At first, Heechul doesn’t dare to look up, doesn’t dare to meet anyone else’s eyes in the room. He’d stopped trying to scrub the tears off his face a while ago, too lost in the memories to bother with hiding his pain.

A broken sound escapes past the hand he’s clamped tightly over his mouth, and that’s when Jungsoo seems to reach his limit.

“Heechul, I know this is important to you, but you need to stop...telling the story is killing you.”

“I’m not finished.”

“You’ve done enough. Everyone will understand if━”

“Shut up!” Heechul can’t help it; his control snaps. Fortunately the others in the room still seem more sympathetic than annoyed.

He takes a shaky breath before continuing, “If I stop now, I won’t be able to finish.”

“Hyung…” Kyuhyun starts cautiously, and it sounds so strange coming from his mouth because Kyuhyun never uses honorifics with the others, even being the youngest of the bunch. “Please, you can stop here. I just wanted to know your backstory, not make you cry.”

Heechul almost laughs. “I thought it would have been obvious that you can’t have one without the other.”

He scrubs at his eyes once more even when it won’t help, feeling stretched too thin. “I really do hate you, Cho Kyuhyun,” he says. It’s a useless thing to say: he doesn’t really mean it, no one really buys it, but at the very least it helps Heechul focus.

Why does he want to finish the story so badly? Maybe it’s because he wants to prove a point that he’s stronger than what’s happened to him. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure all the records are set straight. Whatever the case, he’d made up his mind since the first sentence that left his lips; it’s always been too late to stop this story from being told.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he finally says before immediately backpedaling. “Well, not ready. Not really. But here goes nothing.”

Heechul takes one more deep breath, digs his fingers into the fabric of the couch until his knuckles turn white, and begins.

~*~

July 17th, 2018 - The Bunker

Gray.

Heechul only sees gray. The cement walls of the room that hold him in their suffocating embrace, the dust that he only now notices has been gathering in the corners, the utter bleakness of whatever lies ahead.

How long has it been now? Days? Weeks? He’s lost track of the time that he’s lain here, refusing meals and ignoring the other members’ concerned pleas of “Heechul, please talk to us.”

He’s curled up on the center of his bed, staring unblinking at the wall, and the irony is almost funny, in a twisted sort of way: he’s in fetal position, the symbol of rebirth, when he’s in the process of dying inside. The universe does seem to have a sense of humor.

But even as Heechul stares at that wall, he’s not really seeing it. He’s hardly existing in this time at all. No, his mind is still back in that warehouse, still being ripped from Han Geng’s dying embrace over and over again.

“I need to know you’re going to be okay,” he still hears like a whisper in his ear.

Han Geng’s voice had always been comforting, but now it feels like torture. Heechul doesn’t want to forget him, doesn’t want one seemingly insignificant detail to escape his memory, but remembering hurts. Is it supposed to be like this?

“I love you.”

Heechul curls himself into an even tighter ball, feels his heart physically aching inside his chest. That’s the best and worst memory he has, and when he thinks about it, about what went unsaid…

Heechul has always hated the sound of himself crying. Always hated the way his face scrunches up into a pained grimace and his chest heaves out of his control. But he can’t stop the sob that escapes his lips and echoes in the empty room.

There’s knocking at the door. Maybe someone heard him, maybe they’re just perpetually concerned; Heechul is past caring. He claps his hands over his ears, grits his teeth to stop the tears from coming.

And ends up sobbing helplessly into his pillowcase all the same.

~*~

July 21st, 2018

As time passes, Heechul feels numb. He’s still not sure if it’s better or worse than the pain that had been eating him up inside. Yes, he’s stopped crying, tears having run out a while ago, but he can feel himself starting to wither away.

Once, in the dead of night while the others were sleeping, Heechul had left the room to steal bottled water from the kitchen. That basic human impulse had been too strong to ignore. It’s not because of purposeful rationing that the bottles have been lasting him this long; he takes sips only when he feels himself blacking out...and even that’s hard to find the energy for, much less the heart to care.

Rattling at the door brings Heechul back to the present, something he’s learned to ignore by now, only this time it’s different. The sound of someone fiddling with the doorknob continues until there’s a definitive ‘click’ and light comes spilling into the room.

Hyukjae is the one to walk in, and when he does, he freezes. Heechul watches silently as the other man takes in the state of the room: the heap of plastic bottles carelessly piled against the wall, the bucket in the corner that’s giving off a stench even worse than Heechul himself probably is, the skeleton of a person lying on the bed before him.

Heechul hears Hyukjae swear before he darts right back out of the room, calling for Sungmin. The man in question appears in the doorway seconds later, and it almost snaps Heechul out of his trance-like state when he sees Sungmin nearly cry at the state he’s in.

But all the strength has left Heechul’s body. He remains limp and unmoving as Sungmin gathers his frail form into his arms and holds him tightly.

“What have you done?” Sungmin asks him in a whisper. The rest of what he says comes out in an unintelligible stream of concerned words that go in Heechul’s one ear and out the other.

“I’m so sorry,” Sungmin continues when he’s composed himself. “I should have...even if some of the others disagreed with me, I should have checked on you sooner.”

A soft knock at the door cuts off anything else Sungmin might have said, and Heechul can just make out Hyukjae in his peripheral, standing uncertainly at the entrance with food and water in his hands. Sungmin waves him closer, but that’s the most he lets Heechul go. The Strategist is still clutched tightly to his chest as he tells Hyukjae where to set things.

“Will you...need anything else?” Hyukjae asks, unable to look at Heechul directly.

Heechul remembers how he and Hyukjae had started to talk comfortably, even laugh together, after the other man had recovered. What he wouldn't give now for even a taste of that happiness.

Sungmin answers the question with a strained, “We’ll be fine. Could you give us some time alone?” and Hyukjae is thoughtful enough to lock the door when he leaves.

They care about him. How can they, how can Sungmin, when he’d seen how weak Heechul had been in the end. When he’d listened to Heechul insist that they follow their leader’s instructions?

When he’s seen what Heechul has done to himself?

Sungmin has always been stronger than people give him credit for. He takes only another few short moments to collect himself before focusing all his energy on taking care of Heechul in earnest. Heechul blindly follows the other man’s lead as he’s brought to the bathroom to be undressed and finally washed up. Traces of guilt tug somewhere in his gut at how entirely useless he is, even at something as simple as staying on his feet. But Heechul is just...so tired. Even his consciousness fades in and out if he doesn’t concentrate enough.

When Sungmin is finished, he takes Heechul back to his room, now dressed in fresh clothes. He sits Heechul down on fresh bedsheets (How did he manage to do that? Heechul vaguely wonders. Hyukjae, probably), and the Strategist fully expects to be left alone. Yet again, Sungmin surprises him.

“I realize that you want time by yourself,” Sungmin says softly. “Locking your door made that clear enough. But I won’t let you fade away while I stand by and do nothing, you hear me? I’m not losing you, too.”

Sungmin’s voice wavers at the end, and a fresh wave of pain sweeps over Heechul at the other man’s words. He’s been so selfish, doing his best to hurt everyone around him even when he hardly has the heart to fix himself.

A hand takes Heechul’s own unresponsive one, and even in the midst of his thoughts of self-hatred, Heechul hears Sungmin ask him, “Will you let me stay?”

“Listen, Heechul, I know you normally ask for me to leave but...just for tonight, will you let me stay?”

“Fine, you sap. But only because you asked nicely.”

He can’t speak. Grief has rendered him mute. But Heechul still finds himself clinging to Sungmin’s concern like a drowning man at sea. His fingers curl ever-so-slightly around Sungmin’s grip, and he knows the message has gotten across when the other man takes a seat behind him, a grateful smile gracing his features.

Sungmin is too good to him. Measures of time still escape Heechul’s comprehension, but he knows it’s a while that Sungmin sits there, brushing Heechul’s hair and talking about anything and everything. He doesn’t expect a response, and Heechul doesn’t pay attention to every word. It’s not about conversation; it’s about comfort. Heechul’s eyes slowly droop as the repeated motions lull him into the sweet arms of unconsciousness.

Anything is better than this fragile numbness, even feeling nothing at all.

~*~

July 27th, 2018

Over the course of the next week, Sungmin stays true to his word. He visits Heechul twice a day to repeat the same ritual: food, shower, and talk to the other man to keep him sane. Heechul slowly starts to become less of a wisp of a person.

He wonders often, in between flashbacks he can’t control, why it’s Sungmin of all people. He’s never treated the other man badly, but what has he done to earn such loyalty? It’s not until Sungmin says something in passing while taking care of him that a certain memory comes rushing back.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Heechul says with a shake of his head, leaning against Sungmin’s doorframe.

It’s only been hours since the Resistance members had returned from recruiting Yesung ━Jongwoon━ to the cause, and Heechul had ended up here, unable to shake off the memory of Sungmin standing with a gun pressed to his chest.

Sungmin leans back in his chair, giving the other man an unreadable smile. “Am I, now?”

“No sane person would have pulled that stunt you just managed to survive, so I’d say it’s a fair assessment.

“So you disapprove?”

“No, I…” Heechul pauses for a moment, unsure of what he wants to say. “I actually admire you for it. For quite a few things. But it hit me when you were standing there, about to die, that maybe I’ve been too distracted to be a good...friend? Can I even call us friends?”

It’s even more awkward to say it out loud than it is to think it.

Sungmin shrugs, but his smile dims considerably when he says, “There are a lot of members to keep track of. I can’t say I’m surprised that we haven’t spent much time together.”

“This is different. Jungsoo and I see each other all the time ━too much, if you ask me━ and I have to talk to Donghee and Youngwoon when we’re planning missions. Donghae and Hyukjae have each other to fall back on, so I’m never worried. But you...I feel like we’ve dropped you in here without someone to get close to. I don’t want you to think you’re not wanted, that’s all.”

Sungmin is quiet for a long moment before he admits, “I can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind that if it weren’t for the money I brought with me, I wouldn't have a place.”

“Bull,” Heechul tells him firmly. “You’ve earned it just as much as anyone else here. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I could charge into a firefight looking even half as confident as you do.”

“That could just be me compensating for being entirely unprepared,” Sungmin shoots back before lapsing into silence, considering. “So when you’ve been talking about me not being close to anyone...are you saying we should be close?”

Heechul snorts despite himself. “It sounds so contrived when you put it like that. But yeah, I guess I am. Any of the others could probably tell you that I’m not the best to talk to when you have a problem, but━”

“Bull,” Sungmin says in an imitation of the Strategist’s earlier interruption. “I feel better now than I have the last four months thanks to you, and that’s not something to just sweep under the rug. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, Heechul.”

The words had unexpectedly touched Heechul then, and they stick with him now, loud enough to drown out the insecurities that scream inside his head.

You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit.

He’s not sure if he believes it, not exactly, but it’s such a sweet relief to finally have quiet. Heechul’s awareness finally uncurls from the corner of his mind it’s been hiding in to place itself back in reality, back to where Sungmin is still brushing his hair and reminiscing about some pre-apocalypse holiday trip he’d taken.

A rush of gratitude threatens to overwhelm Heechul, surprising even himself, and this time it refuses to stay quiet. He opens his mouth, voice raspy from disuse, and simply says, “Thank you, Sungmin.”

It’s the first time he’s spoken in two weeks, and Sungmin knows it. The other man freezes in his movements before hugging Heechul tightly, arms wrapping around him from behind.

For once, Sungmin is the one with no words.

~*~

July 28th, 2018

With that, the spell over Heechul is broken.

When he wakes up the next morning, he doesn’t feel numb; he feels driven ━ and angry. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, wobbling a bit on unsteady feet before regaining control of himself. In another time, Heechul would be horrified at his disheveled appearance, but he has more pressing things on his mind.

Before he can second-guess himself, he strides out the door, down the hallway, and through the main room, head held high. Other members are gathered there, and he thinks it’s Ryeowook’s voice that asks incredulously, “Heechul?” But none of them are the person Heechul is looking for, so he pays them no mind; he knows exactly where his target will be.

It’s with one focused purpose that he stalks up the stairs at the back of the room and storms into Jungsoo’s office, slamming the door behind him so forcefully that it nearly cracks the casing.

“Jungsoo, you bastard,” he says angrily, and the Resistance leader all but jumps out of his desk chair.

The toll that recent events have taken on the man in question is clear; clear in the dark circles carved under his eyes, in the haunted look on his face. Heechul sees it, but he’s not here for sympathy. It’s time to pay back the Resistance leader what he’s earned.

Heechul marches right up to Jungsoo and takes a direct swing at his face.

He’ll give credit where credit is due: the other man is fast. The surprise on his face lasts for less than a second before he catches Heechul’s wrist in a firm grip.

“Heechul━” Jungsoo starts, but Heechul isn’t finished. As pitiful as his attacks are after what he put his body through, he wrenches his hand free and swings at Jungsoo again and again.

“This is all your fault!” He yells at the Resistance leader, wrist caught yet again. “If you hadn’t ing told us to hold position, they wouldn’t be ing dead!”

And maybe it’s because Jungsoo doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even try to defend himself from the accusations, that the last of Heechul’s strength abandons him. He goes limp in Jungsoo’s pacifying hold, grief threatening to return him to the sobbing mess he was a week ago.

“He’s gone, Jungsoo,” Heechul says quietly. “He’s gone.”

He doesn’t want to give the Resistance leader a black eye now as much as he’d like to run to the nearest dark corner and hide from this reality. Cautiously, he meets the other man’s eyes, not sure what kind of reaction he expects. What he finds, however, is that Jungsoo is avoiding his gaze entirely. He’s crying, letting go of Heechul’s wrists to scrub futilely at his eyes when he realizes the other man has seen.

“I’m sorry,” Jungsoo tells him brokenly. “It was my fault. If I had just listened to what you...I’m so sorry.”

“For all the good that will do,” Heechul snaps back, and Jungsoo puts his head in his hands.

Heechul knows, rationally, that the Mayor and his puppets in the Capital are who he should be angry at ━ the monsters who were the real reason that Han Geng and Kibum were gone. But he’s far from being in a state of rational thinking, even when he feels guilt settle in his stomach for making Jungsoo cry.

“I’m going to get some more sleep,” he finally says, turning around so he doesn’t have to see the other man break down.

When he leaves, Jungsoo doesn’t say a word.

The members who were in the main room are gathered at the base of the stairs. Heechul pushes past them with a muttered “I’m fine,” and walks with renewed purpose to the room he’s looking for ━ not his own.

Sungmin is understandably surprised when Heechul barges into his room and locks the door behind him. If Sungmin says anything, Heechul knows he won’t be able to go through with this, so he doesn’t let that happen.

“Can I ask for a favor?” he asks the other man, and doesn’t wait more than a second after the “Anything” he gets in return to move closer, fiddling unsuccessfully with the ties on the sweatpants Sungmin had dressed him in.

“In that case, maybe this won’t be so hard to ask,” Heechul says without looking at the other man, still focused on these stupid ties that won’t seem to come undone no matter how much his shaking hands try.

Why the hell won’t━?

“Heechul, stop,” Sungmin tells him, the look on his face the most concerned Heechul has seen him since he first saw the extent of Heechul’s self-destruction. “What are you doing?”

“I tried to make things better,” Heechul says, tone verging on desperate. “Now I feel like again, and more than anything I need a distraction. It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond you helping me out; things don’t even have to go far━” He nearly chokes on the words, he’s talking so fast. “Please, Sungmin, you’re the only one I can trust to ask this.”

Sungmin just gapes at him for a long moment, processing exactly what he’s is getting at. Heechul takes the opportunity to start slipping off the shirt he’s wearing, unsure now but still with his mind made up, until hands cover his own and halt his progress.

“Calm down, take a deep breath,” Sungmin says to him. He’s more collected now, seeming to be back in his element. If looking after Heechul’s mental state was an Olympic title, Sungmin would have locked up gold ages ago. “I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re a trainwreck on two legs, okay? This is not what you need.”

“Please━” Heechul starts in one last pitiful attempt to change his mind, but the other man cuts him off like he hadn’t even heard.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he says firmly. “I’m going to take a trip to the nearest Cluster and get some things together. Then we’re going to put my expertise to good use dying your hair something really loud ━ magenta, maybe? A new look for a fresh start. And no matter how long it takes, I’m going to make sure you’ll be okay.”

Heechul is torn between blurting out something incredibly sentimental or just an incredulous “magenta??”, so he ends up not saying anything. But Sungmin isn’t finished yet.

“You can wait right here in my room while I’m gone,” he continues, voice gentle even when the words are clearly an order. “Hyukjae will stay with you until I get back, since I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“Hyukjae?” Heechul can’t help the disbelief that’s packed into that single world.

“You can trust him; I promise. Looking after Donghae for twenty-some years gave him a protective streak that right now is focused on you. And he’s already given me his word to keep anything related to you to himself.”

“He’s been your right-hand man in worrying about me this whole time, huh?”

“You could say that.”

At the very least, Sungmin’s decisiveness has let Heechul start thinking clearly again. He’s still a convoluted mess of anger and hurt, but he’s taken a step back from that ledge of total hysteria.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Heechul says in a mumble, shame not allowing him to fully express his gratitude.

Sungmin hugs him tightly anyway.