms, some nurses who fled the hospitals before it was too late; there is something in this vast underground filled with mostly nothing helpful.

It's easier said than done, though. They know this.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Kyungsoo looks grim, but he's always been clever, thoughtful.

Still, it is much easier said than done.

(Kyungsoo leans his back against the wall where she taped up all the Polaroids, his legs resting in Chanyeol's lap. He says, "I'm not rotting down here. Kyungri, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Junmyeon didn't die for us to rot down here because of planning."

"Will they even listen?"

"They have to." Chanyeol murmurs, "They're desperate.")

~.~.~.~.~

Yeeun leans over the fermentation tank, eyeing the penicillium mold they've been growing. Ten years later and she's still thinking about how grateful she is for that awful chemistry lab class she nearly failed because otherwise, she'd never have studied her off and would never have memorized the process of separating penicillin from mold because her lab professor was unnecessarily hard on them and wanted them to memorize every damn thing in their labs.

She's still staring at the tank, lost in memories of before, dangerously close to memories of them, when someone walks in to the Medical Bay. He saunters in really, grinning lazily at her vacant expression, "What?" He asks, "Is the mold talking to you again?"

"That never happened. Chanyeol's just dumb." Yeeun rolls her eyes, moving off the counter.

Kim Jongin–the officer in charge of their bunker ever since the first commander died during a cold outbreak, something that occurred just because of everyone's proximity and truly could have wiped them all out if Kang Seulgi, who had an extensive knowledge on growing food and naturally providing proper vitamins and minerals to everyone, through food alone, reminded Yeeun of her horrible Penicillin Synthesis Lab, the second commander shot himself– grins at her, a sweet thing that reminds her of past memories. Ten years is a long time and she’s still hurting, even though it's easier now, much easier than before, to remember, to dwell in the memories for longer than a moment, though her chest still aches everyday. Jongin bumps his shoulder against hers, peering at the tanks in amusement, his grin contagious, "Oh, please. You talk to them like they're your children." Jongin snorts, "Besides, Chanyeol's the best engineer we got. He's not dumb."

"Oh." Yeeun shakes her head, "But you're wrong. He may have built an incredible ventilation system, but he's a . Ask Kyungsoo."

Jongin laughs and it's all encompassing, his expression scrunching up beautifully as he smacks a hand against the counter. She grins, she can't help it. Her chest still twinges in pain, despite everything.

It's quiet between them, peaceful, serene. It's a wonder they used to hate each other for years, at first. Jongin leans against the counter, quieting down for a moment. Then he speaks, even while they both continue staring at the fermentation tank, "So, tomorrow's Oldies but Goodies Night."

She raises a brow at him, smiling slightly, "Are you going with Soojung?"

She sees the way his face falls, the light in his eyes dimming the tiniest bit. She feels bad, but not bad enough to accept the invitation from him. She likes him, but, she thinks, she'll never really love him. Not when she already loves two boys. Neither of them deserve that.

(She thinks she used up all her love all at once and now it's gone. When she had said as much to Chanyeol he had pulled her into a warm hug and said, "You'll be okay."

She knows she won't, not really.)

Jongin then smiles, a dazzling thing that is so, so beautiful, his smile adorable, "I think I will."

His eyes are understanding.

Before she can respond, Jongin's radio crackles, reverberating throughout the med bay.

"Sir?"

Jongin's brows furrow, "Yes?"

"We've caught a transmission. It appears to have been sent out a week ago."

Yeeun nearly drops the petri dish, "It's someone outside of the military bunkers?"

Jongin's eyes are lit up, even as he speaks into the radio, "Are they civilians?"

The person on the radio sounds absolutely in awe, "We're pretty sure they are."

There's a pause, where Yeeun grins at Jongin, who grins back at her, before Jongin holds down the radio and says, "Let me hear it."

"Yes, sir."

Jongin trusts her enough to let it play in front of her, a position she's earned from training her off to become a medic for the already shorthanded staff.

(Yeeun had been annoyed by the government's poor planning in regards to medical personel, but then she thinks of Bae Irene and figures maybe the doctors didn't want to save themselves, anyways. It was a strangely comforting, calming thought.)

At that moment, Chanyeol skids through the doors to the medical bay, gasping for air, hands on his knees, gangly limbs all over the place before he manages to get them in control. Kyungsoo steps in right afterwards, his expression pinched, an emotion there she hasn't seen in a while. He's more stoic than he used to be, gruff almost. Ever since the day they decided they wouldn't let themselves die down here, Kyungsoo's been stoic, an anchor for days when she'd think too much and it'd all be too much. He'd never break, as far as Yeeun knew, and perhaps that was his angle, perhaps he did break, he just didn't want her to see it again, to worry. She's still so haunted by his screaming when Kyungri asked him to kill her.

Yeeun opens to ask them what the hell they're doing here instead of working, when the transmission begins to play through the radio.

"4,012 days, approximately ten years since the solar flares. We don't know if anyone's out there, but we're running out of air. Xiumin says it's still not safe enough to go up, but honestly, I'd much rather kick the ing bucket out in the open rather than in this small hellhol–the Xiumin, get out of here–ow–hey–fine, okay, okay, I'll be professional. I'm doing it, sir. I'm being a ing pro. God dammit, stop hovering...Anyways, if anyone's out there and happens to have a giant bucket of oxygen, hit us up–ow, ow, ow–I mean please, respond. We're kinda desperate. Thanks. Bye.” Another crackle before the voice adds, "This will probably be our last outgoing transmission, so Lighthouse Bunker of War, signin–that sounded cooler, that's why. God, fine, you are no fun. Lighthouse Bunker, signing off, it was a good ten years running. Goodbye."

Jongin blinks, "Wow, those were definitely civilians. How did th–Yeeun?"

Yeeun can feel her heart slamming against her rib cage, her palms sweating. That voice. She–She looks up, whips her head around and stares at Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. Chanyeol's eyes are glassy, slowly, slowly so slowly, filling with tears, glistening in the fluorescent lights of the med bay.

(She thinks it sounds the same, though a little gruffer, a little rougher around the edges.)

She looks at Kyungsoo, perhaps because Chanyeol is like her, too hopeful despite every single thing that's lead up to this point in her life. And Kyungsoo–Kyungsoo almost looks hopeful, too, even though the transmission was sent out exactly seven days ago, despite the fact they were talking about losing oxygen and going up to the surface decades too early. The radiation probably hasn't even begun to wear off to habitable levels yet.

Jongin frowns, "Yeeun, what's wrong?"

Yeeun's heart is in , tears swimming in her eyes, and Jongin looks incredibly concerned. All the memories she's tried to suppress, for sanity's sake, begins to flood back in, bombarding her so hard she needs to grip the counter to keep steady. She whispers, voice hoarse, "We know him. That–that voice. That's–That's Baekhyun."

a/n: this was originally supposed to end right after ksoo and pcy pull her into the van lol but i was like........this is 20k of CRYING so let's make the ending hopeful i can't do this, the sheer amount of angst was actually making ME tired and i love angst so jksnfkjdn, there is hope........kind of....

thank you so, so much to everyone who subscribed, commented, upvoted, read it, EVERYTHING, you're all so beautiful and lovely and I love u my sweet cupcakes, my three musketeers, my LOVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Constructive critism is totally appreciated and encouraged because I am still pretty iffy and not totally into how this escalated and feel like it's missing something?? idk how to explain, but yeah remember to tell me all your thoughts! Thank you soooo much! Good luck to everyone participating in nanowrimo!!!

xoxo