“O-Onew! Onew, he’s coming to!”

He recognized Luna and became thankful that he didn’t feel like he was boiling in a furnace.

Minho heard a rush of movement, sounds parading around him after the feminine voice urgently called. His head was pounding painfully and he felt oddly stiff on his left. The black behind his eyes made him sick and dizzy.

He tried to move, but he groaned as his entire left contorted in pain. Minho groggily opened his eyes, trying to make out what happened while he tensed up. There was Jessica, claws, dirt, more dirt, and . . . god he didn’t want to even think anymore.

  “Hey, buddy,” he could hear Onew, only seeing him as a shadow, “Hey, Minho, come on. Come back, we’re here. Woo-hoo, Minho. Get out of the funk.”

  “With you talking like that, he’ll think he’s in a child’s nightmare,” Luna scoffed, her hand wrapping around Minho’s right wrist, “Come on, sweetheart. Follow my voice, not the idiot’s. You’re awake.”

Minho blinked, his vision clear, but felt very hazy. He didn’t like the odd feeling in his eyes—how heavy they were—, but worse was his nostrils. He smelled earth, and it wasn’t the pleasant kind he’d find as air freshener at the store.

  “Hey, Minho,” Luna greeted softly, “How’s the pain?”

Minho grunted and sighed, trying to get a look around, “Painful.” It looked like an actual hospital room. It was settling to his stomach to say the least—hopefully it was a rather sane place unlike the rest. It was unusually cold, but Minho found it partially comforting; like it was a real hospital.

Luna nodded sympathetically, patting his hand as she looked at Onew, “Onew heard the news that the only Daegrent here was plastered into a wall and headed straight down for you. He found you less than a mile in. He’s got dirt all up in his nose.”

Minho groaned, closing his eyes again, “I never thought I’d hate dirt so much. But thank you, Hyung.”

Onew kept quiet.

He opened his eyes again, looking back at Luna urgently, “Jessica?”

  “Well,” she pulled her brows together, thumb running circles on Minho’s wrist, “Jessica’s been tamed by force. She’s locked down in the cellars below the second basement, so you won’t be seeing her. And . . . her claw dug past your feathers and into the baseline of your wing. It’s the same as stabbing someone in the arm. Veins, vessels, blood, bone, all that. She dug pretty deep,” she looked at Minho, finally speaking to him, “A Daegrent’s healing process, as you would know, takes a week. But with the wing being the most delicate structure, it may be longer. If you try turning again, you could potentially die from blood loss. No joke, something could go seriously wrong.”

The last thing Minho needed to hear was how long recovery would take. Even though it was important, that still meant he was hindered for a good while and couldn’t do anything to progress (unless he would force himself). What would SangJung do if Minho couldn’t work?

Still work him, he bet.

  “,” he cursed as he tried getting up, splitting pain all the way up his side, “Why is the entire left of my body in this much pain? It’s just a wing.”

Onew helped him sit up, bringing the head of the bed up at a straight angle for him. Onew’s eyes were distant, almost not even hearing Minho. Minho certainly noticed and he found the look familiar—almost like Taemin being guilty.

So Minho knew it was guilt, by recognition.

Luna said nothing either for that moment, watching Onew.

  “What?” Minho asked, already knowing Luna was just feeling upset that Onew must’ve been feeling guilt. But what was the guilt even for?

Luna jumped, paying attention to Minho again, “I have no knowledge of the Daegrent’s anatomy,” she went on as if he never asked a question, “But from previous encounters with winged creatures, I can assume when the wing goes back into your back, the tissue, blood, and veins retreat to that half of the body as if they were moved from the spot it was in from human form. The inside of your body shifts with your wings.”

Minho recognized the information as she spoke—Seunghyun forcing him to study all those books wasn’t paying off if he couldn’t even remember his own anatomy. He didn’t expect his entire side to contort; maybe only his back. But Minho tried to brush it aside the best he could.

  “Forget the injury—”

  “Forget the injury?” Onew stared at him as if he were crazy, finally speaking, “Minho, half of your body is torn and you’ve been out cold for over twenty-four hours!”

Minho shook his head, his neck stiff, “That’s not important. It was sort of worth it—the proof is under my pants.”

Luna looked at him like he was crazy, her cheeks flushing as she stopped herself from slapping his arm, “What are you talking about?!”

The youngest suddenly felt his face growing red, modifying his sentence, “Pull up my pant legs! God, Luna, I didn’t realize you were like that!”

Her own face grew redder before she stared Onew down, as if daring him to unravel the pant leg first.

The two humans then pulled them up (Onew having to be extra careful at the left). They raised the material, both furrowing brows as they took the scrolls from his calves.

  “Minho . . .” Luna spoke, completely cautious, unraveling the scrolls.

Minho shook his head, “I’ll hide them, don’t worry.”

Luna’s eyes traced all over the visual information, her eyes widening and the laminated paper in her hands, crinkling it unpleasantly. kept opening and closing, confused with what she was looking at.

  “Minho, you grabbed maps!” Luna blew up, her face even redder, “Of course they’re going to notice and investigate! You tore up your body more just to ask for death?!”

Onew rushed to her and snatched the maps from her, setting them down on the counter as he looked at her cautiously, almost pleadingly, “Luna, calm down.”

  “SangJung will have our asses, Onew! We’ll die before he would!”

Onew cringed at the sentence as Minho stared at her in disbelief. The room got eerily quiet, both boys unsure how to feel. Should Minho feel upset? Insulted?

Luna clenched her fists, apologies written on her face as she quickly explained, “Minho, I’m so sorry. It’s not that I want you to die or that you’re supposed to die, but just . . .” she blew steam and clutched her hair, “why do you even have these maps?”

Disregarding the beginning, letting go of feeling insult, Minho’s thoughts turned another way. Luna didn’t know anything, he’d realized.

He pointed at Onew then to Luna accusingly, “You didn’t tell her?”

Onew turned red just like the two of them had before, hand messing with his hair, “Um . . . I thought it wasn’t the right time when we kept meeting up.”

Lost, Luna gestured for him to go on, wanted to be included in their little circle.

  “Luna . . .” Onew hesitantly looked at her. She looked at him expectantly, to explain what was so obvious but so oblivious to her.

Onew twiddled with his thumbs for a moment before closing distance with her, looking up, “Luna . . . we’re planning . . . escape.”

At the word escape, she froze, eyes on Onew as she grew ridged—she looked so . . . frightened.

 Minho tried moving closer to her with his arm, seeing the fright, unintentionally trying to sweet talk her, “Um, Noona—”

  “Again?” Luna spoke, her eyes glistening as they kept on Onew, “Again?”

  “It won’t be like last time! Not at all!” Onew moved around the bed, “It won’t be just humans. Three humans and two creatures. We have a bigger chance of leaving,” he took her hands, pleading.

Luna pushed him away roughly, “No—No!”

Onew grabbed her by her arms, gripping her in place as he looked at her less pleadingly, but more seriously, “Luna, our chances have changed. For the better!”

 She struggled out of his grip, shoving him away again and shook her head, a dark and craziness blazing in her eyes, backing herself from the boys, “Don’t move too much, Minho,” she spoke through tight lips, “You’ll heal faster.”

She made her way to the door, stopping before she opened it, giving Minho a devoid stare, “Don’t ever call me Noona, again.”

  “Luna!” Onew shouted for her, but she left in a rush. Onew didn’t even try to run after her.

Minho let silence settle, watching Onew stare at the door in trepidation.

So, Onew and Luna tried leaving before—and needless to say, it hadn’t gone well.

But what . . . scarred Luna?

Minho didn’t want to Onew to relive something just to explain it, but if Luna was included, he had to know, “What happened?” Minho quietly asked, “The last time, I mean.”

Onew finally moved, slowly sitting beside Minho while rubbing his face, his eyes slightly red, “The last time . . .”

Minho watched as Onew’s voice failed him, unable to tell him a single thing.

Whatever had happened last time with these two had left a mark in their memories. And the only thing Minho could think of that could do that here was death.

He grew rigid with his conclusion and clenched his jaw. Someone died. Someone close to Onew and Luna. Someone who wasn’t supposed to die.

Minho would understand Luna’s behavior.

Onew paused, staring at the door as if hoping Luna would come flying in, “We had a decent plan. Luna, her little brother and I were escaping. We were caught at the gate and . . .” he sighed, “Luna’s brother had a gun and we didn’t know. The reckless ten-year-old thought he was James Bond.”

Onew choked up for a second and Minho put his right hand on his shoulder, strongly shaking him for comfort. Minho was preparing for the worst—and the worst was the truth.

  “His imagination turned around when James Bond turned out to be the soldier aiming for his chest.” Onew paused again, his eyes flickering to Minho before looking down to his hands, “Luna . . . Luna refused to go any further even though the gate was wide open. She . . . she went back, so I did, too. They stopped shooting once we turned around and stopped. I—I held the kid for her as she tried doing whatever she could to help him live . . . It turned out she didn’t come back to heal him, but to watch him die.”

Minho watched as water dropped from Onew’s covered eyes, the man’s nose red.

Minho knew he was preparing for the worst, but that didn’t stop it from hurting him after listening.

  “Luna never let it go. And she never wants to go through that again. She’s afraid I would do something, you could do something, or Jonghyun could do something to end up like her little brother.”

Minho felt his throat constrict, aching as he tried to picture the child just falling to Luna’s feet.

A ten year old boy who died with a gun in his hand.

The place was sick and twisted, truly proving to be a living hell. It was cruel to say, but to kill Onew or Luna would be completely better—and the both of them had to know it. To kill a child was too much blood on one’s hand. Only because the human was young. To kill a younger soul was still too much blood, but at least they had the bigger chance of living.

Minho felt so much abuse even though these were only words. He was feeling the abuse of an innocent soul of the dead.

  “I know she’s afraid,” Onew started again, “But now we have to try again. Personal reasons. She needs to leave this place to get rid of her brother’s death in the front of her brain. It’s my job to do the best for her.”

  “But isn’t it the same job for her in Luna’s perspective?”

Onew ruffled his hair in exasperation, shaking his head, “She may be the stronger one in mind, but I am when coming to strength,” he clenched his fists, hitting his thigh in irritation, “I have to protect the mind as a shield—as the skull. I have to protect her first. Just as much as I protect you, Jonghyun, and Taemin.”

Guiltily, Minho shook Onew’s shoulder once more, keeping quiet. Onew truly did have a lot more stress that Minho thought and it made matters worse even though Onew’s will was growing stronger.

Onew’s past was opening up to Minho and this caused the need to reconstruct any plans to be assured Onew and Luna don’t go through any more hell.

It wasn’t fair to make Onew work as much as he was altogether, but just a while longer and he could rest. Where they could all rest, smile, and find family.

With motivation, the reconstructed plan couldn’t fail.

----Note~----

Yellow. c:

Um. Well. It's been a really long freaking time.

I haven't finished those AP assignments either.

But I felt really neglecting towards this, after writing the first page of another chapter, so I'mma update. Only a day late. xD

So... Minho's not dead! ... Obviously! 

The last chapter was so crappy omfg. I can't forgive myself for putting that up, that was not my best. It was just a really crappy filler chapter, I'm sorry. D:

Nonetheless, another progression in the story! We know Luna's past with escaping! She has to have one of the saddest stories of the whole thing. 

Well. Actually. They ALL have sad stories. DEPRESSED PEOPLE. C:

(Even SangJung!)

So, do you think Luna's really going to come along? Or is she going to stay behind? Maybe help but still stay? You neveeerrr knoooow.

And poor Minho bby. Not allowed to change or he could really die. Uh oooohhhh....

Foreshadowing yet? :P

Anyway, thank you all for still reading, all the comments from the previous chapter, and all the increasing subs (and to any LJ readers who migrated over here). <3

I'm really proud of this story. c:

Byeee~

~FlaMinhoe

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