"What is it?"

The man holding the note swallowed at the harsh voice coming from inside a laboratory that was in a state that he and the others who worked there would have described as "organized chaos." He peered around stacks of old papers and racks of dusty reagents, many of which hadn't been opened in his lifetime. "Message from Dr. Junmyeon?" he replied, hoping the upturn of his voice hadn't shown his nervousness. It wasn't as if he hadn't been in the room thousands of times; in fact, he spent more time there than he did at home. Being there alone with his least favorite Dr. Kim, however, was a different story, especially after he'd been specifically ordered not to bother the doctor that day, and stay out of the room as much as possible. As sour and busy of a man as Dr. Jongin was, some inkling was telling the messenger that this letter was only going to make things worse.

"Oh, it's you Baekhyun. Come in." The young man did as he was told, accidentally grazing the edge of a stack of tediously placed papers as he did so. "Carefully!" hissed Jongin.

"S-sorry. Dr. Junmyeon sent me with this message. He wants you to read it immediately."

Setting down his instruments with a gentle click, Jongin took the envelope and swiftly ran his finger underneath the flap, separating it from the wax seal holding it shut.

"Jongin, I fear this is rather ill-timed, but I believe have contracted this wretched illness."

The rest of the letter came to Jongin in a blur. While he himself was the prodigal researcher on the case of the disease that had so far wiped out 10 percent of the population and was quickly counting, his supervisor was an irreplaceable aid in the research. Between his knowledge of even the most arcane of old techniques, and Jongin's innovative knack for thinking of ways to use and combine them in ways no one known to history had ever fathomed possible, the two were the country's highest hope for quelling the plague. If Jongin was the will, Junmyeon was the way.

Mind trembling but hands steady, he managed to focus back in on the last paragraph, hoping Junmyeon had found him a new way. "As we must keep as many people on the task as we have room in the lab, Baekhyun has recommended a bright young researcher by the name of Mister Chanyeol Park. Have Baekhyun bring him at your earliest convenience."

"Chanyeol Park." The name rang a bell in Jongin's mind, but he couldn't remember precisely where he had heard it. He tended not to involve himself too deeply in the affairs of others. While he wasn't quite fond of the idea of a new researcher, much less one recommended by Baekhyun, he knew Junmyeon had absolute confidence in his assistant's judgment, and Jongin had absolute confidence in Junmyeon.

"Baekhyun."

He snapped to attention at the sound of his name. "Doctor?"

"Go fetch Mr. Park and have him here in time for lunch. When you come back, take note of the extra information in this letter," he said, referring to Junmyeon's notes in the letter on things of interest for the research, which he had merely glazed over.

"Yes, sir."

Jongin didn't miss how quickly Baekhyun turned tail and left the room, and he knew it was only partially due to wanting to get Chanyeol there as quickly as possible. The boy was terrified of him, but neither of them were there to socialize and get along. Sighing, and with a quick hope that this sudden transition would happen as smoothly as possible, he returned to his work.
 

"Is something the matter here?"

Upon seeing for himself what was the matter, Junmyeon's face turned as ashen as the faces of the two men crouched around a broken flask, liquid spilt all amidst the shards.

He jumped back immediately. "Don't touch that; that's a plague sample!" he hissed. "Baekhyun, what happened? And why is Chanyeol in the lab?" He then noticed the blood dripping from Baekhyun's sliced palm. "!”

When Junmyeon’s rapidly darting eyes found what they were looking for (the nearest bottle of alcohol) what remaining bits of color were in the faces of Baekhyun and Chanyeol completely faded as they realized the grave predicament the former was in.

"I-I-It was my f-fault."

Junmyeon was uninterested in Baekhyun’s stammered apology, instead focusing on uncorking the bottle and pouring its contents over the arm as he crouched down next to the now shaking, tearing-up man. "Apologies are the least of your worries. Chanyeol, bring me the sharpest, heaviest knife you can find." He looked around for something he could use as a makeshift tourniquet.

As Baekhyun, in shock, continued to apologize, he wished the plague's effects were instantaneous when he saw Jongin at the door.

"What's going on?" he demanded as he came bursting through the entrance in his usual manner.

"Now Jongi—" Junmyeon tried to distract Jongin while tying a strip of scrap rubber around the sobbing Baekhyun’s arm forearm, but the taller of the two easily looked over his superior's shoulder to see the situation on the floor.

"Is that one of the plague samples?" he asked before his eyes began to dart back and forth between the flasks remaining on the counter and the one that had met its end.

"Calm down, J—"

"Who is he?" he demanded as his eyes landed on Chanyeol.

"D-Dr. Jongin..." Baekhyun tried.

"Which one of you is responsible for this!?"

"I am, Dr. Kim." Chanyeol presented his full, 6’1” frame to the mercy of Jongin, butcher-like knife in hand. " I cannot profess how sorry I am. I was—"

"What were you doing in my research area? Do you know how vital these—"

"Jongin!" Junmyeon finally roared. "He can't answer any of your questions if you don't allow him to speak!"

Jongin closed his mouth but his dark but steely eyes continued to shoot into Chanyeol.

"I was waiting for Baekhyun, and I suppose my curiosity for your research got the better of me," he admitted sheepishly. "I've always had an admiration for your work, Doctor."

"If you admired my work, you'd have the respect not to enter my laboratory in the first place," Jongin replied quietly. Chanyeol's face went from pale white to crimson, and he nodded silently.

Junmyeon murmured to his assistant as he took the knife from Chanyeol’s hand, pouring the remainder of the alcohol over it and pulling a match from a book he’d managed to grab from the counter to further reduce the chance of gangrene setting in in Baekhyun's future arm stump.

"No need to cut it off," Jongin said dismissively. "That was the control sample."

The rest of the room froze for what felt like a good three seconds before Baekhyun collapsed onto the floor in tears of joy, barely avoiding the remaining jagged glass, and the knife clattered from Junmyeon’s grip as he exhaled quietly and put his hand over his face.

"Say something earlier next time, will you?" he said into his hand.

Jongin said nothing to his superior, instead addressing his subordinate and the man who had caused the ordeal.

"Both of you, out. Actually, no. Baekhyun, you clean up this mess, and you, what's your name?"

"Chanyeol Park, sir."

"Mister Park, if I ever see you in this room again, I will make sure the next vial you break is not be a control."

"Understood, sir."

So that was where he knew the name from.

Bloody hell.

Jongin ran his hand down his face, suppressing a groan as he lamented the fact that the clumsy man was standing before him, in his lab, once again. He felt almost too sick to drink the rest of the cup of soup Baekhyun had brought him, prepared by Junmyeon’s wife. If indicated by the grayish-purple hue of his face, said clumsy man was too uncomfortable to breathe, and nor did Baekhyun look like he was comfortable.

“Mr… Park, is it?”

“Yessir,” came the terse reply, much too small for a man of his stature.

He was silent for a moment. “Right, well then. I suppose you know why you’re here, and I know why you’re intended to be here, but unlike what Dr. Kim seems to believe, it takes more than the approval of Mr. Byun to be of use in this laboratory. Hopefully, Mr. Byun advised you to think of something that will convince me you're worth something to our research,” he said as he laced his fingers together. "Impress me.”

“Y-Yessir. Well, I-I’ve been abroad recently, learning about various techniques that I think will be of use to your research,” he said. “I’m not fully aware of the types of techniques you’ve been using, but thanks to Baekhyun I do know some of them—“

“On with it.”

Usually, when Jongin interjected with some phrase meant to people under pressure during their interviews, any shred of confidence evaporated, but the man before him now began to speak more fervently. It was slightly intriguing. Only slightly.

“I know you've determined that the generation of the disease is spurred in the typical contact-based fashion. I also know you’ve discovered the effects of alcohol in preventing this from happening. As I’m currently aware, the majority of your research has been focused on finding a cure, not naming triggers for the infection. But I believe that recent research being done in France and Germany may suggest a mechanism that could unlock a way to prevent the disease.”

“On with it,” Jongin said, this time in less of a bark and more in the tone of an inquisitive scientist.

“They believe that the disease is spread by tiny organisms invisible to the eye.” Realizing that that statement had just put him in danger of losing the interest of Jongin (who had just rolled his eyes,) some of his nervousness came creeping back, and he began speaking more quickly, “Of course, the presence of something of this nature would be very easily confirmed or denied by a powerful microscope, and I heard a researcher close to you has the most powerful microscope in the world. One that can magnify up to two hundred times.”

The boy—Jongin should later confirm whether or not Mr. Park was younger or older than himself—seemed to almost have an aura of excitement about him that made even Jongin think twice about the absurdity of the theory. “…Perhaps,” he murmured. Well, as dubious and whimsical a theory as “tiny organisms” sounded, Jongin wasn’t one to automatically consider any new theory to be hogwash, especially not if it was as simple to test as Mr. Park had made it sound.

“Baekhyun. Contact Dr. Zhang’s laboratory at once. Er, that is, after you eat your lunch,” he added. A note in his own lunch had contained a soft-stated but firm reminder from Junmyeon’s wife to not be too hard on Baekhyun in Junmyeon’s absence. “Mr. Park, later I’ll want to supervise you as you make slides from these samples. Have you had lunch yet?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” the boy replied, his aura now at the point where Jongin was worried he would burst into flame as he realized that Jongin had just implied his approval.