Sunggyu hears terrible screaming the second he pops open the door to his cabin. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, because the screaming is attached to a perfectly healthy, if a little red in the face, Jiyeon. And with her are the still breathing, still okay, Dongwoo and Sungyeol.

“Thank god,” Dongwoo huffs out the second he sees Sunggyu, and tackles him into the kind of hug that could give Yunho a run for his money. Dongwoo clutches him close and says, “I was scared you were out there by yourself. I wanted to go look for you the second that started happening, but some jerk wouldn’t let me.”

Sunggyu hears Sungyeol scoff loudly, then say, “Unlike some fools who shall remain unnamed, I actually read the information packet that everyone received along with their identification badges. It outlined a bunch of thing, including I might add, what to do if there’s a ship wide disaster, or hostile threat. I knew Dongwoo going out there could put others in danger, so I wouldn’t let him.”

Jiyeon is leaning almost frantically towards him in Sungyeol’s arms, so he scoopers her up and kisses her sloppily, just the way she likes it. Then remembering Wooyhun, he says, “That’s exactly what Woohyun said to me. It was the right move to make, Sungyeol. Thanks for looking out for this dummy.”

At the mention of his name Woohyun takes a confident step into the cabin and reveals himself to all the occupants.

“Is that you?” Dongwoo asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

Woohyun doesn’t look the least bit nervous, shoulders squared and chin high. But for some reason, Sunggyu can read him better than what he projects. Sunggyu can pick up the tiniest of ticks, and how Woohyun’s eyes are moving just a little too quickly from face to face.

Something twits in Sunyyu and he cuts through Dongwoo’s line of sight to block Woohyun from him. He says, making his tone clear and authoritative, “Woohyun saved my during the … attack, or whatever it was. He recognized the alarm fast enough to keep me safe. I might not have been without him. I probably wouldn’t have.”

Softly Sunggyu hears Woohyun say behind him, “Sunggyu.”

“Interesting,” Sungyeol remarks. “Sunggyu, where did you meet the captain’s son?”

Woohyun pops around Sunggyu to ask, “We haven’t met, right?”

“Jiyeon,” Sunggyu says, pulling her hand away as she tries to rip some of his hair out happily. “Sungyeol, stop wondering where I make my friends and start getting a handle on your terror of a sister. She’s trying to make me bald before my time.”

Sungyeol purses his lips. “Male pattern baldness is a genetic matter, and Yunho seems to have all his hair. Now stop trying to implicate my toddler sister in anything.”

Sungyeol and Sunggyu share a long smile, and Sunggyu is so relieved.

“I’m Woohyun,” Sunggyu hears from behind him. Woohyun bows deeply to both Dongwoo and Sungyeol. “And I just happened to be in the right place at the right time to run into Sunggyu. We kept each other safe.”

Sungyeol’s got an interesting look on his face, and Sunggyu can’t quite make out what it means, but that seems to be all that Dongwoo needs to easily accept Woohyun into their fold.

Sunggyu points out, “Dongwoo, Woohyun is also the reason you’ve had all that candy to stuff in your face. You might want to take a moment to thank him.”

Woohyun jerks back a little as suddenly Dongwoo is at his side, plying him with questions about the origins of the candy.

They’re distracting enough that Sunggyu doesn’t even realize Sungyeol is near him until Jiyeon is being pulled from his arms. She fights to get back to pulling Sunggyu’s hair, and Sungyeol takes the opportunity to mumble to him, “So your mysterious gift giver is the captain’s son. How interesting. How very interesting indeed.”

“Sungyeol,” Sunggyu growls lowly.

“I’m just saying,” Sungyeol laughs out, letting Jiyeon fling herself back at Sunggyu.

“Then just don’t say.” Sunggyu sighs. He still has few words for the time he’s just spent with Woohyun. He’s badly misjudged Woohyun, and that in itself is enough to make him feel shame. But there are other feelings as well, mostly revolving around the way Woohyun cared for him, tells him how attractive he is, and is constantly reaching to touch him.

Woohyun is kind of greasy.

Part of Sunggyu doesn’t mind it.

“Okay,” Sungyeol says easily enough, but it’s a deceptive reply. This isn’t the last Sunggyu’s heard about this from Sunyeol. He’ll bet anything on this.

A warm and firm pressure settles at the small of Sunggyu’s back and he almost jumps as Woohyun says into his ear, “You’re safe with your friends now. I’m going to head back to my room now. Can I see you later?”

Sunggyu doesn’t know if the others have heard anything Woohyun’s said, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s too fully distracted by Woohyun’s words, and trying to discern the meaning behind them. Because they almost, just almost, sound to Sunggyu like they can be meant in some romantic context. Maybe Woohyun is …

No.

Sunggyu shakes the thoughts away right away. Woohyun is a flirt, this is why he’s said flirtatious things to Sunggyu. But the truth of the real world is that boys like Woohyun do not like boys like Sunggyu. They like the friendly, personable ones like Dongwoo, or the tall, attractive type like Sungyeol. They even like the strong, athletic boys like Hoya, or the sweet, adorable ones that Sungjong will be in a couple of years. They don’t like cantankerous boys like Sunggyu, who speak their mind and are honest to a fault and find it hard to both make and keep friends.

The world is cruel in this way, because Sunggyu likes the way he is, and he won’t change, not even for a boy like Woohyun.

“I ….” Sunggyu breaks his words off quickly, instead offering Woohyun just a strong nod.

Woohyun winks at him and turns on heel, saying, “At least you know that I know where your cabin is. And now you know where mine is too.”

“Bye, Woohyun!” Dongwoo shouts loudly. “If you find more candy, you know I’m going to be way more appreciative of it than Sunggyu!”

Sungyeol says quietly, “But not quite in the way Woohyun would likely prefer. At least not from you.”

Dongwoo’s head in confusion, and Sunggyu only doesn’t hit Sungyeol because Jiyeon is still in his arms, probably too worked up from the attack and alarms to go to bed anytime soon.

Sunggyu sways with her a little, trying to prompt some sleepiness into her. She’ll be much easier to handle as sleeping, dead weight.

“So that was Woohyun,” Sungyeol remarks. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d actually ever see him.”

“Huh?” Sunggyu turns to Sungyeol with rising interest. “You recognized Woohyun before I introduced him. How?”

Almost dismissively, Sungyeol says, “I’ve heard some of the soldiers talk about him. They say he’s a hermit, frankly. He hardly ever leaves his cabin, and when he does, he doesn’t talk to anyone. Some of them think he’s a mastermind working something important out for his father, and others think he’s the complete opposite. The point is, he doesn’t have any friends on this ship, or seem to even like anyone. It’s very interesting that he’s been sending you gifts, Sunggyu. You can’t deny that it’s interesting.”

Begrudgingly, with Jiyeon quieting in his arms, he tells Dongwoo and Sungyeol about his first meeting with Woohyun.

“So he just felt guilty?” Dongwoo guesses. “For being an ?”

Sunggyu makes to answer Dongwoo, though with an ambiguous one at best, when the door that Woohyun closed on his way out, bursts open. And in the doorway is a sweating, panting Myungsoo. His eyes are frantic as they search the occupancy of the room, and then he’s in it a half second later, lunging for Sungyeol.

Sunggyu barely manages to jump back and out of the way, Jiyeon protesting at being startled so suddenly, before Myungsoo is wrapped around Sungyeol like a squid. His shoulders shake, his breathing is hitched, and Sunggyu deduces that Myungsoo may very likely be crying.

“What should we do?” Dongwoo asks Sunggyu is a very quiet voice.

“Here.” Sunggyu passes Jiyeon over to Dongwoo.

By the time he crosses the small space to where the other two are standing, Sungyeol now patting Myungsoo’s back comfortingly. He can hear Myungsoo saying, “One of the missiles hit the cabins on the lower starboard side of the ship. Your cabin was obliterated, along with dozens of others. I thought you were dead. I was stuck at my station and I thought for sure you were dead.”

Sunggyu can’t breathe. He looks sharply to Dongwoo. “If Sungyeol hadn’t come to visit you …”

Dongwoo’s ashen. “Then he’d be dead.”

And Jiyeon as well.

“I’m okay,” Sungyeol says, loud enough for Sunggyu to hear without having to strain. “I came to see Dongwoo just before the attack. I’m really okay.”

Myungsoo pulls back a little, letting his hands frame Sungyeol’s face and truly look him over. “You weren’t anywhere near your cabin at the time?”

Sungyeol shakes his head. “I was with Dongwoo in the rec room on deck D before the attack, and here during it. I was never anywhere near my cabin. Not since early this morning.”

Without warning, movement jerky in its suddenness, Myungsoo spins, demanding, “Where’s Jiyeon?”

“Myungsoo.” Sungyeol catches him in a back hug, though this one is much shorter than the one shared previously. “She’s fine. Sunggyu and Dongwoo have her right now.”

Sunggyu points a finger towards the toddler fussing in Dongwoo’s arms and arches an eyebrow. “Right there.”

“Oh,” Myungsoo breathes out, and looks like he wants to steal Jiyeon from Dongwoo’s arms and hug her just as tightly as he’s hugged Sungyeol. Maybe it really is only Sungyeol’s grip on him that’s stopping him.

“Myungsoo,” Sunggyu says loudly, jarring the two of them apart. “Is that what this really was? An attack?”

Myungsoo finally reaches a shaking hand out to cup Jiyeon’s chin, if only to assure himself that she is real and there.

“Myungsoo!” Sunggru shouts to try and get him to focus.

Myungsoo looks so haunted in the face when he finally turns his attention to Sunggyu, that Sunggyu almost regrets his raised voice. It occurs to Sunggyu that more than civilians are likely dead. Myungsoo’s probably had to watch friends, maybe even people he calls brothers, die in the line of duty. Who knows how many soldiers are dead.

Sunggyu sways suddenly, the room spinning, and Dongwoo has to dive to keep him on his feet, all but ing Jiyeon into Myungsoo’s grip.

“Sunggyu?” Dongwoo demands, helping him to a bunk. Sunggyu’s head is swimming. He’s dizzy and disoriented and gasping for air. “Sunggyu! What’s wrong?”

“Yunho,” Sunggyu wheezes out, gasping for air that is suddenly so unobtainable. “Mysungsoo. Is my brother … Yunho …”

If anything has happened to Yunho …

Something loud is ringing in Sunggyu’s ears and he can’t hear Dongwoo anymore over the sound. He can’t hear what Sungyeol is saying to Myungsoo, or Jiyeon crying. He can’t hear anything over the roar in his ears.

Sunggyu closes his eyes and tries not to pass out, because passing out is incredibly embarrassing.

“Sunggyu!”

He actually hears his name being called, and he certainly feels the slap that follows.

He opens his eyes to Sungyeol inches away, determination etched on his features.

“Did you … just hit me?” he gasps his words out, chest burning.

“Myungsoo has gone to check on your brother,” Sungyeol rushes out. “He works in the radar department, right? Myungsoo is going to go check. But you have to calm down. Don’t make me slap you again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sunggyu manages, and although he doesn’t feel any better, because he still doesn’t know if Yunho’s okay, he does manage to hold it together.

What other option is there?

Myungsoo’s only been gone for a few minutes, and Sunggyu’s only just begun to even out his breathing when the intercom crackles. Sunggyu’s only heard it used once before, and the captain’s voice that comes from it is a little startling.

“Shh,” Dongwoo tells Jiyeon gently as she babbles on the bed she’s crawling across. He dangles the same plastic ring of fake keys that is, to the best of Sunggyu’s knowledge, the only toy of Jiyeon’s that managed to survive the fall of South Korea. And if Myungsoo’s to be believed about the missile, and he is, all of Jiyeon’s other things are gone as well. Sunggyu doesn’t want to think about what they’re going to do in a few hours when she needs a diaper change.

The message from the captain is short and succinct. In thirty seconds he manages to tell everyone that yes, they have been attacked, and yes, they have been victorious in their engagement. No, people are not to panic, and yes, they should stay in their cabins for the time being and wait for further instructions. Yes, medical teams are being dispatched to those in need, and no, they are no longer in danger.

The last part reads like a complete lie. If Sunggyu’s learned anything over the past week, it’s that they’re always in danger. This is just a new danger. An unexpected danger.

“Dongwoo,” Sunggyu says, fingers gripping the blanket on the bed he’s seated on. “If Yunho is--”

“Are you serious?” Dongwoo barks out, interrupting Sunggyu. He looks angry, and it’s enough of a surprise that Sunggyu loses himself for a minute and falls silent.

Sungyeol cautions, “Dongwoo, maybe you should--”

“No,” Dongwoo snaps. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to Sunggyu act like his brother is dead.”

“You could be a little nicer with your optimism,” Sungyeol says.

For the first time, Sunggyu notices the angry red mark at Sungyeol’s temple. He reaches a shaking finger out to point and questions, “Are you hurt?”

“I fell,” Sungyeol brushes off. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about Sungjong and Hoya.”

Sunggyu frowns. “You’re right. I hope they’re okay. We’ll go check on them as soon as the captain says we can.” He’s still obsessively thinking about whether Yunho is okay or not, but it’s not consuming him so much. He can focus now. He can think. And breathe.

Sungyeol’s face darkens. “No. Sunggyu. Don’t you … remember where their bunks are?”

Sunggyu still feels a little oxygen deprived from his near panic attack, but a second later he’s able to trace his way through the ship with his mind. He can picture the route to take to get to where Hoya and Sungjong sleep, and it’s …

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Dongwoo demands, looking between them. “What? You guys!”

Sunggyu hastily says, “Sungjong and Hoya’s bunks, and Sungyeol’s cabin are in almost exactly the same spot, only separated by a few decks. If Sungyeol’s cabin was destroyed …” He and Hoya may have left the dinner service at the same time, but Hoya had more than enough time to make it back for the attack. There’s a strong possibility now that Hoya and Sungjong are …

Sunggyu can tell Dongwoo wants to lunge for the door. The lot of them have only been together, forging friendships for a short while, but Sunggyu remembers the way Hoya and Dongwoo sat and talked about music for hours, and how Dongwoo took Sungjong under his wing to teach him the best way to swindle people at card games.

Sungyeol promises Dongwoo, “The second we get the all clear from the captain, we’ll go and check.”

Dongwoo argues back immediately, “You want to wait when they could be dead? Or worse? What if they need medical attention!”

Sungyeol challenges back, “Did you forget to mention you have medical training?”

“Well, no. But--”

“Then but nothing,” Sungyeol says, sounding tired now. “You can’t go now for the same reason you couldn’t go looking for Sunggyu earlier. Whatever’s just happened is severe enough for the captain to confine us where we are with no additional information. He’s clearly trying to regain control of a situation that is very much chaotic. So don’t go getting anything in mind that might make things worse for anyone else on this ship.”

Properly scolded, Dongwoo flops down on the bed next to Sunggyu, pressing against him slightly. He doesn’t respond to Sungyeol, and simply looks beaten down.

When Myungsoo returns, still looking worse for wear, he wastes no time telling them all, “I couldn’t even get close to the bridge. It’s completely locked down.”

“Is that … normal in these situations?” Sungyeol asks.

It’s a small comfort that Myungsoo nods. “In any disaster, attack or accident of severe enough measurement, the captain’s first response is to lock down the bridge and protect the high priority personnel there. That said, I know that the bridge is completely intact, and no medical team has been dispatched to any injured parties there. I think that means if your brother was on the bridge, Sunggyu, he’s safe. We’ll know more in the coming hours, when there’s an official head check. . Sunggyu, I can’t say for certain, but I’m confident enough to tell you that your brother is okay.”

“Okay,” Sunggyu says slowly, and nearly collapses over Dongwoo on the bed. He rests against him comfortably, breathing evenly in and out. There’s no way Myungsoo can be a hundred percent certain that Yunho is okay, but what he’s said is enough to get Sunggyu through the night.

“Sungyeol,” he hears Myungsoo say, “I have to get back to my station very soon. There will be plenty of things headed in my direction to keep me working through the night. Would you … I mean … my cabin is empty right now …”

“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol says softly. “I don’t think--”

Myungsoo clears his throat. “You and Jiyeon might be a little cramped in here with Dongwoo and Sunggyu. I’m not currently sharing my room with anyone right now, well, not since we left South Korea--my bunkmates all died there. You and Jiyeon could rest there in peace if you wanted. Of course, I’ll completely understand if you’d rather stay with your friends. You’re obviously traumatized, and whatever you decide I’ll be fine with.”

There’s real uncertainty on Sungyeol’s face, and he must be internally fighting between the two choices.

Sunggyu is about to urge Sungyeol to go when Dongwoo speaks up. His chest rumbles against Sunggyu’s back as he says, “Just go already. Sunggyu and I are fine here, and you look dead on your feet. Plus, I don’t want to be within a hundred feet of Jiyeon the next time she spits up or has a diaper explosion.”

Sungyeol sends him a mock glare and scoops up Jiyeon, saying, “I’m going to be sure to put you on babysitting duty the first time I suspect she’s going to have diarrhea.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dongwoo shoos him. “Get going.”

As Myungsoo leads Sungyeol out of the cabin, he says, “I have quite a few extra pieces of clothing you can use as a diaper for the time being. We’ll burn it all afterwards.” The door shutting cuts off the rest of their conversation.

In the quiet of the cabin, Dongwoo says, “Sunggyu, are you really okay now?”

With a groan Sunggyu pulls his legs up further on the bed, pushing back against Dongwoo. A week ago he may have felt some oddness to laying so close with another male, especially one who isn’t family, but things are much different now. Comfort through proximity and friends who now comprise the category of family, is the norm. There’s very little left in Sunggyu that cares about things that were awkward before.

“I’m … okay.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

Sunggyu tucks a hand up to his chest and admits, “I’ll be better when I see Yunho.”

Dongwoo says, “Yeah. Me too.”

Sunggyu supposes, even though there’s no blood tying Dongwoo and Yunho together, they’re kind of like family now too. Sunggyu knows for a fact that Yunho’s been pulling strings to keep Dongwoo close and with Sunggyu. And when they talk to each other their interactions are easy and friendly. They trust each other, and this is something invaluable.

“Sunggyu?”

“Yes?”

He feels Dongwoo hold to the material on his shirt, and their feet bump together.

“Someone attacked us, right? Like, they hit us with missiles. Why? Why would anyone do that? There’s some kind of plague … or infection destroying whole countries, and people are barely getting out alive. Why would the people who escaped attack each other? We need to work together. We have to, if we want to survive.”

The ship gives a rumble of some sort, the engines cutting out. They’re floating dead in the water and Sunggyu holds his breath. Maybe the engines are damaged. What will they do if the engines are damaged?

“Sunggyu?”

Even against the harsh light in the room, Sunggyu closes his eyes. He says, “Go to sleep, Dongwoo.” Because there’s nothing else they can do. “We’re okay for now.”

Sunggyu feels the moment that Dongwoo falls asleep, almost twenty minutes later. Dongwoo sags against him and it’s almost enough to push Sunggyu into sleep as well. But the minutes tick by, turning to hours, and Sunggyu stares at the cabin door.

He doesn’t know when it happens, doesn’t even see it coming, but eventually, he goes out like a light.

He jerks awake sometime later, as if he’s remembered that he should be waiting up for word on Yunho. Dongwoo’s arm has come up and around him sometime during the night, and they’re spooned together tightly.

“Gyu.”

Air seizes in Sunggyu’s lungs and throat and he sees Yunho standing in the middle of the cabin. He looks fine, aside from the coloring of his face, the way his shoulders droop, and the haunting look in his eyes. Sunggyu pushes past those things which can be fixed, to how Yunho isn’t bleeding anywhere, has all his limbs, and is standing without assistance. Yunho is breathing and he’s the most beautiful thing Sunggyu has ever seen.

Dongwoo sleeps like the dead. This is something Sunggyu’s learned over the week he’s shared a room with the other teen. So Sunggyu isn’t worried about waking Dongwoo when he shoves him closer to the wall, pulling himself free.

“Yunho?” Sunggyu stumbles to his feet, making his way to stand in front of Yunho as quickly as he can.

It’s starting to worry him how Yunho is just standing still, watching him, face slack.

“Yunho, what’s wrong?”

Yunho reaches a hand up, and Sunggyu feels cold fingers on his forehead. They rest there for just a second, before they trail down his face, over his cheekbones, down and around his chin, and to the pulse at his neck.

“You’re kind of scaring me now,” Sunggyu laughs out, but he means every word. Yunho hasn’t said a thing since Sunggyu woke, and Sunggyu is more than uncertain about what’s about to transpire between them.

Then Yunho starts to cry.

The tears simply leak out and Sunggyu grips him in a tight hug. Sunggyu can’t remember the last time he saw Yunho cry. Maybe when they were kids.

“What’s wrong?” Sunggyu asks into Yunoh’s ear. He holds Yunho as tightly as he can, straining up onto his toes to get some kind of leverage over his brother. “Tell me, Yunho.”

Miraculously, as if coming out of a daze, Sunggyu feels Yunho start to return the hug. Yunho’s hands come up to Sunggyu’s back and press down flat, and his chin falls to Sunggyu’s shoulder.

It’s faint, but Sunggyu manages to hear Yunho say, “I almost killed you.”

Sunggyu tries to jerk back, but now Yunho’s got too tight a grip on him. He can barely move at all. He can only question, “That’s silly, Yunho. You would never hurt me.” It’s the only thing he’s sure about in this world anymore.

“I almost killed you. Oh, god, Gyu. I almost killed you. My baby brother.”

Yunho sags against him so suddenly that they both almost go down on the ground. It takes some effort, completely on Sunggyu’s part, to get Yunho over to the other bunk. Sunggyu lowers him as carefully as he can, guides Yunho’s head to the pillow, and then pulls off his shoes.

“Didn’t I just tell you things like that are silly to say? Don’t make me tell you that you sound stupid. I don’t doubt what you’re capable of, Yunho, but hurting me isn’t one of them.”

Sunggyu gives a cry of surprise when Yunho tugs him down, and Sunggyu ends up wedged between the wall and his brother. The position is nothing new, because when he and Yunho share the bunk, Sunggyu always gets stuck next to the wall. But there’s something very different in the way Yunho crowds up against him, his arms squeezed around Sunggyu.

After minutes of just letting them be, Sunggyu requests, “Tell me what happened.”

Yunho doesn’t answer, but his tears have dried.

So instead, Sunggyu tries, “We were attacked, right? By who? Yunho, can you tell me who attacked us?”

Yunho says, “The Chinese.” It feels like a wealth of progress.

But the answer makes Sunggyu frown. “The Chinese? Why would the Chinese attack us?”

Yunho forces out, “Because we’re organized enough to have weapons and food. Or maybe women and children. Take your pick. Any and all are valid reasons.”

“But there are so many ships with us,” Sunggyu points out. They’re sort of an armada now. Over the past few days they’ve met up with three more South Korean military ships, and a Taiwanese. They’re traveling in a pack big enough to be a serious threat.

“And you think the Chinese military isn’t three times what we have? In this area alone?” Yunho catches himself and stops, bringing a hand up to the side of Sunggyu’s face. “China went black almost right away. Faster than America, faster than India, and faster than any European country. It went black first, and because of its size and its population the infection was able to spread insanely fast. The Chinese have lost everything but their military, and I think they’re going around trying to take whatever they can. They weren’t scared of our size or how many ships we had.”

Sunggyu hears the tense right away. “Had?”

“We lost two ships,” Yunho says tonelessly.

Suddenly Sunggyu is the one gripping Yunho. “How many … people?”

Yunho’s fingers slide up into Sunggyu’s hair. “We lost a destroyer. We don’t have a lot of those, Gyu. We lost one of the very few ships keeping us all safe, and all two hundred men on board. There was an attachment of marines on that ship, too. They were invaluable.”

“And the other?”

Yunho looks him so steadily in the eyes that Sunggyu shivers. “A ship in the same position as us. Some military personnel, but a lot more civilians. Three hundred innocent people. Drowned or blown up.”

Sunggyu demands, “And you think that’s your fault or something?” Yunho makes to respond, but Sunggyu continues, “You are not responsible for a country of decent people turning into s in the wake of world ending events. I get the feeling there are very few people left who can afford to be good anymore.” He’s not defending the Chinese. He’s not coming close to it. But he understands. He gets it.

Ignoring Dongwoo’s sleeping presence, Yunho snaps out in a loud voice, “It’s my fault they almost killed you! This ship could have easily been downed. Don’t you get that? I know you felt those missiles slamming into us. There are people on this ship who died, and you could have been one of them. All because I didn’t catch them until the last minute!”

“Yunho.”

Almost frantically, Yunho spits out, “I’m in charge of these things, Sunggyu! I watch the radar for anything out of the ordinary. I’ve been trained to see threats before they get close enough to hurt anyone. This is my fault! Because I didn’t see them until it was too late.”

Sunggyu gives Yunho such a strong push that it almost sends him toppling off the bed. It’s also enough to free Sunggyu to sit up, tuck his legs under him and dig in for a fight.

“Didn’t you tell me that there are four guys who are supposed to be doing your job? At once?”

“You know why there’s only me now,” Yunho says back.

“I don’t care!” Sunggyu can’t bear to let Yunho shoulder the blame for so many deaths. “You are only one person, Yunho. And one person can’t do a job that’s meant for four people. But you’ve sure been trying. You spend fifteen hours, sometimes up to eighteen hours on the bridge, at your station. You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep, and I can go actual days without seeing you’re face and knowing you’re okay. That isn’t right and you know it.”

Yunho clenches his eyes shut. “But I knew someone was out there. I saw an abnormality on the radar days ago. But I couldn’t identify it, and I didn’t have enough time to investigate it. If I had, all those people would still be alive, and I wouldn’t have put you in danger.”

Sunggyu’s voice raises to a dangerous level, the kind that can even wake Dongwoo. “I am always going to be in danger from now on! We live in a world where people bite each other and turn into these … these monsters. No matter where I go, or what I do, things will never be safe again for me. Ever. Do you understand, Yunho?”

“This was my job.”

“And this is reality!” The beginning of a headache creeps up on Sunggyu with a steady pulse jetting through his forehead. “This is not your fault.”

“Over five hundred people are dead, Sunggyu.” Yunho slowly leans back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. “Five hundred Koreans and Taiwanese, plus god knows how many Chinese, we sank five of their ships before they pulled back. And even if you tell me it isn’t my fault, or that I was simply stretched too thin, and that I shouldn’t feel like this is on my shoulders, I will still know the truth.”

Sunggyu settles down next to him, his head pillowing on Yunho’s arm as it wraps around him. “You hit the alarm to alert people to the attack?”

Yunho nods.

“Then believe all you want about being responsible for those people dying, but also know that you saved my life.”

Yunho stills. “How?”

“Because I was with someone who knew what the alarm meant, and he was able to protect me. Because without that alarm, I could have been heading back to my cabin when the attack hit, and been on the stairs and fallen, or worse. Sungyeol’s cabin was hit. He’s fine, he’s alive, but the walk back to my cabin would have taken me very close to his. If you hadn’t been so quick to sound the alarm and put everyone on high alert, I could be dead. You have always looked out for me, Yunho, and protected me, and this is no exception.”

“You could have been on one of those other ships. I thought about putting you on that destroyer that sunk, Gyu. I thought it might be the better place for you. The safer place.”

Sunggyu asks, “Why have we stopped? The engines … I can’t hear them anymore.”

Yunho holds him in a precious manner and Sunggyu does his best not to fidget. “There are several ships that need to make repairs. Or at least patch up what they can. Two need a dry dock for certain. The Chinese that hit us were coordinated and very efficient. We’re hurt. And there’s been a change in the system of leadership that has to be worked out before we can continue. The Chinese may have hurt us in the attack, but we managed to critically damage a good deal of their ships. I don’t think they’ll try with us again. That’s not to say, of course, that someone else won’t. So don’t expect us to sit here for long.”

“Wait, wait.” Sunggyu thinks Yunho’s words over. “A change in the system of leadership?” Does this mean that Woohyun’s father is no longer captain? Who’s captain, then? How much is about the change?

Yunho explains, “I know you’ve never seen any of the others, but each ships has a captain or presiding officer. Until now they’ve been making joint decisions. There are still a few South Korean government officials left alive, but they’ve been evacuated to parts of Europe and for the most part, we’re not really in contact with them. I guess you could say we’re self governing right now.”

“Then what changed?”

“What happened?” Yunho’s voice takes on something akin to deep respect. “Captain Nam saved all our lives. I sounded the alarm, but he saved the fleet. In a matter of seconds he managed to coordinate everyone, implement a brilliant battle strategy, and he’s the one who ended up saving us, Gyu. Captain Nam outthought the Chinese and saved us. So the other captains and officers have decided to defer leadership to him for the time being. I guess you could say he’s been promoted.”

“Are we still going to Japan?”

Sunggyu feels Yunho nod. “We are.”

“Why?” It’s the question he’s never really asked. He understands that some of the many Japanese islands are isolated, and inhabitable. They’re probably the safest place in the world to be right now, but what is the South Korean endgame? What’s the purpose of uprooting them to foreign land? Why? To protect them? Control them?

“Sunggyu,” Yunho sighs out. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

This isn’t the answer Sunggyu is looking for, but he reasons that he likely shouldn’t push Yunho. His brother is frayed at the edges already, seemingly ready to break.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too, Yunho.”

Yunho’s voice chokes as he says, “You’re all I have left, Gyu. You’re the only thing left in this world that I love. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

For the first time Sunggyu feels like the big brother of the two of them. He turns his body fully into Yunho’s, tucks his arms around his brother and promises, “Nothing will happen to me. I’m going to be fine, and so are you.” It’s easily the worst lie he ever told, but if it comforts Yunho even a little, it’s worth it. “You and me, we’re going to make it, Yunho. So I want you to rest now. Sleep. I’m going to stay right here with you. You protected us earlier, now let me protect us now.”

It’s a testament to how exhausted Yunho must be that he falls asleep almost right away.

Sunggyu threads their fingers together and wills himself to stay awake incase Yunho has a bad dream or needs him.. Anyway, he doesn’t think he can get to sleep now even if he tries. He’ll sleep when he’s dead.