“Life is like a movie. There will be a brief pause and the screen will turn blank. Three years later will appear…and everything will be fine again. Time will improve everything.”

That bright white light shone within all four walls. The simple hospital white theme: “Welcome to Heaven.” Minseok first recognized the ache in his stiff neck when he came to.

He’d just woken up fourteen-year-old Jo Heesun up from her three month coma. Doctors claimed there was no hope for her. At hearing that, any one parent would become desperate and that was when their – he and Jongdae’s – agency, Somnium Agentia, was approached by the heartbroken couple.

It was a hit and run by a company vehicle. The company would only cover payment up to the fourth month of hospitalization, stated they would pull the plug by the promised time. Frantic, the couple begged for long hours.

It turned out the fourteen-year-old Heesun had locked herself away in her mind. Fear of returning to be bullied and depressed by the exhausting world made her hide consciousness away. He and Jongdae arrived at the hospital in the late evening, were allowed in by the doctor’s approval, and when he got down to business curious nurses had crowded to watch him slip away.

For his ability to work, the needed person had to be sleeping. Under all circumstances it only worked if the dreamer was subdued by sleep. Only then could he enter their minds. Explaining about how the ability came to, was a long story he rarely thought about. But now that he was awake, the sun was out and he realized he’d been there the whole night cramped up in the hospital’s most uncomfortable plastic chair.

First things to enter his consciousness was the cries of the fragile mother, gone weak over the months, bawling as she held her woken daughter close. Her hands gripping Heesun, as if letting her go might mean really letting her go. Teenagers, he mused, are such easily scared things.

From beside him, Jongdae exceptionally and repeatedly bowed as the father grasped his hand to express his gratefulness. The cliché sum of his work would be done when they walked out of the room and now all they had to do was await the money to be deposited into their bank account.

“Lets go,” waiting for the expression of thanks to be over, he stood and stepped out of the room, Jongdae joining him along the way.

The milky white hallway appeared gloomy that early morning, stretching out before them as they started side-by-side toward the elevator. A group of young interns walked passed with curious gazes. Jongdae paid them no heed. Minseok did the same. They were no longer amused by the gazes of outsiders.

Somnium Agentia, Latin for Dream Agency, had been founded by them about four years ago. Honestly, the name hadn’t sounded attractive at first, but Jongdae insisted it would catch attention, not being the typical Hee Jung Private Detective Agency or whatever. In the end, the name grew on him and now he didn’t think much of it.

“You’re frustrated,” Jongdae uttered as they stepped into the elevator, punched the lobby button and waited for it to close.

Minseok was still stretching out his neck. He needed a massage to rid of the tension in his body. Every time he went to work he was always sitting. Sometimes his neck would crane back or lump forward. It always had to be one or another. Jongdae could correct his position, but another most important condition to his ability was he couldn’t be touched.

That was why, if anything ever went wrong with his job, Jongdae would have to wake him up.

Jongdae, like him, had a special ability. He was psychic – a psychic empath. Ever since Minseok could recall, Jongdae always read him like an open book, even when he didn’t have the plainest of expression on his face. And that was why their duo was effective. Jongdae, when only close by, would heighten his powers to their strongest. That was why, if ever, anything went wrong when he was inside the mind of another’s, Jongdae would know when to leap to get him out of there.

“It’s the human mind I tell you,” Minseok mumbled, “it’s so fickle. One moment it’s a thorn and the next it’s completely a cotton ball.”

Jongdae snorted at the metaphorical talk. Minseok slightly glared at him. He lacked humor – actually they did. It made them quite the same. The gap there was that Jongdae may be happier than he on levels he didn’t want to comprehend. Right now Minseok felt like a fly meaninglessly dawdling around until he might land on a tree branch that felt right, that kind of right.

“Chen,” he said when the elevator doors made way for them, “I’m going home. I need to sleep. Wake me up if anything comes in at work.”

Chen, code name for Jongdae, was what they used when they were outside. It was to protect their real identities. Neither wanted to associate with clients personally, thus avoided using their birth names at all costs. It had been a kind of smart advice Jongdae’s father leant them when they first started working. So shredding the business cards Jongdae had so heartily prepared with their real names, he remade new ones. With slightly better details, Minseok would have to add. Both their names printed in deep black ink, their agency name in a golden color.

“Why am I the one picking up messages?” Jongdae whined from beside him. “I stayed up all night too.”

“We agreed the secondary company phone would be registered with your name,” Minseok pointed out. Since Jongdae was younger, he was obligated to follow his orders. So now Jongdae not only had his own personal cellular phone, but a second phone. One time he had complained that he didn’t know which phone was ringing.

They headed into the lobby and out the revolving doors. Summer was coming to an end. The sun would come up later and go down faster. The season of leaves was making its entrance too fast into their side of the world. Time would call for heavier jackets and colder streets. Then snow would come. God, Minseok hated driving through the snowy streets. He would have preferred a warmer world, but he also hated spring.

Spring…it was during spring when his family was murdered. It was one thing he didn’t think about, but it was also another chapter of his life when he met Jongdae. Jongdae’s father, a cop at the time, had been in charge of the case. There was no statute of limitations in the case of murders, but he honestly didn’t feel like he cared.

“Fine, I’ll grab a cab back.” Jongdae muttered. “I’ll call you later.”

Minseok watched his best friend walk toward the busy street then made his way toward the parking lot. They lived separately. To live alone was one thing he’d decided on from since long ago when he came of age. Up until then, he shared a home with Jongdae, who came from a single parent household, and because they’d become friends the moment his father introduced them. Minseok would never forget the day he watched Jongdae beg his father with puppy eyes to let his friend stay instead of being sent to social services. He guessed they were sort of brothers, he just didn’t think of it that way.

Using money he’d saved up from part time jobs and some of his parents’ insurance money, he bought a one room studio. He still lived there today. It still looked like the very condition it was in when he first looked at it. Over time he never placed anything inside his home to make it look like it belonged to him. Minseok had lost interest in doing such a thing. His studio was just as plain as his outlook on life. There were the troubled and he was the rescuer, nothing more to it.

After taking a long hot shower with the droplets snaking down his body, he drank a hot cup of tea. After dumping the rest of its contents into his double silver sink, he made for the cabinet where his medicine was stored. His sleeping pills came into sight.

That was right. Since that fateful evening that he’d been discovered covered in blood, he always slept fitfully. It was trauma, his doctor diagnosed and he slept with sleeping pills ever since then. It was a calmer, a life saver, and it was what helped him from his exhausting work. Going to sleep on his job wasn’t actually sleep. He was still partially wake, only in someone else’s world.

Today, he needed sleep and sleep he would do.

Taking the pills along with a cup of water, he crawled under his gray sheets and curled up.    

***

After having been awake all night long and finishing their work, Jongdae felt almost as exhausted as Minseok. He didn't know, though, who had it worse. Minseok for working his mind out and letting his body get full of kinks for the different weird positions he always ended up falling asleep in; or Jongdae, for staying up all night and putting his mind in sync with Minseok's so nothing went wrong with the process. Nevertheless, both of them had it quite hard. It was really tiring, but that's what they chose to do and signed up for. After all, it didn't even matter since their supernatural or weird —as most of external people liked to describe them— abilities were, if not always, mostly on their verge. So why waste it all up when they could use it for the good? It was exciting at times, even. Or so Jongdae thought.

He had taken the cab to get to his home, since Minseok was hyper tired and the younger man just knew better than to push his boundaries. All of Minseok's aura screamed tension, exhaustion and stress. Frustration even, as he'd pointed out before. So he didn't push it further with the elder, knowing only talking was tiring enough. Minseok had been so stressed up lately. But Jongdae comprehended; it was hard not to.

Sometimes Minseok's tiredness and stress would rub off on Jongdae himself; after all, it was what being a psychic empath was all about. He knew how to shield himself from almost all the auras and energies around him, but there were just some people, like Minseok, who had a big and a huge hell of an aura. And since 90% of his time was spent beside Minseok, it was hard to define whose aura was whose those few hours together —sometimes even minutes, depending on what they were up to—. And that is why, exactly, it was just too easy for Jongdae to read, understand and know how Minseok was feeling or even thinking —plus, they knew each other since forever so, it was hard not to know how the shorter male was doing, really—.

When the cab stopped at the front of his building department, he handed the driver the bill and stepped out of the car. Letting out a tired sigh, he walked towards the entrance of the complexity, smiling and offering a few coins to the homeless man that often —more than not— sat beside the entrance gates. Jongdae was a kind man at heart and felt joy at helping others... Perks or disadvantages of empaths.

Once inside the building, he stepped into the elevator and tapped his floor number. He walked lazily through the hall until he faced his department's door and keyed the knob, unlocking it.

His department complex was simple but kind of fancy at the same time. In difference of Minseok who liked simple and minimalistic things, Jongdae liked bigger and huger things as in living and home matters. He loved the space and tranquility; all for himself. So he'd chosen one of the quieter but more executive zones of the city.

He'd asked Minseok to share the department, out of habit, as they'd always lived together and were comfortable and used to each other. They were just molded to each other's habits and all the fuss.  Though it didn't really surprise him when the elder male rejected his suggestion politely. Because he understood, really. Minseok wanted to relax and live by his own at least a small part of his life since they'd be seeing each other every day at any hour, anyways. So the brunette, again, didn't give it much thought. Also, they both knew that one way or another, though really small, they affected each other a little. Just a tiny bit. Occupational hazards: Minseok would sometimes barge into his dreams accidentally and Jongdae would swallow up just too much of the other's energy. It was funny at times but overwhelming at others, so they saved up the trouble. of tranquility since, being outside with all the people around them, was kind of hectic for their own minds and moods. They were so alike and different at the same time.

As soon as he got in his home, sweet home, he got off his shoes and discarded the coat that once held his hands over the couch on his living room and walked directly to the kitchen.

He unfastened his tie while serving a glass of cold water and looked at the time. 7:23AM. No wonder he was exhausted. He gulped down the whole full glass and washed it before returning it on its place. He walked to his bedroom and took his pajamas and new underwear before entering his bathroom. He showered quickly and flopped on his bed once finished. He put his personal cell phone in silence-mode and the one that corresponded to work, in loud-mode.

Just a few hour or minutes of sleep, I swear, he thought to himself and set up an alarm to wake him up in two hours. 

Not even an hour and half in, his work-cell phone started vibrating and sounding at its loudest volume, indicating an incoming call. Jongdae shifted in his place and turned sleepily and grumpily at the source of disturbance.

“,” he mumbled under his breath.

Sitting up slightly and clearing his throat, he took the phone up and slid his finger over the screen without even looking at it to answer the call.

“Good morning, Somnium Agentia. This is Chen. In what can I help you?” he voiced out his well-memorized trade answering phrase.

“Uh... Yes... This is... Lee Boyoung. Uh... You are the dream detectives, right? Who fix dreams and help people through their minds and dreams, right?” the woman at the other end replied, a little hesitant.

Jongdae hummed affirmatively, “Yes, we are. What is it what you need?” He fumbled for his notebook on the nightstand next to his bed and took the pen next to it, ready to take note.

“Well, see,” the woman proceeded. “It's just that I've been having these same nightmares night after night.” The brunette hummed on knowledge and an indication for her to proceed. “They stopped for a few weeks or months, but I've been having them every night lately and it's perturbing my sleep and they also scare me a lot.” The woman sounded really nervous and, for her tone, really perturbed and scared as she said; the young male could feel it through her voice, too, sensing the fear.

Jongdae hummed again, “Can you tell me what your nightmares are about exactly and if they are related to any traumatic situation or just anything that had happened to you recently?” He replied while taking his notes attentively. “Such as a situation that could have put you in a great state of stress?”

“Uh... Well... Around the beginning of last year my... My younger sister...” Her voice started to tremble and Jongdae could sense the hurt, fear and tension on it. “She was... She was murdered. And in these nightmares, I see her. I see her scared. She trembles and screams; and then she fades... She fades and a huge darkness overwhelms me and then... And then he... He appears... He's always there. Running after me!”

By this, the woman was sobbing and Jongdae made a painful face, wrinkling his nose. He could almost feel a shiver down his spine.

“Who is  he, Mrs. Lee? Can you tell me?” He continued nonetheless, while he scribbled furiously on his notebook.

“I'm not sure...” the woman proceeded. She seemed to take a few breathes, a little calmer now. “I think he is my sister's murderer... But... I'm not sure. I can never see his face. But he appears just - Just after my sister... And... It's so scary! I always wake up when he's about to balance over me...” she let out a shaking breath and begged with a pitiful small voice. “Please, please. Help me.”

Jongdae bit his lips and closed his eyes, thinking hard. A murder case. Damn. “Yes, Mrs. Lee. We will do whatever it is possible and at the reach of our hands. Now just let me ask you these brief questions.” He waited for the woman to hum in approval and he continued. “Have you seen a doctor or took any medicine to calm the nightmares?”

The woman sighed, “Yes, I did. Many times. But none of it helps. I'm desperate, please. And I've heard you guys are really good at what you are.”

“Yes, we are,” Jongdae affirmed. “I will check up and analyze your case with my partner, Mrs. Lee. Since it is a case that is related to a traumatic and strong event such as a murder, we need to calculate and review the proceeds and work we will need to do. ” He heard the woman let out another shuddering breath. “Do not worry, Mrs. Lee, I will do the possible to help you. I will discuss your case with my partner and I will be contacting you in the afternoon. Is that okay with you?”

“Y-yes. Yes! Of course. I'll be waiting...” Jongdae pitied her.

“Alright. I will keep in contact, Mrs. Lee. Have a good morning,” and with a last Thank you and a You too, Detective Chen, Jongdae hung up.

Jongdae let out a huff and let his body fall backwards, flopping on his comfy pillow. He stared intently at the ceiling, pondering on what to do.

“!” He yelled at no one in particular. “Why does it have to be so ing complicated! Why a murder case, why!” the brunette gripped and pulled at his hair angrily before giving up and closing his eyes, a tired and defeated sigh leaving his mouth.

He shifted and rolled and shifted again on his bed. His whole mind a mess. Because, how can he let Minseok in on a case like this? It was jeopardizing the sanity of his colleague and best friend. He knew, though, that Minseok would want to work in this case even with more reason. But he also knew it was only going to bring back up all the demons Minseok had been pushing to be very back of his past. Of his mind. Of his life.

Jongdae wanted to help the woman so badly but he didn't want to threaten Minseok's sanity. He knew all that the older male has built up would crumble. Sooner or later. And he for no means wanted that.

He pondered and pondered. Analyzed, calculated, thought and thought the issue over and over again. And after an hour and half of fighting and arguing with himself, his mind more than a war zone-level mess, he let out a last defeated sigh; giving up. He decided he might as well discuss this whole situation slowly with Minseok.

The brunette looked at the hour again. 10:36AM. Crap he cursed in his mind again and hesitantly took one of his cell phones and dialed Minseok on speed dial, hoping the latter was already awake or at least half awake.

Said man answered at the 5th beep, voice sleepy and rough from sleep. “Jongdae, you better be calling for an URGENT work matter or else I'm gonn—”

“You can do that later,” the younger nervously interrupted firmly. “It is about work. But we need to talk. Right now.”

Minseok groaned but sensed the seriousness in Jongdae's tone. “Alright,” he simply replied, tone cautious.

“I'll be there in twenty.”