Light. So much light.

Am I in heaven?

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“It’s my right as the Owner!”

“Well I’m the Keeper so shut up!”

Jaejoong blacks out.

-{}-

Bright. That’s the first thing that comes into Jaejoong’s mind when he regains consciousness. It’s so bright it hurts; even with his eyes closed, Jaejoong can’t escape the sunlight, what with it painting the back of his eyelids and pale pink and surrounding him like an overheated cocoon. He squeezes his eyes shut, squirming on the cloud-like softness he’s lying in as he tries to find a position where he isn’t being blinded.

“Hyung?”  A hand lightly brushes his forehead, hot and cold at the same time, and Jaejoong’s eyes snap open as he jerks up.

Changmin’s concerned eyes meet his, and gentle but firm hands push him back down onto what Jaejoong realises is a bed in all its midnight-blue blanketed glory. “Hyung, are you okay? Can you recognise me? Is your neck hurting?” The questions pour out of Changmin’s mouth like water from a burst dam, sometimes a mere trickle, sometimes a flood, but always there. Jaejoong tries to answer them all, but everything he opens his mouth to speak nothing comes out, as if the words are congealed blood that can’t make it past his throat.

Changmin chuckles, a forced sound that fraught with tension. “Hyung, do you know where you are?”

Home? Jaejoong mouths. The room is unfamiliar, the walls painted a soft blue that seems to refract light, casting white shadows on the minimalistic furniture. The simple clock on the wall reads 14:30…Jaejoong realises with a jolt that he’s slept all the way to the next day, at the very least. Who knows how many days he’s been stuck in Lala land.  The French windows are open, a gentle breeze wafting through and making the translucent silk curtains shudder delicately. Jaejoong’s never seen this room before, but then again, it’s not like he ever bothered exploring his whole house. It’s a fifty-room mansion; surely no one could expect even the most curious of kids to go to all the rooms.

“Try 20 kilometres from there.” A voice from behind Changmin says. Changmin tenses visibly, and Jaejoong, though not sure why he’s reacting like that, forces himself up again and pats Changmin’s arm in a soothing gesture. Suddenly, all the where have you beens and I was so worrieds seem so trivial now, and he throws himself into Changmin’s arms in a careless hug, ignoring the vague figure of someone placing something by the bedside table. When he finally leans back, the warm ceramic of a spoon touches his lips, and he opens his mouth without thinking to accept a spoonful of what was probably the best porridge he’d ever tasted in his life apart from his own, eyes on Changmin the whole time. He coughs as the thin but filling gruel burns its way down his throat like alcohol.

“Swallow,” an all-too familiar voice says. “I know it hurts, but you have to eat.”

And Jaejoong can’t help but obey, eyes staring into beautiful red-brown eyes as he does so.

At the back of his mind, he wonders briefly why he isn’t surprised.

-{}-

“Hotel?” Jaejoong mouths when he’s done.

Yunho shakes his head. “You’re at my house.”

Jaejoong’s eyes widen, the question why obvious in his soft brown irises.

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

What happened…the words seem to trigger a switch inside Jaejoong, and the memories held back by the pleasant haze of drowsiness come flooding into his brain. The business man…crimson, bloodthirsty eyes on the face of an angel…fangs in his neck…and the pain, god, the pain…

Jaejoong shakes his head, trying his best to keep the soundless scream from bubbling to his lips. He can’t say anything…not while Changmin’s there. Innocent, innocent Changmin…he can’t know any of it.

Yunho sighs, as if he knows Jaejoong’s lying, but he doesn’t say anything about it, merely lifting up another spoonful of porridge that Jaejoong accepts without complaint. “You’ll be living in my house for the time being,” he says, holding up a hand to stop Jaejoong from saying anything. “Don’t argue with me. It’s not a problem. You’ve already been here for almost two weeks; one or two more won’t kill you. And if you’re wondering why you’re here of all places, I took you in when I found you bleeding at my doorstep.”

At…at his doorstep?

Than who was carrying Jaejoong that night?

“Your parents have already agreed and your stuff’s downstairs. You’re too weak to go very far and this isn’t exactly the best neighbourhood to be in, so I suggest you stay either in the garden or the house. I’ve told the principal you were sick, so don’t worry about that. When I’m not at home, Changmin will take care of you.”

Jaejoong finds the strength from somewhere to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m staying here as well, hyung,” Changmin explains, his voice resigned, as if he doesn’t want to but doesn’t have a choice. “I can study at home, so don’t tell me it’s bad to skip school.”

Even though it’s hard to move his muscles, Jaejoong manages to smile.

Yunho hands the porridge to Changmin. “Make sure he finishes it all.” Changmin scowls, but nods and takes it, hand swirling the spoon around the translucent mixture. When Yunho turns to face Jaejoong, his eyes are soft. “You won’t be able to make any sound for some time, so it you need anything, just point or write,” he says. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Jaejoong doesn’t say anything, only bowing as deeply as he can manage in the awkward position he’s in. What’s an Owner? What’s a Keeper? Who are you, really? The questions flash through his mind, but he keeps them to himself, and the only message he allows himself to give is thank you.

Yunho pats his head gently, and Jaejoong resists the urge to arch into the touches like an eager puppy like he wants to. “Anytime,” he says, whispering a few words into Jaejoong’s hair that Jaejoong doesn’t hear, but Changmin certainly does.

For you, a thousand times over.                                             

“Keep your hands off him,” Changmin murmurs darkly, so quietly that only Yunho can hear. “You may have raised his family, but don’t forget who owns them.”

The only response is an almost non-existent chuckle and the door shutting.

Sorry for not updating for so long...forgive me? *puppy eyes*

And in case anyone's wondering, yes, the thousand times over thing is from the Kite Runner :)