“You wanted to see me?" 

A giant black leather chair swiveled around to reveal Dr. Park Jungsoo, head of the Stem Cells Department. He had his fingertips pressed together, channeling his inner Godfather. Yesung did his best to smile politely, all the while trying not to cringe in revulsion at the specimen for him. A being who only wished to use Mother Nature’s gifts, rather than appreciate them as they were. Park specialized in Drosophila Melanogaster, the common fruit fly, though he only looked at stem cells in the Drosophila ovaries. The real beauty of the creature was completely ignored. Such a man calling himself a scientist was an insult to the discipline.

“Shall we skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point?” Dr. Park asked. Arrogant bastard; what did his sense of entitlement stem from? So what if he had been nominated for several awards for his work? Who cared if his research was on par with the greatest minds in existence, leading others at their university to nickname him “Leeteuk”, the best in the world?

Dr. Park reached for several files at the side of his desk, never even looking over at Yesung. “I’ve been looking over your work these past few years, and I’ve noticed that you haven’t published a paper in quite some time.”

“I’m quite aware of this,” Yesung replied. “My work is still in progress.”

The head scientist nodded. “But three years is a long time to go without publishing anything. There is the funding to think of, as well as how it would affect the other members of this lab.”

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready to show my work yet,” Yesung said. Polite smile; don’t let him see how disgusting you find him. “But I assure you, when the results come out, it will be well worth the wait.”

“And what exactly is this research?” Dr. Park asked, smiling falsely as always. He crossed his hands under his chin, leaning forward and feigning interest.

“It will be something the likes of which the world has never seen.” Yesung matched the smile on his boss’s face as he left the room without being dismissed.

Ryeowook stayed perfectly still as Zhou Mi lifted him out of bed and set him down in the wheelchair. He snuck a glance at his wide-eyed best friend, who was cringing backwards, fingers frozen around the soccer ball he was holding.

“Shall we go outside for a walk?” the nurse asked, smiling at both boys. “It’s a lovely day and Ryeowook hasn’t seen the sun in a long time.” Without waiting for an answer, he tucked a blanket over Ryeowook’s legs and began pushing him towards the door. The other boy followed, feet slapping on the tiled floor as he raced after them.

“It’s good to see you, Kyuhyun,” Ryeowook said after a few moments of silence.

“My mom told me to visit,” his friend said sharply. “I thought you were just sick or something.” He held up the ball like a lame offering, still staring at Ryeowook’s wheelchair. “I thought we could play soccer.”

“Oh, right! Aren’t tryouts for the junior high team coming up soon?” Ryeowook forced himself to smile even more widely. “Remember how we used to talk about them all the time? We promised we’d both make the team for sure.”

Kyuhyun just nodded. After following beside Zhou Mi for a few turns down the maze-like garden, he dropped the ball on the ground and began dribbling it skillfully as they walked. His legs blurred around the ball as he zigzagged, occasionally crossing at the ankles as he juggled the ball between his feet. His eyes stared down at the ball intently, missing the way his best friend’s knuckles were turning white as they gripped the sides of his wheelchair. One misfired kick caused the ball to shoot into the wheelchair’s path and Zhou Mi jerked to a stop as Kyuhyun dove in front of the wheelchair to grab it. Caught off guard, Ryeowook pitched forward onto the ground.

No one said a word as Zhou Mi easily lifted the boy back into the chair and continued pushing him along as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn’t just revealed the extent of Ryeowook’s handicap. As if he wasn’t continuously reminding Ryeowook that dreams he’d had all his life would never come true.

The ball had dropped from Kyuhyun’s hands and now lay still on the ground. “Aren’t you going to get that?” Ryeowook growled, and the air around them dropped a few degrees. Kyuhyun hastily scooped the soccer ball up and hugged it to his chest.

"Ryeowook-”

"Don’t you have practice today?” the other boy continued, eyes boring into his best friend’s so deeply the anger was nearly tangible. “You wouldn’t want to be late for that.”

Kyuhyun scowled, arms tightening around the ball as he glared at his best friend. “Fine! I didn’t want to visit this place anyways. It’s for freaks and cripples!”

“We don’t-” Zhou Mi began, but Kyuhyun had already run off, weaving through the garden until he disappeared out of sight.

“I’m tired, Zhou Mi,” Ryeowook mumbled, tearing his eyes away from the door his best friend had run through. “I want to go back.”

And somehow, those two simple sentences seemed to sum up every moment of his stay at the hospital.

Tiny pink noses reached up towards the tops of the wire mesh cages, sniffing delicately as he passed. Whiskers twitched and pink tails slithered along the ground as pink paws pressed up against the walls. Yesung reached in and harshly lifted one of the mice by its tails, dangling it high in the air. After the initial struggle, it hung limp, limbs splayed out, beady red eyes wide with terror. Yesung curled his lip.

What a disgusting creature.

Officially, his research was the study of stem cells in mouse organs, but why anyone genuinely wanted to study mice was beyond him. Pests, all of them, nasty little scavengers, feeding on seeds when they were lucky, and carrion when they weren’t.

Disgusting.

Yesung could see the mouse’s minuscule heart pounding through its fur, eyes growing wider and wider. Perhaps, if he hung it like this for a little longer, it would explode-

The door of the animal room opened and the colleague that had interrupted his studies last night greeted him brightly as he entered. “Hello, Yesung! Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Yesung’s lips curled upwards in a snarl that could be mistaken for a smile as he hastily lowered the mouse back into its cage. “Yes. It’s a beautiful day.”

Choi Siwon, the bane of Yesung’s existence. The man was a constant annoyance; always greeting him and talking to him and goddamit, didn’t he understand that Yesung was ignoring him because he didn’t want to talk to him?

Siwon was still smiling as he maneuvered around the other man’s cages and reached for his own. What possibly made the man so happy all the time was beyond Yesung.

“Hey there,” Siwon cooed, picking up a mouse gently by the tail and allowing the creature to run along his arm. Yesung suppressed a shudder as he observed the little pink claws lightly scratching at the other researcher. Siwon turned around, cuddling the beast to his chest and beaming at it like it was his newborn son. “Aren’t they cute?”

“Of course.” Siwon completely missed the sarcasm in his colleague’s voice.

“It’s so sad when we have to kill them, isn’t it?” he continued. “It’s unfortunate that there’s no other way to harvest the stem cells. Such a tragedy.”

Yesung didn’t answer, but he allowed his face to relax into a genuine smile. That was the part of his work that he enjoyed the most.

Ryeowook stared at the bag on the empty bed beside his when he finally returned to his room and Zhou Mi had helped him into bed. Why hadn’t anyone told him he was getting a roommate? Didn’t he have a right to know? He glared at Zhou Mi, but the nurse just gave him a puzzled look and a slight smile, fluffing up the pillows before he left the room.

The boy wondered what had happened to the other patient, causing him to be stuck in this place. He wondered if he could ask Zhou Mi, but he knew the nurse wouldn’t answer. Patient confidentiality and all that. Because that existed in this place with the paper thin walls and the cursing and screaming of patients as lives were turned upside down, dreams were destroyed forever.

Besides, he was still mad at Zhou Mi for not telling him about the roommate in the first place.

At that moment, another wheelchair came in sight, pushed by another male nurse that Ryeowook had seem a few times, but whose name he didn’t know.

It was the new patient, though, his new roommate, that drew his curiosity. He was clearly a young man, though his face looked like a girl’s and his shoulder-length hair did nothing to take away from that assumption. In fact, if Ryeowook didn’t know that the rehab center was only for male patients, he would have assumed the newcomer was female.

“So you’ll be taking this bed here,” the other nurse was saying.

“Yeah, whatever,” growled the patient. Ryeowook just stared as the other patient turned to look at him. He tried not to feel hurt when the other man glanced at him and sneered. “Christ, your life must be messed up, kid. What kind of girl would go for a dude-”

“That’s enough,” the nurse said firmly. He reached out to help the new patient into his bed, but the newcomer shoved his hands away.

“I can do it myself, damn it,” he growled, pushing hard on the arms of his wheelchairs so that he was standing upright. For a moment, it looked like he could do it, like he was really miraculously cured. Then he gritted his teeth and tipped forward and the nurse dove to catch him before he hit the ground.

No one said anything as the nurse helped him to the bed and pulled the blanket over him.

“If there’s anything else I can do, just let me know,” the nurse said.

"Yeah, you can get me a glass of warm milk and read me a bedtime story,” the man said sarcastically.

The nurse pursed his lips. “I-”

“Just off,” the man growled and the nurse wasted no time in leaving.

“Hey.” It took Ryeowook a moment to realize the other patient was addressing him. “Hey, you. Twinkle toes.” Ryeowook timidly turned his head. “Christ, don’t give me that expression. It makes me feel like I’m supposed to be guilty. You got a joint?”

“W-what?”

"Ah, so he does talk. Good thing your accident didn’t screw up your voice, huh?” The man sighed and leaned back against the covers. “Figured you wouldn’t have a joint. How about a cigarette? Booze? God, do they have anything good in this place?” Ryeowook just shook his head. “. Don’t think I can put up with anymore of this .”

The boy kept staring and eventually, the man growled in annoyance. “Will you stop giving me that damn wide-eyed look? Say something. Anything.”

“L-like what?”

“I don’t ing know. What’s your story?” The man snorted in derision. “Oh, wait. We’re not supposed to talk about that. It’s ‘insensitive.’ Like hell.” He sighed and leaned back in his bed. “Well, I don’t give a damn about that. ing car accident broke my damn back. Stupidest I’ve ever heard.”

Ryeowook blinked, feeling a weight in his chest that he hadn’t known about lighten. Hearing this new guy cursing and swearing over a situation so similar to his made him feel marginally better.

Marginally.

“You’ve got the look of someone who’s given up already,” the man commented, studying Ryeowook’s face. “Either that, or you’re constipated.”

“I-I haven’t given up!” Ryeowook protested. It was a lie, and they both knew it.

“Right,” his roommate smirked, stretching his arms above his head. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Ryeowook.”

“Ryeowook? What the hell kind of name is that?” the man snorted. “Well, whatever. I didn’t come up with it. Heechul.”

It took the boy a moment to react and realize that “Heechul” was the man’s name.

“N-nice to meet you, Heechul.”

“Sure. Nice to meet you and all that crap,” Heechul muttered. “So when do they let us out of this prison?”

“W-well, when your therapy is complete a-and-”

“I know that, ,” Heechul replied. “I mean, when do we get to go outside?”

“O-oh.” Ryeowook felt like an idiot. “You’d need your nurse to supervise you and-”

" that.” Heechul growled, dragging himself out from under the covers. Jaw clenched and eyes scrunched into slits, he pushed himself off the bed and settled into his wheelchair, expertly turning towards the door.

“W-where are you going?” Ryeowook called.

“To the roof,” Heechul replied with a smirk. “Wanna come?”

Dozens of dragonfly eggs burst open as Yesung ran the sonicator straight through them. He smiled as translucent shells cracked, spilling out what had once been the beginnings of a new life. Sacrifices are necessary for great discoveries.

After the eggs (no, the  infant dragonflies) were thoroughly pureed, Yesung began the irritatingly familiar pattern of working and waiting, as egg shells and insect carcasses were discarded, leaving behind the matter that he was interested in.

Centrifuge, wait, transfer. Centrifuge, wait, transfer. He listened for that moment where his instinct stopped telling him, “One more time” and finally announced, “That’s enough.” The supernatant now contained only the material he wished to examine.

Transferring the little bit of protein goo into an Eppendorf tube (funny how science was such a wasteful process, beginning with a living organism and ending with less than a milliliter of material), he began assembling the gels and dyes and antibodies needed for the next part of the experiment. With each part he completed, he felt his pulse quicken slightly.

Waiting, waiting, the endless waiting. But it would all be worth it, he reminded himself, once he confirms his years of work.

Slowly, the proteins moved through the gel, blue bands traveling downward as tiny bubbles rose from the bottom of the apparatus. It was tempting to increase the voltage, but he resisted, knowing that his impatience might destroy the delicate procedure.

And then that voice began to nag at him, after he transferred the gel to a nitrocellulose membrane and added minuscule amounts of antibodies. Who the hell decided that one microliter of primary was enough? What if they didn’t find anything? What if everything has been a waste of his precious time?

He could hear his heard pulsing in his ears as with shaking hands, he lifted the membrane out of the solution and placed it under the imager. It took five minutes to develop, and all during that time, Yesung’s legs were cold and his fingers were numb and his eyes dried up until they ached, but he couldn’t afford to allow himself to blink.

Then the image popped up on the screen and he leaned back in his seat with a broad grin.

Found it.

Wind whipped into Ryeowook’s face and his eyes flew shut as he cautiously inched his wheelchair out through the door. In front of him, Heechul had wheeled his chair all the way to the edge of the roof and now sat leaning backwards, his feet up on the edge. Reaching into his hospital gown, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.

“Swiped these off that guard we passed,” he explained in answer to the boy’s slightly alarmed gaze. “Security in this place is crap.”

“A-aren’t you scared?” Ryeowook asked, fingers unconsciously tightening around the arms of his chair.

“Of what? Falling?” Heechul smirked and glanced down over the edge. “Yeah, we’re high enough that the impact would probably kill us, if we didn’t die of shock first.” The boy shuddered and seemed to grow smaller in his chair. “Worst that could happen would be that you get maimed further, though.”

“That’s worse than death?” Ryeowook’s voice could barely be heard over the shrieking of the wind, hissing at him to turn back, turn back, turn back-

“Think about it, kid.” Heechul took a long drag on his cigarette and wheeled around. “If you die, you die. That’s it, the end, no more. But this…” He gestured to the wheelchair, to his useless legs, the vague motion encompassing their entire situation. “This is real hell, you know? You’ll never get better, but you have to keep living with it. This ing limbo is the real hell.”

He pushed on the arms of his chair and leaned forward and Ryeowook screamed, “NO!” before he could help himself.

Laughing, Heechul wheeled himself away from the edge of the roof. “You’re cute, kid. I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Y-you’re not going to jump?” Ryeowook asked. He wanted to run back to his room, run to his house, get away from this crazy lunatic.

“Not today,” Heechul replied. “I don’t feel like it. It might be a good rush, though. You never know what’ll happen.”

"You’ll die!” Ryeowook snapped as Heechul wheeled past him and for the door. He struggled to keep up, uncoordinated arms pushing at the wheels and inching himself back.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Heechul shrugged. “Who knows? God might give you a break if he thinks you’ve suffered enough.” He grinned faintly as he glanced over his shoulder at the boy. “Hell, with all we’ve gone through? He just might catch you.”