Minho tried his utmost best to keep his excitement and anxiety at the same level. He needed to stop twitching and keep fighting the urge to skip down the hallways as he and the guards made their way through all of the building to Minho’s destination.

Taemin. That was his destination.

He was going to see Taemin, finally, and was given the chance to explain himself; to try and ease Taemin as he would immerse into a new wave of science. Minho couldn’t say ‘immerse into a new world’ because, they were still in the same world of people, just . . . new information was discovered yet hidden.

It was a good ten minutes of walking and warping to multiple parts of the building, getting lower and lower by floor. Minho’s heart beat so fast he could just collapse. He was growing more and more nervous with each step and ready to get sick.

What would he say? Or how should he start? Where would Taemin be? What would the room look like? Would they be alone? Would SangJung be there? Was this a trick?

Minho gulped.

A trick.

SangJung could surely be playing a trick with him. He’s done it enough already. He could really be sending Minho to a dingy hospital bed, ready to cut him open and explore him.

That’s what he was told yesterday. Surgery. They hadn’t been inside a Daegrent for a long time—SangJung had mentioned that woman, Trinity, went under the same procedure with far worse tools and inexperienced people. SangJung said that it was ‘luck’ Minho didn’t have to go through with that.

They wanted to examine his blood stream, the stem connecting his wings, and he even mentioned some . . . trigger of an organ. The place where it takes the signals to snap Minho into a Daegrent. It was a supposed rare find, considering they could barely find it in Trinity, and Minho was the mouse in the box heading for scientific research.

Minho wasn’t too keen on letting himself be a bigger rat than he already was. They could’ve examined him while he was out cold a week ago, blood stream already open for everyone to see.

But no. That’d the fun out of it for SangJung.

Minho soon was approached to a dead end, face-to-face with a metal door, heavy locks plastered all over. It made him anxious to know what awaited him on the other side. Was it what he expected to be Taemin or an operating table?

There was only one way to find out and Minho tensed up.

One by one, the hand locks were being taken off, censors shut down, and a hiss in the background confirmed it was open. The longer it took, the more Minho’s stomach turned in knots, his curiosity and his anxiousness mixing together and hell, it wasn’t pleasant.

  “Alright, boy,” SangJung yelled as he came out of the door, “From Taemin’s condition, we’re forced to create a barrier. So you can’t touch him at all; no whining.

  “We can hear you, but I can’t see you. Kapsoo can from the other side, so be aware of yourself. Take him in.”

Minho breathed, a little light headed. He was really seeing Taemin—he was getting excited.

He was let in, the door slamming behind him after being released. The place was bright; equivalent to a bathroom. There was a glass wall blocking of the other side of the room, and no doubt Taemin was going to enter from the other side.

His palms were sweaty, slightly shaking as he went to sit in front of the glass to wait. Hopefully Taemin would come. Hopefully he would listen. Hopefully he could look at him.

Just to see if Taemin was doing better than before. Minho just wanted to know if he’d stopped screaming or crying, that he was eating and was showing some sign of being better.

This moment could determine if Minho found reason to escape.

The door on the other side opened, revealing an old man with Taemin’s arms in his hands. He was blindfolded, following the man’s direction as he whispered into his ear and sat him down a good distance away from the glass in front of Minho.

Minho watched intently as the man spoke to Taemin in a hush so he couldn’t hear. The man looked at Minho with a blank stare before turning and slowly moving his way out.

And there, Minho knew they were being watched by him.

His tongue was stuck in his throat—he felt dried up and shriveled to sand. Taemin was here in front of him, sitting there, normal.

After so long, Minho was seeing him again. There he was, just right there, and Minho got to take him in again. He never felt so relieved yet so on edge before—it wasn’t something to love or hate, but maybe neutral about.

Minho wanted to growl, seeing the red from splitting his chapped lips, a few bruises on his face and neck, thinner than before, just . . . marks from abuse. He could kill whoever had done these things to him, but that had to wait for now. He had something to do.

Now give him the chance to explain—explain as much as he could!

  “. . . Tae?” he whispered.

Taemin perked a little, maybe possibly hearing him.

  “Tae,” he spoke a little louder, “Tae, it’s me. You can hear me, I know you can.”

Taemin’s mouth pressed into a tight line, swallowing rather hard as he fidgeted with his hands. He was still scared. He was still afraid.

  “Don’t take off that blindfold,” he suggested, “Just hear me out.”

He stood still.

  “I’m not dangerous,” Minho swore, “Taemin, I’ve never hurt you before, haven’t I? I’ve never . . . I just haven’t, not even that day.” Minho breathed out, hand brushing back his hair, “I never told you because I was, well, I was afraid of you.”

Taemin’s hands started fidgeting again. Minho took it as a good sign.

  “I mean, Seunghyun. . .” Seunghyun, “Seunghyun is my guardian, and he’s known best since forever. I have to follow what he does or else it makes everything unsafe. And I’d never want you to be unsafe.

  “That’s why I vowed to never change. Never do destruction. Never fight—none of it. I wanted to give that up for you. I wanted to only use what I needed to get me up every day to see you.”

Minho pressed his hands on the glass, “Taemin, I’d never hurt you. I only want to protect you, but guess where that got both of us? I didn’t want your life in danger, and it won’t be when you’re with me, I swear. None of it will happen again. None of it, I swear.”

He had so much planned to say, but now that he had the chance, he didn’t know what to say. It all escaped him and all he could do was make swears and promises to Taemin. If that could fix anything, then he’d continue it.

  “If you want, I’ll let you know everything. Anything you want, just let me know. I’ve wanted to explain to you everything about me since I became friends with you. Hell, I wanted to tell everyone, but what good would be to create so much chaos from curiosity?”

Taemin’s tight line of lips started faltering downward. Minho knew that he was crying, but from what, he didn’t know. How could he know?

There was only one thing he wanted Taemin to know, to make his point. To make his point that neither of them belonged here.

  “I’m not a monster,” Minho whispered, “I’m not a monster. I’m just like you, right now. Just like you. We’re equal, Taemin, I swear on that. Don’t listen to them. I’m not a monster . . . Taemin, can you hear me?”

Taemin gripped on his blindfold, freezing there as he inhaled, “I—I . . .”

God, just hearing his muffled voice was relieving yet heartbreaking.

  “I d-don’t know. I can’t—I can’t trust you. Monster. You’re . . . monster. I’m . . . I’m a . . . not monster. You . . .”

What was he talking about? It sounded coherent, but at the same time he was speaking gibberish in between. Did they drug him? Was he half awake?

Minho stood, pressing himself to the glass, “Taemin, think about what I said.”

Taemin shriveled down, hands into his blindfold, “Lies . . . creatures lie. They lie. That’s all they do. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. . . Lie. You’re a demon. Hell. I can’t go to hell. There’s no such thing as Minho, there’s no such thing as Minho, there’s no . . .”

He took the blindfold off, looking down on the ground. Minho could see the heavy dark circles and bags under his eyes. He had red marks, scratches down the sides of his face, looking as if he did it himself.

He was the definition of ‘look of despair’, and Minho almost hit the glass wall to shatter it and fix that.

  “Taemin? Taemin, are you okay?!” Minho yelled, hand heavily coming on contact with the glass on accident, causing Taemin to jump back from sitting.

His eyes had the look of alarm as he finally looked at Minho. His jaw trembled—his whole body trembled, starting to thrash around as he backed up and screamed.

  “There’s no such thing as Minho! There’s no such thing as Minho! You . . . go away, go away, get out of here, go away, leave me alone! Don’t hurt me, don’t do it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Help me, Kapsoo, help me!” He shouted and cried, his tired eyes producing tears as he crawled back for the door.

  “Taemin, stop! Wait!” Minho banged on the glass, “Taemin, wait, it’s me, I swear, I’m real! Don’t—don’t look at me like that, please! Taemin I’m not going to hurt you! I won’t hurt you, please!”

  “It’s going to kill me, help!” he finally turned away, banging on the door, “Kapsoo, don’t leave me here!”

Minho’s mind burst into fire, his blood boiling in anger. Kapsoo was telling him things. Kapsoo made him like this—broken, beaten, tired, and delusional. That old man disposed of the Taemin he knew. Taemin wasn’t scared because that wasn’t Taemin at all! Taemin was trapped inside that body, but Kapsoo’s company has brought out someone else!

They first took him, the innocent, away.

Took Seunghyun, the guardian, away.

And now Taemin, the everything.

How much more was he going to be put through?

The door Taemin clawed on opened and Kapsoo reached for him, pulling him up to his feet as the younger buried his head away.

  “You!” Minho shouted, banging on the glass, “You did this to him! You did this to us! You couldn’t give me a chance?!”

Kapsoo looked up, the devastation from Taemin’s reaction clear on his face. He sealed that emotion away, though, giving Minho a hard, blank stare as he watched him fire up.

  “I want him back!” Minho roared, no longer bothering to control his own body, “You bring him back to me, Kapsoo, I swear!”

Minho yelled out as his vision turned colorless, his skin crawled with his marks, and his wings violently ripped from his back.

Minho screamed at the roughness of his wings and fell to his knees. The one wing wasn’t healed yet, only the human form was. It took double the strength to take both out, and it hurt.

He looked up when he heard Taemin scream again. Not a horror-movie-girl-scream, but a scream as if he were being gutted to death.

Taemin was staring at his horrifying, pitiful form, the sight of Minho becoming a scarring nightmare before his eyes, “Kapsoo, I want. I want to do it. I need you to make me f—”

He shook even harder until his eyes lolled back and he fell.

  “T-Taemin!” Minho called out, clawing at the glass. He couldn’t get up. His wings were too heavy, and he could feel his blood all over them, watching an abundance of red slip off his wings, on his arms and to the floor beside his knees, “Taemin, I’m not a monster! I love you, I’m not a monster!”

It felt too hot again; like branding his arm. It was all over him, pinning him down under his own weight, fighting to keep staring as Kapsoo and other men started really aiding Taemin.

  “What have you done—” Minho weakly yelled to them, “What have I done . . .”

He could faintly hear the door open behind him and hands gently (a shock) gripping on to Minho as they pulled him up and put him on something—maybe a stretcher—on his stomach. No one bothered restraining him down, but all of them yelled away, rolling him from the room in a rush, even someone holding his hand.

  “Take him away, now!” SangJung threatened, “I’ll deal with the later, go before I kill him on sight!”

He was more than hastily taken for away, the hand continuously squeezing his. It was the only thing he could physically feel than the pain.

Now, what he felt emotionally . . . he couldn’t even think about it.

  “M609, stay with me, here,” Luna shouted, “M609, we’re not losing you. Hold on, just hold on!”

  “There’s no reason to pep talk with it!”

  “Shut up!” Luna threatened, yelling, “You may have lived here all your life, so you have no ing heart! I do, so I’ll do what I feel with it! Now keep moving or I’ll tear the muscle in your arm so you know what it feels like!

  “M609? M609, come on, slow down that breathing, you hear me? You’re not dying, not yet. It’s just pain, just pain!

  “In here! In here! Yes, this door! I’m in charge of him! Go get Hyoyeon and that new American guy! Go!”

Minho didn’t know at all what was going on, but Luna was surely taking charge. More than ever, he couldn’t be more grateful than now to have her holding his hand.

He was hurting to so much and he didn’t know which was hurting more—his body or his heart. Just her being there was helping.

  “Come on, Minho,” she breathed, scrambling of metal objects heard, “Minho, you shouldn’t have done that! Your wing. . . goddamn it your wing base almost cut through your heart, what were you thinking! This close, Minho, and it’s causing you to die!

  “You can’t go yet, Minho!” Luna yelled, seemingly doing something with a tool, but Minho could only feel the squeeze of her hand, “You can’t! We haven’t even tried yet! We haven’t even gone anywhere and you’re already trying to leave the wrong way! Minho, we can’t go anywhere without you! We can’t leave this place without you, so top being an —!”

There was a loud crack followed by a gross gush of fluid.

The pain suddenly stopped. His heart was suddenly calmed. His wings went light and limp.

Luna finally breathed again, taking whatever tool she had away from the base of his injured wing and let it fall to the floor, “I know you hear me. Your wings . . . didn’t grow out this time, but ripped from the inside. The base . . . the base of your injured wing shifted inward and it was wrong. It was tearing your upper torso apart.

  “I—I moved it back into p-place,” she coughed, “You have a new tear in your back . . . you just . . . I’m sorry.”

Minho whined a little when she let go of his hand. It felt empty now. He felt so empty now.

  “Oh—Hyoyeon and . . .”

  “Chad.”

  “Chat,” she tried, “Just . . . thank god you’re here.”

  “Is he . . .” the guy asked.

  “No . . . just . . . stop the bleeding, clean him off, and bandage his upper torso, but extra careful bandaging around his left wing.”

  “Alright, calm down Luna, no need for waterfalls,” the girl said, “Look, go clean off your arms and grab his hand. He’s even twitching for you,” she playfully chuckled, “Hopefully Onew doesn’t mind.”

Luna shakily laughed and pulled up a stool beside Minho, taking his hand again with both of hers, leaning her forehead towards him, “You’re so needy.”

Minho was bandaged and cleaned before moved to a proper bed and still on his stomach and his wings limp. Hyoyeon and Chad left the room with polite goodbyes, leaving Luna to keep her hand with Minho’s, her other one brushing Minho’s hair soothingly.

  “You decided,” Minho whispered, slightly opening his eyes, confronting her earlier words.

Luna looked at him in the eyes, sighing, “If any of you go down, then this time, we all go down.”

Minho slightly smiled, “Sorry I’m back down here, again.”

The elder sighed, trying to tame the curls in his face, “You’re so dramatic, always getting into trouble. As long as I get to keep you alive, it’s okay with me.”

Minho chuckled, squeezing her hand, “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you had feelings for me. Sorry, I’m not straight. I got a boyfriend somewhere here in the place. I don’t want him to catch me experimenting.”

Minho didn’t know how he could joke around about Taemin at this point, but those heavy drugs Hyoyeon and Chad gave him must’ve lightened him up.

Luna gasped before she flicked his forehead, making him flinch. But she breathed a short, slightly amused chuckle, rubbing the spot.

  “.”

----Note~-----

I wonder if I really mislead anyone into thinking someone died, by the chapter title.

No? Didn't expect it to happen either. xD

But HI.

Like I said before, Taemin was making his wild appearance and . . . it went south.

I'm trying to keep it on the realistic side because, I know I'd still be crazy after witnessing some sort of supernatural/monster/zombie happening. Wouldn't you??

And Jessica's PMSing almost cost Minho his life. Twice. Poor dearie. Bad Rinapture is baaaaad.

So, little notice, it's only been the second week of school, and my is being kicked. So much hasn't really been done, but AP (english) is taking so much effort.

My sleeping schedule is messed up. Well, messed right, in terms of school, but messed up when it comes to leisure. I can't stay up past eight anymore because I'm so drained. =.= I am not a strong one.

So, I think it'll be hard to find time to write, this year, and however long ETR is going to be.

But I still have a few chapters writen before that point comes.

So, thank you for reaaaddddiiinggggg~

BYE

~FlaMinhoe

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