Everything was chaotic enough on the ferry for nobody to ask for tickets or proof of travel identification.  As they sat in a small medical area, a surgeon who happened to be travelling back to the mainland contemplating over whether it was best for Sehun to wait until they were back on the mainland to go to hospital or whether it was a better idea to use what equipment was there to extract the bullet without anaesthetic, Sehun learnt from a concerned crew member that loading up the first ferry to make the trip back across to the mainland had been a huge mess.  Everybody and their dog wanted – no, demanded – to be on board because nobody was sure whether the continuing typhoon would close off the shipping lands again and many hadn’t been able to take the ferries they’d booked themselves on because trips had been cancelled.  This had resulted in a free-for-all and the ferry just taking as many people as it could from the front of the queue, but they’d then been stormed by some thugs – undoubtedly Sangchu’s men, Sehun thought – who spent some time intimidating the passengers and turning everything upside down before leaving again.

Once they had been given dry, spare clothes and another member of the crew had regretfully informed them that they could only rustle up one spare room for the voyage with a single bed, and once the surgeon had told Sehun he was probably better getting his arm seen to in a hospital because there was probably damage to the bone that needed proper machinery to look at it, Sehun set about trying to figure out the best way to get hold of Yixing or Minseok to let them know that they were safe.  Both his and Weiyi’s phones were waterlogged, but the chef kindly provided them with bowls of rice to put the phones in and Sehun left them by a heater to speed up the water-absorption process.  If there had been signal out at sea, he would have removed the SIM card in Weiyi’s and asked somebody if it was possible to borrow their phone to make a call, but all they could rely on was GPS.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, Sehun’s arm was in pain.  The surgeon had given him painkillers, but they didn’t seem to be doing much, and his body was beginning to make its protests about their escape known.  Weiyi sat on the bed, blinking sleepily and yawning at the small room.  Sehun was wondering if there might be a spare mattress or duvet anywhere, but he didn’t know if he had the energy to get up and go and ask, and the pain in his arms and legs deterred him from even trying.

“I’m cold,” Weiyi announced suddenly, holding out her arms.

Sehun just stared at her for several moments.  The room was warm – it was heated – and they were in dry clothes, sheltered from the elements.  There was no conceivable way she was cold unless she’d contracted hypothermia, but she looked too well to have done so.  Her cheeks were rosy and flushed, her skin no way near as pale as it had been when he’d first met her, and she was smiling.

“If you’re cold, I’m a fish,” he muttered, flopping onto his back and closing his eyes.  The muscles on either side of his spine spasmed briefly and settled into a dull ache, but he’d been through worse.

“I’m not cold,” Weiyi admitted.  “Are you going to sleep?”

Sehun nodded.  He heard rustling, and then she said brightly, “but you’ll get cold if you sleep on the floor like that.”

“It’s fine.  We’re not in a cave.”

“But it’s uncomfortable.”

Sehun groaned lightly.  “I’m fine.  I just need to crash for a bit and then I’ll go and find some bed linen.”

He heard Weiyi mumbling crash to herself in an inquisitive tone and hoped that everything was settled, but a few moments later, she was back on the attack.

“You’ll hurt your arm sleeping like that.  The doctor said to look after it.  You should sleep on the bed.”

He cracked an eye open to look at her warily.  “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

“I’ll sleep on the bed too.”

Sehun eyeballed the bed, which was barely wide enough for one person, let alone both of them.

“Weiyi…”  He sighed.  He could feel his face going red, and Weiyi could evidently sense that she could dig down through this to get under his skin.

“We did it in the cave,” she pointed out.  “I don’t see why it’s a problem.”

“I’m trying…” he began.  “Look, Weiyi, I’m trying to be appropriate.”

She tilted her head to one side.  “Why?”

“Because it’s respectful to you.”

If anything, she just looked more confused.  Sehun closed his eyes again wearily.  He didn’t even know how to start explaining, so he just let it drop.  A calm silence descended for a minute or two, and then Weiyi piped up in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, I think it’s stupid to be cold when you could be warm,” she said, and Sehun gave up and let her haul him onto the bed.  With absolutely no inhibitions, she snuggled up to him and draped the duvet over them both before pulling out his injured arm to inspect.  He grimaced with pain as she turned it this way and that, but there wasn’t an awful lot to see as the surgeon had cleaned the wound up and put gauze over it as a temporary measure until he could get himself to a hospital.  After a moment or two, he became aware of the fact that his pulse had picked up and he laughed at himself in resignation.  He was a totally lost cause.

“When the ferry… when the ferry…”  Weiyi gave him his arm back, her forehead scrunching up as she searched for the right word.

“When the ferry docks,” Sehun supplied.

“Yes, that.  What happens after?”

“We get in contact with Lay and then I assume we make our way down to Busan.”

“Am I still going to meet my brother?”

“Yes.  Hopefully.”

“Oh.”  Weiyi pulled the duvet up to her chin.  “Will Luhan be nice to you?” she asked in a small voice.

Sehun chuckled gently.  “He’ll have to be if he wants to see you.”

He could just about make out her expression relaxing, and then she smiled.

“Okay.”  She nudged her head over onto his chest.  “Will Sangchu catch us?”

“Hopefully not.”

“Okay.”  Weiyi shifted again and then closed her eyes, evidently happy that life was now good.  Sehun watched her for a few moments as her head moved gently with the slow rise and fall of his chest, unable t