The pain running through his body is worse and worse and he wishes to fall asleep again. He wishes not to feel this pain. This pain following him all his life. He wishes to fall into oblivion, escaping from this suffering which he has to survive every day. But he knows it’s just a dream which is never going to come true. He just can’t escape, that’s not possible. He will stay here to the end of his life. In the darkness, coldness, without anything, just he and an old dirty bloodstained floor.

Wait a minute.

There’s something under him but it’s definitely not a cold floor. That’s... a bed. He doesn’t even remember when he was lying on the bed the last time. Soft and comfortable. The smell of washed bed linen makes him sigh contentedly. Just-...

What?!

He opens his eyes wide, regretting it in following moment. The sharp light cutting his eyes makes him yell. It hurts too much; his eyes are filling with tears.

Light. Sunlight – he realizes. What happens? Where is he? He is confused. Where is that musty room where he has spent last years of his short life? His body is torn in fear of the unknown. Is he still sleeping? No, that’s not possible, the pain is too real. He can hear click of the door. His body freezes instantly, shivering. He keeps his eyes closed; tears are still streaming his face. He’s not use to the light.

“Are you okay?”

He has to repeat it for himself several times to understand. He opens his eyes wide again, the light isn’t as sharp as it was but it’s still uncomfortable.

He looks around the room. The first things he notices are yellow stars painted on a light blue ceiling. He looks to the left. There’s light a brown wardrobe and a table in the same color. A bedside lamp is light blue too. Leather chair, bookshelf, open door... His eyes finally find Yesung.

In the first moment he doesn’t realize there’s something different. But he doesn’t smell any alcohol or the scent of blood. He smells something he doesn’t know but it’s the most pleasant scent he has smelled in last years of his life. This room is light and warm instead the cold cell. And in the end the person standing at the door. But it’s not that man who showed him living hell. This is... No, he can’t say who this man is. He doesn’t know it. He can’t recognize the person watching him. He can’t determine emotions reflecting in his face – he doesn’t know it’s a concern with sorrow. Just because it was too long when anybody showed him any different emotion than cruelty, hatred and scorn.

Yesung looks at the boy lying on the bed, waiting. He’s not sure if he heard him at all.

“Can you hear me?” he asks, drawing near.

The boy flinches in fear, trying to sit. In another moment the pain makes him cry. Yesung runs to him, pushing him back to the bed.

“Lie down or you will hurt yourself,” he says quietly, releasing him. He wants to check his temperature, lifting his hand up. He pauses in surprise when the boy recoils from him even before he can touch him. He pulls his hand away, looking to his eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says slowly to make the boy understand. He doesn’t move, waiting for any reaction. He doesn’t want to scare him.

The boy can see something in man’s eyes making him nod. He stares at him timidly; the hand is drawing near to his face. He’s waiting for a punch although something tells him it’s not going to happen. Yesung moves slowly, trying to get boy’s confidence. He reminds him scared puppy.

Brown-haired boy cowers subconsciously; he is terrified of the moment when that man will touch him. What will happen? He closes his eyes tightly, grabbing the edge of blanket. But everything he feels is just the warm palm touching his forehead.

“You still have a fever,” the man says and in another moment the palm disappears from his forehead. He opens eyes slowly, meeting a chocolate glance of man’s eyes.

Yesung just smiles, standing up. He frowns, swearing in his mind, when the boy cowers in fear again just at the moment when he moves. And at that time he’s dying to strangle the person who hurt the boy like that.

+++

He comes back to the room with a pill and a glass of water in his hands. He sighs when he looks at the boy.

“I asked you to lie,” he says, coming to the bed and leaving a glass with pill on a bedside table. He turns to the boy who watches him with fear in his eyes, pressing his back against the wall. He is hugging his knees, gripping a little pillow.

“Why are you afraid of me?” Yesung sits on the edge of the bed, sighing again. The boy doesn’t seem to answer. He looks confused and he can’t understand what happened. He can’t remember. When he came here? Who is that man? A splitting headache blinds his mind and his whole body hurts.

“You don’t speak?” Yesung is decided not to give up. He wants to hear him. Just a word. He wants to know why the boy is so scared. He wants to know what happened. He suspects subconsciously something. He’s almost sure but that imagination is too terrible to believe. He has seen so many cases like this. And he can’t even imagine how dreadful it must be. And horrible suffering is always followed by horrible consequences. He watches this crippled body. He wonders how he was able to come to his house. Where did he come from? He couldn’t walk a long way. And...

“What’s your name?” he asks. At least he hopes in this response.

The boy is still slumped in a corner of the bed, trying to remember. But while he is making an effort to recall, his headache is still worse. He presses his palm to his forehead, closing his eyes. The pain becomes intolerable. Some fragments of memories are coming back to his mind; last night is suddenly clearer. He starts to realize what happened. He escaped. He did it... He doesn’t know how but he did. He ran to a street and then... No, he doesn’t remember. And after that he woke up here. He feels as if his head should burst.

“You have to swallow a pill,” he can hear, feeling a touch on his hand. He winces and he yells in fear. Still Yesung doesn’t release his hand, although he relaxes his grip. He tries to calm him down with soothing words. But the boy shivers as Yesung would like to kill him instead to help him.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” he says louder than he planned. The boy shivers much more, hiding his face in his pillow. Yesung just sighs, this is worthless. He releases his hand and he straightens up. The boy calms immediately down when he doesn’t feel any dangerous touch. Still he dodders. It takes several minutes before he composes himself. He tries to breathe calmly, listening. He can’t hear anything.

Maybe he’s gone, he thinks to himself. But when he looks up, he figures out the man is still sitting near him, staring at him.

“If you don’t swallow it, it won’t stop hurt. I just want to help you, not to wound you. I don’t know what happened to you but you can trust me – you are safe here,” Yesung says after an instant of silence, using his most persuasive tone.

He takes a glass with a pill, giving it to the boy. But he doesn’t come closer; he wants to give him a choice to refuse. And if he does, Yesung won’t force him.

“It will help you,” he says softly. The boy looks alternately at him and at his hands. Finally – despite all Yesung’s expectations – he lifts cautiously his own hands. He touches fearfully the glass as if he expects the man will hurt him at the moment he will do it. But Yesung doesn’t move. He’s waiting quietly. He gives him a glass, holding out another hand to the boy. There’s a little pill on his palm. The boy stares suspiciously at him but he takes it.

Yesung smiles pleasantly, watching the boy swallowing a pill and drinking water. He celebrates this little victory in his mind. But he knows that means nothing. They will need a lot of time and patience. Both.

He stretches out his hand to a glass. First the boy flinches but after that he grasps, giving it back to him. Yesung stands up, putting a glass on his bedside table and walking over to a door. The boy watches his back, hesitating if he should speak. In the end he takes a breath.

“I am Ryeowook,” he whispers quietly. Yesung stops in the middle of step, he stands without any movement for a while and finally he turns to the boy, giving him a friendly smile.

“Yesung.”

A/N: Hope you like it ^^. And please write me which mistakes you found in my English (at least the worst mistakes, I know there are too many mistakes to write them all) to improve it in another chapter. Thank you for you support :)