Jongin runs.

His legs are giving out under his weight, but he keeps running down the endless surgical floor, afraid of the unexpected at the end of the hallway. Shaky hands on the gurney, he pushes it with what was left of his strength. Another intern is pumping oxygen into the mask that covers half of Wu Shixun’s face, but the unconscious boy’s chest was limp - he was barely breathing.

Jongin is on the verge of tears when he’s done putting on his scrub suit. He chafed his hands so hard with soap that it felt like acid on his skin. This can’t be happening. Wu Shixun - Sehun - can’t be the one lying there, motionless, sinking further and further into the pale white sheets, with an aneurysm in his brain and an oxygen mask on his face. This can’t be the result of the four years Jongin has been running away from the truth, eating ramen on a daily basis and drowning himself in medical books to buy his time. Now Jongin’s at the top of his game - his dream fulfilled as he wished - and now Sehun’s life is shattered..

His BP is too low.

What the hell happened?

Where is Oh Su Ho, the smiley, angel-faced father who would freak out if his dear son gets the slightest fever? Where is Suho when Sehun needs him most? Where is he when Sehun was put into that torturous house?

But most importantly, Jongin had to ask himself, where were you when all of this went wrong?

“Dr. Zhang,” Jongin bows at his sunbae as he steps into the OR. The smell of antiseptic is already making his head spin.

The older man nods. Jongin can almost see the remorse in his eyes, which is a rare sight as Dr. Zhang is deemed the coldest and most stoic man in the department. He rarely smiles, rarely blinks, and never shows more than professionalism in any surgery. It’s hard to match that rueful and regretful eyes with this brilliant surgeon before him, Jongin thinks.

“Ah, Jonginie, my favorite student. I believe you are perfect to scrub in today. He’s the son of an acquaintance of mine, so don’t screw up and follow my lead, okay?” Dr. Zhang says as he holds up a scalpel. Jongin is nervous , but he can’t back down now. Suddenly, Sehun’s life is his to save and Jongin feels a little bit light-headed.

But everything will go through...will it? Doctor Zhang Yi Xing is chief of the neurosurgical team under which Jongin studied. He recently came to Korea with his family for a change of air. Sehun’s lucky to have him. Jongin’s relieved now. Sehun will get through this.

“Dr. Zhang, you know Oh Su-I mean, you know Wu Yi Fan?” Jongin gathers the courage to ask as Yixing has Sehun’s head split open with a smooth flick of his wrist, a procedure he has grown used to through the years.

“Yes and yes. It’s a long story but, Oh Su Ho is my husband and Wu Yi Fan is my cousin.”

Zhang Yi Xing’s voice is like soothing music in the static operation room. It’s the only thing that’s less dreadful than the unstable beeping of the machine measuring of Sehun’s heart.

“Ne?” Jongin widens his eyes. Since when is Zhang Yi Xing suddenly...Sehun - no, Shixun’s father, who is supposed to be Wu Yi Fan? His head hurts from trying to connect the dots, but so far everything has been him trying to get out of the murky waters of the truth. Everyone is hiding everything.

“Don’t make me have to repeat that, Jonginie.”

Dr.Zhang’s voice is stern, so Jongin shuts his mouth before he loses his sanity to the eeriness of the operation room. His hands are spotted with Sehun’s blood as they clutch the string that is Sehun’s life. Jongin can’t even cry.

Somewhere on the other side, Sehun’s still dreaming.

Jongin greedily hopes that he’s there, too, with Sehun, protecting him, helping him, hugging him.

///

Chanyeol drops his guitar case by the side walk. He starts to run, the stillness of the night invaded by vexatious sirens and flashing lights. The Wu estate is suddenly turned upside down by chaos, police cars surrounding the front yard of their mansion. Something is very wrong.

The crisp winter wind constricts his throat, but Chanyeol can’t even stop to catch his breath. He sees Sehun’s angelic face in his mind, and tears start to flow. He dreads to think about the possible outcomes of this tragedy, but they strike him like a ton of bricks. His head is pounding, his chest tightens at the thought of Luhan hurting Sehun again. He was there, he was involved, yet he did nothing to stop that monster from ruining Sehun’s life.

No, no, no, no...Sehun...please be okay please be okay please be okay....

Chanyeol jumps over the no-cross barrier no matter how hard the policemen are restraining him. He has to see what needs to be seen. Somewhere on his right, a detective is interrogating an old woman whom he identifies as Mrs. Yoon who owns the nextdoor mansion.

“Luhan has always been a spoiled kid. This is totally expected of him. He’s a drunkard, a drug addict. He hangs out with hooligans and wastes himself in car races all the time. Sometimes I even hear rumours that he locks his own twin brother inside while continuously abusing and the poor boy. Tsk...Kids these days...” The woman grunted, scrunching her nose at reminiscence of the orange-haired boy with a coy smile and a devilish heart who wears only dark clothes and drives extravagant sportscar. Chanyeol squints. What is going on!

“Please! Let me in!” He struggles against two burly-set guy, obviously outnumbered - his feeble guitarist arms can only fight so much.  

“Mister, this is a crime scene. Please leave.”

“But...Shixun...is he alright? Where is he?” He urges desperately, his voice is raspy and his throat hurts. The winter night sends shivers down his spine, an ominous sign of something bad, something scary. Chanyeol doesn’t like being insecure, but the uncertainty of the situation is making him nervous.

“The pale kid? He’s in the hospital right now. Who are you to him?”

“I’m his...I’m his...”

Who are you to him, Park Chanyeol? Who are you, really? Who are you other than just a friend, just a punch bag, just a shoulder to cry on?

“I’m his boyfriend. Now tell me what happened!”

“Mr. Wu found his unconscious sons and two dead bodies. We are investigating. Would you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

Chanyeol nods. The sooner he’s done with this, the sooner he gets to run to the hospital.

Sehun...please be okay.

///

“J-Jongin...” Junmyun’sface lit up at the sight of the intern. But Jongin doesn’t smile. He looks dejected. Junmyun holds his breath. He’s been sitting on the floor, crying for the past three hours. His eyes are swelling red, and Yifan isn’t even here to say his excuses - he ran off to his company, saying something about an emergency meeting. Yifan ran away even before Junmyun can even hit him in the head, asking him what the have you done to my child.

“I go by Dr. Kim now.” Jongin looks at him like he’s a stranger, cold eyes void of familiarity. “ I’m here to inform that we have went through the critical phase. W-Wu Shixun will need a lot of time to recover, but he will be fine for now.”

“Thank you, Jong...I mean Dr.Kim.”

“Meanwhile, there are some police officers who would like a word from you. I believe that Wu Shi Han should be waking up now, and they would like to see him to. Have a good day, Mr.Oh.”

Junmyun is speechless. What has become of this boy, who smiles even when he falls off his bicycle and bleeding crimson blood? What has become to the bubbly, giddy Jongin that never fails to put a smile on his son’s face? Where has that boy gone?

It is not until Junmyun’s silhouette fades behind the elevator door that Jongin slumps down on the floor, head in his arms, crying his eyes out.

///Luhan’s POV

Is this heaven?

Am I dead?

These white walls...they look like...

Heaven.

I squints at the ceiling. It’s white, too, but that off-white color makes me dizzy. There are tubes sticking out of my skin. It’s irritating, so I yank them out at once, causing the blood to trickle down my arms. Right when the crimson liquid hits the white sheets, they evaporate into thin air, leaving behind only the acrid smell of metal behind. I stand up groggily, fall twice on my back and push myself back up while trying not to look at the spotlessly white sheets and squeaky white floor. If this is heaven, where are the angels?

Pushing the door open, I see them. Wingless, graceless, running through the hall with clipboards in their hands and stethoscopes hanging loosely on their necks. This is not heaven. This is a ing hospital, with sick people and heartless bastards acting like they know what they’re doing. I gasp as one of them walks right through me - as if I’m not alive.

Oh, that’s right, because I’m dead.

So I start to run as far as my legs would take me. I run and run and run but the hallway elongates, getting farther and farther as I try to reach the end. My legs are tired, I want to stop, but the white color of the place chokes me and blinds me. There is no light at the end.

The I stop, dead in my tracks, in front of one of the OR. There is a strange force pulling me in. I can almost taste the metallic blood on the tip of my tongue. Feeling nauseous, I almost back out. But an ethereal voice pulls me closer.

I push the door open - no one even stops me. I see the surgeons in the blue suit as they part open the huge abdomen of a young man. I want intently, trying to match the man’s facial features with the people I have seen, the people I have met. He looks oddly familiar in my eyes, his dark hair, his soft cheeks and his delicate fingers.

I hear crying. It’s-it’s a baby!

A baby boy, kicking and yanking at the tubes as the nurse cleans him up under the warm light. She wraps him in a soft pink cloth and my heart softens. There is something, if anything, about the boy that makes my eyes teary. I walk closer to them to see his face, my body phasing right through the trolley full of bloody scalpels. .

“Junmyun, take a look at this angel,” the doctor says as he hands the man his chubby, healthy son. It’s not just any doctor...it’s Uncle Yixing.  

What is he doing here? And how does he looks 20 years younger? I don’t understand. Am I dreaming? Am I realyl in Heaven, or in Hell, or stuck somewhere in between?

Junmyun...Junmyun...Junmyun... so that must be...

I gasp as realization sinks in.

“He’s...he’s...beautiful.” The man lying on the operation table says, his voice raspy, out of breath. He’s everything I could have imagined Suho hyung - I mean Om...no, I will only call him my Suho hyung - everything I could have imagined him to look like when he was young. He’s beautiful. He had been beautiful.

“He has your nose. And lips, too,” Uncle Yixing beams before returning to Suho’s still open abdomen. The sight of blood almost makes me gag.

“My Xiao Han. Luhan. Deer of dawn. My little angel,” Suho hyung is crying. My tears fall as well, pooling into a puddle on the floor before turning into ash. I can’t stop the tears. They have a mind of their own. Suho is in front of me, hugging the little me, just like in my childhood dreams when I was little, sleeping in the closet, crying in the dark.. He’s kissing the younger me, just like in my dreams.  He’s caressing my face and touching my nose and holding me for dear life - just like in my dreams. Just like how I imagined my life would have been with a mother by my side. Doesn’t he want me? Why did he leave me?

“He’s a fighter, this little guy.” One of the nurses says, her voice full of pride. “We almost lost them, but this little , he holds on. There is just so much he has to see in this world, isn’t there? He’ll grow up to be an heir, just so you see!”

I frown. I am an heir and I have claimed my succession to the Wu Enterprise. And I hate every single minute of this life.

But the pain in Suho hyung’s face catches my eye. He looks torn, his lips trembling.

“Wh-where’s...where’s Shixun? Where is he?” His voice is shaking, his eyes petrified. Mine too, as I look at the bloody mess on the operating table while the doctors pull out a skinny child, almost half as big as the infant version of me, and immediately puts him on a separate table. They’re not letting Suho look, but I can see it all. I follow them suit, but the sight kills me. The child doesn’t cry. Not like I did. He looks so small, so fragile, as if he’d splinter at a touch.

“The baby’s not breathing,” someone says while pumping the oxygen into the baby’s nostrils. I slump down into a crying mess on the floor, the surge of emotions taking over me.

“His twin is too strong. That’s why he doesn’t get enough nutrition. His lungs are weak, too, he needs surgery!” They whisper among themselves, afraid of letting Suho hear. But I can hear everything. I hear them well. They are like thunder, striking me awake. This is no dream. This is no heaven. This is hell, it must be, because I couldn’t have been more miserable.

Before long, they take the child away, leaving me, with my chest tightening, my tears soaking my hospital gown wet. All I hear is Suho’s sobbing in my ears.

Then everything goes black.

“Let me go! Let me go see my babies!”  

I wake to the shrill screaming of none other than Suho hyung. He’s in his hospital gown, throwing everything onto the floor, his eyes swollen with fresh tears trickling down his beautiful face. No one can see me, but I see the desperate look in their eyes as they try to detaining the agitated man.

“Please, mister! You’re having postpartum depression. We can’t let you see your babies because you might harm them. Please stay where you are or we have to sedate you!” They threaten. But Suho hyung is not afraid.

“ you all! Let me go!” He yells on the top of his lungs and darts out of the room like lightning. I rushes after him, my feet feeling light under my weight. I am running out of breath, but he is so fast and I find it hard to keep up. Faces of strangers come and go, but amid the same off-white shirts, I can still discern the small back of my guardian angel.

He stops at a window overlooking a huge room, hands on the cold glass. I stand beside him, touching his shoulder, but my hands phase right through. Then I look into the direction of his eyes, catching a glimpse of twin boys sleeping inside a glass chamber. One is twice the size of the other. One is full of life, one is barely clinging onto it.

“Luhan ah...Shixun ah...Hang in there. Omma will come and get you,” Suho croaks, his tears beginning to fall.

Lies. All lies. You only came back for Shixun, you liar.

“Hey! What are you doing!” Suho screams. A nurse is wrapping the twins in linen and taking them out of the room. I can taste the blood on the tip of my tongue again. I can smell danger.

“Mr. Kim, please go back to your room right now. You are not in your right state of mind.”

“They are mine. You can’t take them away from me. Give them back.” Suho clenches his fist. If looks had been able to kill, those nurses would have all fallen dead by now.

“What are you doing, Mr.Kim! These are not your babies. These are Madame Wu’s grandchildren.” They say. They come and drags Suho hyung away. I reach for his hands, but I can never touch him. I scream at them to let him go, but they can never hear me.

The old woman smiles as she touches the twin boys’ cheeks.

Staring with my eyes wide open, I dreads to realize that it’s my grandmother.

My eyes snap open. All I hear is Sehun’s cries pounding in my ears.

a/n: so i may or may have lied about the rainbow and fluff and unicorn shiz. sorrynotsorry. I FUQING CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS OKEI DAMN FEELS

also, explanation of the medical terms i used in this chapter for those interested:

aneurysm: basically a centralized, blood-filled bulge in the brain, caused by major injuries.

BP: abbreviation for bluud pressure