good luck, friends

-

Jongdae's steps were heavy as he jogged around the cabin, listening to the sound of his own voice calling out a familiar name.

He was answered by his own echoes against the cabin walls, but nothing more, and with the passing of minutes, the emptiness of each room was starting to get to his head.

Now, he did know Minseok couldn't call back to him. The robot still hadn't been able to find his voice, and that was nobody's fault. Not to mention that in the time he'd been living there, Minseok had proved himself to be quite a wanderer, so it's not like Jongdae would usually make a big deal out of this. It wasn't even abnormal, really.

But that was just what bothered him. The past week had been abnormal. Minseok's behavior had scared the living daylights out of him more than once, all in just the past couple of days.

That being said, maybe there was good cause to worry for once.

"Minseok!" he tried one more time, raising his voice even louder as he looked around the room and out the window again.

And with hands that nervously scratched away at his collarbones, he waited. And waited, and waited.

There were birds fighting outside, and an uneasy wind blew, causing the walls to speak to each other in groans and creaks. It was the opposite of silence, but it felt just as unsettling.

His lips rubbed subconsciously together as he tried to gather his thoughts. His luck wasn't often kind to him, but he held a sliver of hope that maybe Minseok had found another injured animal like Lu, and was only trying to help.

Okay, relax, he told himself, suddenly noticing that his collarbones stung from his nails raking against them. With a sigh, he dropped his hands to his sides and gave them a time-out in his pockets. Everything is probably fine, and freaking out is only going to make it all worse. Just be calm and think.

Think.

Coherent thought was hard to achieve, but Jongdae was not a quitter when it came to the things he loved.

Flipping through the short list of memories from the day so far, he immediately recalled - with a slight worsening of his mood - that the last time he'd seen Minseok was this morning.

This morning, in which the knife in his gut was twisted around a bit.

It had been about ten, he remembered. He was only getting himself a drink from the kitchen to make his burning questions seem casual when he asked them. Obligatory, even.

"So, do you remember anything more since yesterday?" he'd asked as he filled his glass with water. "Or maybe your voice has starting working again?"

His voice didn't make him sound like he was expecting much. And it was a good thing he wasn't, because his only answer was Minseok's completely blank face as he shook his head.

It still , though. It , as much as - if not more than - that time he'd told Minseok he was leaving just to make him cry. At least it seemed like the robot cared then.

Ten o'clock passed them by, and Jongdae really hated this feeling. After downing his pointless glass of water, he succumbed to what was definitely desperation, and began to try anything he thought might help Minseok remember.

He'd tried holding his hand, taking him to the edge of the creek where they'd sat together in silence. He'd talked about that time Minseok had bravely saved them from a huge bear. Then, when they caught fish together - carefully, so Minseok didn't get wet and risk malfunction.

He'd reintroduced him to Lu and described how the robot had found the bird injured outside of the cabin, bandaging him up so he could heal. He even brought up Chanyeol, and how Minseok had rescued Jongdae from being beaten senseless. No matter how hard he tried, nothing brought that sense of familiarity back to Minseok's face when their eyes met.

And now, hours later, he just couldn't find him anywhere.

Nope. 'Everything was probably fine' his . Now wasn't a good time to panic, but he wasn't about to brush this off like it was nothing, either. 

It was officially time to start looking elsewhere, and that meant it was time to leave the cabin. Jongdae had searched it high and low and found nothing, so either Minseok had taken to hiding from him, or he was out there somewhere, roaming the forest.

Jongdae almost wished it was the former.

Without even grabbing his jacket, he rushed outside, resigning himself to helplessly calling Minseok's name again. It was cold, like it always was these days, but he was distracted by the hollow way his calls echoed through the trees. It was not comforting, to say the least, and it definitely didn't help that the birds were restless, and the sky hung over his head like a hungry tiger.

As he walked through the dead leaves alone, he did his best to ignore how uneasy it all made him feel. In pretty much all the cartoons he'd ever seen, bad things would happen on days that looked like this one. Cloudy and windy and disturbed. Jongdae could feel the atmosphere getting to his head before he even knew it.

No worries, though. This was okay. None of it really bothered him. Not even the fact that this forest was huge, and the odds of him running into Minseok by a of dumb luck weren't promising. With every step, he did his best to restore his confidence, crunching leaves under his shoes.

Minseok was out here. He was sure of it.

And yet, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. It coaxed together his two eyebrows, and made his lips bunch up like he had a sour taste in his mouth. This feeling was always so annoying to him - having something important on the tip of your tongue but not being able to reach it.

Through the tunnels of his brain he went, the mental journey almost making him forget about the journey he was making on foot.

Almost making him overlook the answer he'd been searching for the whole time.

He walked and walked and looked all around him, yet was completely blind to it for minutes. It stared him right in the face as he marched on - a seemingly harmless beast hiding in place sight. He must have walked a half a mile before finally, finally noticing the sensation on his face and in his hair that was more important - and more terrifying - than anything.

His heart sank into his stomach, and his face went pale.

It was raining.

Like a crack of thunder, something in his chest snapped as he felt the beads roll down his face.

It's raining.

"Minseok!" he cried out in sudden alarm, beginning to frantically sweep his eyes around as both his heartbeat and his feet jolted into action.

This can't be happening.

"Minseok!" he called again, fear threatening to break his words as he cupped his hands around his mouth. All he needed was a sign. The blue light on his chest, a silhouette, anything. "Come here, now!"

He could barely squeeze the volume out of his voice as his head pounded, and he covered his face with his hands. The feeling of the water drenching his hair was the feeling of pure fear. It nearly threatened to take his consciousness. No, no, no...

Running without knowing where to go, he tried his best not to lose his mind, because that was what he needed the most in that moment. He had to think. Just think.

Think.

The noises all around him made it very hard to do that. It was like feedback, cutting off the noise that really mattered.

His brain could barely even keep up with his feet racing through the leaves, and at that rate, he couldn't remember the places he'd been and the places he had yet to go.

Ocean waves of panic washed over him as precious minutes fell through his fingers, and the way they rose and crashed over his head made him dizzy. Loss' shadow stood tall over him, smacking him across his cheek over and over. No matter how long and hard he ran, he couldn't escape it.

Still, the rain fell. It fell harder and harder, hitting the trees and his head and mind until all he wanted to do was sit down and cry.

And then, of course. Just when Jongdae's eyes were crumpled and pained and he was so sure it was all over, there he was.

Laying there in the wet leaves maybe twenty feet away, limp and drenched through his clothes.

Jongdae had never run so fast in his life. His heart screamed in relief, yet his mind screamed in another rush of panic because if Minseok wasn't yet broken forever, he would be soon.

Seeing him like that was awful. The burning in Jongdae's lungs came from his exhaustion, but also the sight of Minseok reduced to this pile of useless metal bones. His eyes were shut, but he was not asleep. His little blue light flickered, struggling to glow.

But Jongdae knew he couldn't spare the time to think as he scooped him up from the ground, taking off before even bothering to catch his breath.

There was only time to run, so that's what he did.

It hurt. That was inevitable, but he embraced the pain because his own legs and heart and body didn't matter. Nothing mattered to him except getting home. He just had to get home.

He ran, ran though everything ached, ran though the rain clouded his vision, clutching Minseok to his chest. He ran like it was his own life in danger.

Okay, okay, this looks familiar...

Trees passed him in a blur of colorless darkness, and he had to quickly dodge them as he sprinted. The weight of Minseok limp in his arms was the heaviest weight he'd ever had to carry. That twisting pain was ever-present in his chest, mingling with the cold feeling of Minseok laying motionless against him.

But he could've sworn he'd seen the creek. He swore he'd seen it. They had to be close now, so close. Almost close enough to touch the cabin walls with his desperate fingertips, like it was right in front of him and he just hadn't seen it.

But maybe he'd only been hallucinating. Trying to comfort himself so he didn't lose his head. 

Because things started to look unfamiliar as he pushed forward, and panic rose even higher in his throat as the trees bent over him like predators.

Had he gone the wrong way?

Jongdae's feet began to slow down, and his eyes darted all around him. No, no. This couldn't happen right then. It just couldn't.

It couldn't.

And it turned out it was a good thing he never completely stopped, because he finally had a prayer answered. His heart jumped up into his throat when he got his sign.

Yes. There was that cliffside he'd ran to the edge of months ago. His eyes now reached the cabin, the silhouette with the few shingles flapping in the violent wind. And that was all that mattered to him.

Like a wounded animal running from its attacker, he did his best to sprint towards it, holding even tighter to Minseok than before. Twenty feet turned into ten feet, then five, and then, just like that, he was there, tearing the door open like a madman.

His heart pounded harder on his chest like it was a prisoner. , , ...

Without even bothering to shut the door, he dropped Minseok on the couch, ripping the robot's wet clothes off and taking the briefest second to actually breathe like a human being was supposed to. He was definitely going to pass out if he didn't, and he wasn't any good to Minseok unconscious.

One deep breath. His hands clutched the couch cushions, and he screwed his eyes shut. Two deep breaths. Three. Four.

Okay. Get up.

Jongdae's heart still protested as he rose to his feet again, but he didn't care. This whole situation was a mess. He was a mess, but that wasn't going to stop him from tearing off to his bedroom and emptying his dresser drawers to the bottom.

There was only a tiny sliver of vision through the pile of clothes in his arms when he left, but that was good. It meant he'd grabbed enough. "Okay, okay," he whispered hurriedly to himself as he raced down the stairs. Through his thin sliver of sight, he watched Minseok laying there on the couch, motionless and soaked with the rain.

This was his fault, and he had to fix it. Now.

Beads of water rolling off of Minseok's chest were dried with the bunches of clothes in Jongdae's hands, and he prayed this was enough. If his everything wasn't enough, then there would be nothing left to give, and Minseok would just be gone.

What would he do if Minseok was gone?

Jongdae bit his lip. No. He couldn't think about that. It would be his undoing.

And so he kept going, never once giving himself a break because he was going to fix this. The glistening was disappearing from Minseok's skin, but Jongdae allowed no time for patting himself on the back. Minseok's eyes were still shut, and until he opened them again, he wouldn't let himself think he'd achieved anything.

Clothes piled up on the floor. Jongdae was so taxed, and this desperation was only making it worse. He whispered comforting words to himself as he worked, trying to convince himself that this wasn't the end. There was still a chance.

So don't you dare give up.

The hours were ticking away. Jongdae made sure that every singular drop of water had been cleared away before he even once opened up Minseok's chest. He wasn't going to risk anything.

With scrutinizing, determined eyes he searched through every device, every little piece of him beneath his skin, but couldn't find a thing that seemed like it wasn't in working order.

His heart thumped. Was this a gesture of mercy from who knows where, or was he just getting his hopes up?

Is there really a chance for me?

For both of us?

Only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, he extended his finger gingerly. The blue button waited, just like always.

Just press it. Press it so this horrible feeling can be over.

Jongdae gathered his courage, shut his eyes, and pressed the blue button.

Blackness. Pitch blackness. Of course, he did have his eyes closed.

But there was also silence. And a lot of it, despite the pattering of the rain on the roof and walls. It was a new kind of silence, and it made his stomach feel queasy.

One at a time, Jongdae opened his eyes, only to find Minseok, still limp on the cushions.

It made him nervous. There was still something wrong. What could that be?

He had to find it, and quickly, because he was losing Minseok. He could feel that again, and it was as frightening as it was painful.

The push of a red button popped open Minseok's chest once more. Nothing had changed since Jongdae last checked it except his level of panic.

Once more he examined every part, anything and everything he could find. His hope was starting to fray.

. There really is nothing wrong in here.

Another shut and another press of the blue button, but no response. Just a dead robot with hidden blue eyes. Jongdae's heart only beat faster every time.

Again and again he searched inside of Minseok's chest, trying to find the one thing he possibly could have missed, but there was just not anything there for him to do. Every piece was in tact, where it had always been. Where it had to be.

He was starting to feel dizzy. The room was turning him around like a carousel, but he ignored the feeling as best he could. Faith in himself was all he had left, even though there was so little of it.

One last desperate time, he shut Minseok's chest, and pressed the little blue button. For almost a minute, he stood there, watching. Waiting.

But the little blue light had gone out.

Minseok was gone.

The blood began to drain from his face as he stared at his motionless body, as he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He was shaking, and he couldn't stop.

Minseok was gone.

His hands gripped to every part of him as if that might bring him back, and he didn't even know he was crying until hot tears started sliding down his face and into Minseok's hair. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

The tears soaked his hair right through, and Jongdae sniffled, face blood red again. The thunder rumbled outside as he wept, rocking back and forth for comfort. The pain wasn't going to fade as long as he stayed this way, but it didn't mean anything. It didn't-

"I don't understand what you're doing right now, Jongdae. Your tears are going to make it worse."

His breath caught in his throat, heartbeat screeching to a halt.

Minseok.

"Honestly. You make a mess of our living room drying me off, then you cry into my hair. That seems a bit counterproductive, don't you think?"

Jongdae backed away from the tight hug he held Minseok in, a little afraid of what he might see.

Just the sound of Minseok's voice had stopped his tears in their tracks. And still, the sight of him was enough to bring them right back.

The weak robot had a hard time sitting up, and his blue stare flickered on and off, like the thunderstorm had been trapped in his eyes. The little blue thunderstorm was also in the button on his chest, struggling to stay alive.

Jongdae in a breath, wiping his tears away from his cheeks as he sniffled. "Minseok," he said, voice small as he sat in a pool of shock and relief.

"That is my name, yes," the robot agreed, nodding his head as if he didn't just have a near-death experience.

Jongdae couldn't help but laugh. It was a stuffy laugh, his crying making it very nasally and difficult. But he sounded no less happy. "You're okay," he said, eyes shining.

Minseok's own eyes flickered one last time, then trapped their color inside. "I can thank you for that," he pointed out respectfully, nodding towards the pile of clothes on the living room floor.

Jongdae glanced at it, but still laughed breathlessly. "Are you kidding me?" he chuckled, grinning. "I can thank you for that. You're a hell of a strong robot."

A seemingly pensive Minseok took a few moments to ponder that compliment, staring off into the kitchen, but looking at nothing in particular. Jongdae took the opportunity to grab a shirt from the floor and began to dry his wet orange hair.

Minseok sat still as the shaken but relieved man above him took every trace of water away, willing to sacrifice whatever time it took. It summed up exactly what Minseok was thinking to himself, and he was never one to keep secrets. 

"Perhaps you give me too much credit, Jongdae," the robot remarked, shutting his blue eyes. "Ever stop to think who helped make me that way?"

-

s o

that was a thing