Sungjong took in a deep, raspy breath, trying to fight off the tears that prickled at his eyes. There was a hollow pit in his stomach that had nothing to do with the painful hunger pangs hitting his stomach. He gasped in another mouthful of air but it did nothing to lessen the lump in his throat and a sob escaped him instead.

Hoya stirred at the sound, but thankfully didn’t awaken. At least in sleep, he could be free of the pain.

Sungjong stared into the darkness, trying to picture how the place he was crouched in would look like in the day. It was a tiny hole under the bridge, where he and Hoya barely managed to squash themselves in. Mould decorated the stone walls, and Sungjong’s skin crawled each time his fingers or face accidentally touched it. Slime and gunk festered on the floor, where water from the river occasionally splashed in. The grate covering the entrance of the hole was old and rusted, which had enabled Sungjong to force it open easily and put it back in place, but which bit at Sungjong’s toes and stopped him from stretching out his legs.

Sungjong rubbed his palms together, trying to gain some warmth. Luckily it was March, which meant that winter was slowly dying, but the air remained cold, stinging him anyway. Sungjong rearranged the musty old blankets he had scavenged from the dustbins of the nearby neighbourhood, making sure that Hoya was fully covered, but what did it matter anyway – when the ground itself remained damp and wet.

How did this happen? Just two weeks ago, he had been with his brothers, laughing happily in a heated hotel room richly furnished and beautifully decorated. He had eaten roast chicken for dinner and chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream for desert. He had slept in a warm bed and swam in a luxurious pool.

Because they found out, the voice in his head taunted him, they found out that you’re gay and they’ve destroyed your life. You should have hidden your secret better. You fool.

It’s not my fault that I’m gay, Sungjong retaliated, clenching his fingers.

It’s your fault that you destroyed your group, the voice hissed back. It’s your fault that the other members have been beaten, tortured and humiliated. It’s your entire fault and yet, you’re still happy, aren’t you? You’re happy that at least the other members know who you really are.

Sungjong lowered his head. The other members knowing his secret and still standing by him and loving him – it did warm his heart. It was more than he ever expected.

Selfish, the voice screamed, you’re a selfish brat! Look at Hoya! Look at where he has to sleep because of you! He’s been shot! Look at how much Infinite have suffered! How much your parents must be suffering now!

Sungjong shook his head hard. It was almost laughable that he was having an argument with himself.

But what else was he to do, stuck in a dinghy hole while the police scoured every inch of the ground above?

It’s been exactly four days since the police tried to arrest him. Hoya had managed to drive far enough for them to momentarily lose the police, but it had been a long and hard struggle to walk away from the car and find somewhere to hide. Sungjong had half carried Hoya as they wandered into a nearby town and took refuge under the bridge. The police had been slow to arrive there, giving them enough time to hide.

Sungjong had brought Hyungdon’s first aid kit from the car with him, and had quickly checked Hoya’s wound.

“Hyung,” Sungjong whispered, staring at the blood encrusted

The bullet had luckily not embedded itself into Hoya’s shoulder, but instead, had nicked the top of his shoulder, leaving a small gaping hole where blood seemed to continuously ooze out.

“Is the bullet still there?” Hoya asked through clenched teeth.

“It’s left a hole, hyung. Not a big one but it’ll need stitches,” Sungjong murmured. The gore didn’t bother him, but the sight of so much blood belonging to Hoya made his stomach roll. “You need to go to the hospital.”

“No,” Hoya said firmly, “no hospital. Just bandage it up, Jongie.”

Sungjong to his side to look at Hoya’s shoulder. He’d just changed the bandage a few hours ago but blood and pus was already staining the cloth. Reaching out a shaking hand to Hoya’s forehead, Sungjong confirmed that yes, the fever was still there.

The wound was infected, was the only conclusion Sungjong could come up with.  He didn’t know medicine except from what he saw from action movies. But it’s been four days now, and though the blood was congealed, there was pus and ugly smears around Hoya’s wound, and the older boy had been suffering from a high fever for a couple of days now.

Of course it’s infected, Sungjong thought, good healing was hardly going to happen in a place like this. What do I do?

He couldn’t remember ever being so helpless, and each pained breath Hoya took in felt like a sword into his side. He whispered his apologies into the air again, his hand clenching Hoya’s tightly.

Sleep came late but he was the first to wake up to the early morning. Sungjong swept the blanket off him and prepared to go out and get food, though he wasn’t sure if Hoya would be able to hold anything solid down. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten for two days now, having secretly given his share of food to Hoya. And the only water he had drank was the river water.

Making sure that Hoya’s breathing was still steady, Sungjong kicked out the grate covering the hole and clambered out. It was still dark outside – but it was almost blissful to stretch his arms and legs out again, and guilt wracked him to remember that Hoya had been unable to get out of the hole for a day now.

Hoya had been able to move around for the first two days, and he had shown Sungjong the tricks almost – where to get food, water, clothes, how to spot and avoid the cameras. The only problem was that it needed stealth and a sleight of hand, and Hoya was the only one good at that. Which meant that Sungjong had to resort to scavenging the communal dustbins.

The dustbin area was surrounded by residential houses, but hardly anyone woke up at five in the morning, so Sungjong was able to pull down his hoodie and creep between the dustbins. He could hear police sirens in the distance, which raised the hairs at the back of his neck. The police presence in the town had been neverending, forcing Sungjong and Hoya to stay under the bridge if they didn’t want to be found.

Sungjong had found a half eaten sandwich pack and amazingly, an unopened bottle of Coke, when a ragged newspaper caught his eye.

It was dated three days ago, and the front page was littered with pictures of Sunggyu being punched as he clung to the door, of Woohyun being dragged by his hair, of Dongwoo, Sungyeol and Myungsoo being restrained, their faces bruised and bloodied. Sungjong’s heart stopped as he desperately clutched the newspapers, his eyes reading the writings –

“Concerns regarding the safety of Infinite members is circulating amongst the general public, after pictures arose of the police brutally arresting all of them as they tried to buy time for their maknae member, Sungjong . Despite being released on bail a few hours later, Infinite sported the fresh cuts as they returned home – “

Sungjong dropped the newspaper as bile hit the back of his throat. He couldn’t breathe for the first few seconds, guilt and anger seeming to form a tight band across his chest.

The sound of a door creaking open startled him to remembering where he was, and he quickly ducked behind the dustbins as an old lady walked out of her house and into her front lawn. She was tall, with a firm straight back but a rigidity to her movements that suggested that age had caught up with her. Sungjong stared. Her face was stern and tight, but there was something about her eyes and the wrinkles around that reminded him of Dongwoo.

“Come on birds,” the woman’s voice was husky as she scattered raw rice seeds onto the grass.

The old woman lived alone, Sungjong remembered. He had never seen anyone else going and out of the house and there was no care in the driveway. She must be lonely, he thought and for half a second, gratefulness for the other members always being with him surged through.

Hoya was angry when Sungjong returned. His face seemed to be permanently contorted with pain nowadays but his eyes had not lost its youthful glint.

“Where were you?” Hoya rasped. “I told you to wake me up if you go out!”

“Sorry hyung,” Sungjong murmured. He sat down next to Hoya and pressed the sandwich and Coke into the older boy’s hands. “Here, eat something.”

Hoya sighed and looked away. “I’m not hungry. You eat.”

“I’m not hungry either.”

“Jongie, I know you’ve barely eaten at all for the past few days – “

“I’m turning myself in.”

Hoya’s eyes widened and he stared in shock for a few seconds before understanding finally dawned on him. He grabbed Sungjong’s wrist as tight as he could but Sungjong shook it off easily.

“I can’t stand this anymore, hyung,” Sungjong said, taking Hoya’s hand and pressing a kiss onto it. “I refuse to be responsible for your arm getting gangrene and falling off – “

“Jongie, it’s hardly going to fall off – “

“Or for the other members to get beaten up because of me – “

“They tough! They can take it – and they deserve the occasional beating too!”

“Or for Infinite’s reputation to suffer any further,” Sungjong finished firmly.

“Jongie,” Hoya hissed, “you’re naive, so you have no idea. But they will mess you up in prison, Jongie. I’m serious – they will torture you, they will make you wish you’d never been born, and force you to sign a confession – “

“Hyung,” Sungjong’s voice finally cracked, “I’d rather that than to have to see you like this.”

Hoya grimaced and cursed under his breath before shouting, “You’re not turning yourself in! I don’t care if I die but I won’t let you land into the police’s hands.”

“You need proper treatment.”

“Listen to me, you idiot – “

“No,” Sungjong said, kicking out the grate and scrambling out, ignoring the feel of slime coating his fingers. “Let’s go.”

Hoya had tears in his eyes as he desperately tried to cling on to Sungjong’s arm. “Don’t do it, Jongie, please, I’m begging you.”

Sungjong drew in another breath, feeling oddly calm as he manhandled Hoya out of the hole. It was a sign of how weakened Hoya had become that even Sungjong could pull him out.

But it’s okay, Sungjong told himself, Hoya hyung was going to be in a comfortable bed in the hospital in a few hours.

“Jongie, if you go to the police, I’ll cut off my arm, I swear it!”

Hoya’s scream echoed in Sungjong’s ear and he blinked at the older boy, his lower lip trembling. “Hyung, this is already hard enough. I’m trying to be brave – “

“Well you’re being dense! Nothing will be achieved from you going to prison!”

Sungjong stood still, one arm around Hoya’s waist and the other bringing Hoya’s arm around his shoulders for support. There was a faint idea in his head – but would it work?

Luckily there was no movement in the neighbourhood as Sungjong half carried Hoya through the dustbin area. They limped together, Sungjong’s stride determined and purposeful, while Hoya’s skittsh.

“Someone’s going to see us,” Hoya murmured. “Jongie, this is not a good idea.”

Sungjong said nothing and walked towards the house nearest to the dustbins. He hesitated before ringing the bell. As he thought, the old lady opened the door within seconds. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of them – both of the scruffy, dirty with blood staining their clothes.

“Please ajumma,” Sungjong whispered. He bowed as far as he could without dislodging Hoya. “Please, help us.”

The woman stared at them in silence for a few long seconds, during which Sungjong’s heart hammered hard at his ribcage. He could feel Hoya stiffening, probably trying to gear himself up to run.

“Come in.” The old woman opened the door and gestured inside, a thin, grim line.

Sungjong’s jaw dropped as he tried not to enflame the flicker of hope within him. “Really?”

“Quickly. Bring him upstairs,” the woman said, and thought her tone was harsh, it was the most beautiful word Sungjong thought he could hear.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Sungjong bowed again and rushed in just as the dawn’s sun began to rise up.

Inside, was a normal home, decorated with antiques and had a prim and proper air. Sungjong helped manoeuvre Hoya through the small opening corridor and helped the boy limp upstairs.

“Bring him through the first door on your right,” the woman said. Sungjong complied, slightly surprised to find that he had opened the door to a large bathroom. The woman followed them in and moved in front of Hoya to start ing his shirt.

“Wait,” Hoya tried to protest, his eyes laden with suspicion and worry.

“You need to be washed and cleaned,” the woman said firmly with her hands on her hips. “Get into the bath.”

Maybe it was the way she used the exact same tone that Sunggyu used to nag, but Hoya relented and allowed her to strip him completely as Sungjong did as the lady ordered and ran a warm bath. The woman hissed as she unravelled Hoya’s bandage and the sickly sweet smell of infection filled the air, overpowering even Sungjong and Hoya’s sharp stench.

“It’s badly infected,” the woman said. “But it should heal well if you follow my instructions. You’re lucky the bullet didn’t go any lower. It would have severed a main artery.”

“Hoya hyung is going to be fine?” Sungjong asked, his heart skipping a beat from the pure joy that surged through him.

The lady levelled a stern glare at him. “If he listens to what I say. Now, you boy - get in the bath.”

Sungjong stood by as Hoya washed himself and as the woman sat next to the bath on a stool and cleaned Hoya’s wound. She had taken out a medical kit from the bathroom cabinet and used a metal spoon to scrape out the puss. Hoya’s hands tightened around the baththub edges and Sungjong had to look away as the woman brought out swabs, disinfectant and a needle.

“Boy,” the woman said sharply and Sungjong stood straighter upon realising that she was talking to him. “This will take a while. Go prepare the bedsheets in the room next door.”

Sungjong hesitated, unsure if he should be leaving his dazed looking hyung alone with the woman. She seemed to see the conflict on his face.

“I was an army medic. I know how to handle this. Now, go,” she said.

Sungjong watched Hoya lie in the bed peacefully. The constant pained frown that marred his face was now gone. He was shirtless, only wearing the fresh bandage that was clipped securely. Sungjong’s chest felt tight to see the older boy comfortably waddled in the soft sheets.

“Go to sleep, hyung,” Sungjong said.

“We don’t know if we can trust her,” Hoya said, but his tone was considerably softer.

“She reminds me of Dongwoo hyung,” Sungjong said. “She has the same eyes.”

“Please tell her not to laugh like Dongwoo hyung. I think I might get a heart attack.”

Sungjong giggled and reached out to clasp Hoya’s hand. “Hyung, remember when you asked me to rank you on how handsome you’re in Infinite?”

“Yeah?”

“I lied. You’re number one.”

Hoya sniggered. “I knew it. Wait till I tell Sungyeol – he’s going to flip. He owes me ten pounds now.”

Sungjong raised an eyebrow despite himself. “You two made a bet?”

Hoya didn’t reply, his eyes already falling shut and his chest rising up and down steadily. Sungjong stayed seated at the end of the bed, content to watch Hoya sleep peacefully for the rest of the day. Guilt still twisted his heart to remember that he was yet to know the condition the other members were in.

“His fever will break by tonight, but that arm will be out of order for a month at least.”

The brittle voice that slashed through the air made Sungjong jump. He turned quickly to see the woman standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Thank you, maam,” Sungjong got to his knees and bowed. “Will he be able to use his arm normally after that?”

“We can only wait and see,” the woman said. She gestured for Sungjong to follow her out, and he hastily did so, gently closing the bedroom door behind him.

Sungjong didn’t think it could ever feel so good to have a bath. The water was so deliciously warm, compared to the freezing river slime, and it was heavenly to get the dirt scrubbed off from his body and the grease in his hair washed off. He sat in the bath with his knees to his chest as the woman sat next to the bath on a stool, massaging shampoo into his hair.

“I don’t know how I could ever thank you for this,” Sungjong finally spoke, breaking the silence.  “I don’t know if you know who me or my hyung are but we are eternally in your debt.”

“I do watch the news, boy,” the woman said. “You’re Lee Sungjong and the other one is Lee Howon. I saw the broadcast where you two ran away.”

Sungjong clenched his hands tightly and his voice shook as he said, “Please...please don’t turn us in to the police. I swear to you, I am not a hacker. I don’t even know how to. I –“

“Quiet,” the woman spoke briskly, but her hands were tender as she washed his hair. “I know you’re innocent. A guilty boy would never have his teammates fight to assuredly for his freedom. I saw how your members barricaded the police’s way. They wouldn’t have done so if they weren’t sure of your character.”

“They got hurt because of me,” Sungjong’s voice caught in his throat and he couldn’t help the sob that burst through. “I keep hurting everyone around me. The people I love the most... they’re getting hurt because I’m nothing but an abnormal weakling who keeps bringing them down.”

s pained faces kept flashing before his eyes and before he knew it, more sobs had followed and his body was wracked with hard cries. Warm hands wrapped around his shoulders and he found himself being cradled in tight hug. His hair was gently, reminding him of the time s had fallen asleep hugging him, and the ache within him intensified. He missed everyone so much...

“Now, stop crying,” the woman’s voice was firm yet not unkind. “You have many people who love you and you’re in safe hands for now.”

Sungjong drew in deep breaths and tried to stop the flow of tears. He partly managed it but didn’t pull away from the woman’s hold. It felt almost like his mother’s touch.

“My court date is less than a month away,” Sungjong said in a steadier tone.

“You and your brother will stay here until then,” the woman said. She steered him to sit back down in the bathtub and returned to washing his hair. “I’m sure your leader is in the process of sorting the legal matters.”

“Thank you,” Sungjong said for what he felt for the hundredth time. But he couldn’t express his gratitude enough for the wings of safety that seemed to wrap around him and Hoya. It felt so good to be able to get out of that hole under the bridge. “But maam, what do I call you?”

The woman remained quiet for a short while before finally saying, “Call me Grandma. That’s enough.”

“Thank you, Grandma,” Sungjong said politely and he turned to flash her a small, tentative smile. “Have you seen Infinite’s performances before?”

“It’s hard to miss when that kpop rubbish is shown after every single drama episode,” Grandma sighed.

Sungjong laughed, feeling lighter than he’d been in weeks. The storm had passed now, but he could feel in his bones, the approach of something bigger and more terrifying. Twenty six more days until the court date, the court hearing which could send him to prison.

Trust Sunggyu hyung, he admonished himself, hyung will definitely do something to help.

Sunggyu hyung, Dongwoo hyung, Woohyun hyung, Sungyeol hyung, Myungsoo-ah...

Please stay safe and keep each other warm...

I’m so sorry but with my medical exams coming up, I will have to take a three week hiatus from this fic! I will carry on posting updates around the 22^nd of May! Please wait till then!

Also, please leave your comments on this chapter! I’d love to know your thoughts! xxx