[title song: lonely by sistar (this made me cry yall)]
[8k]

six.

Kim Donghyuk eyes her strangely, his dimples disappearing along with his smile, “You okay?” He asks and the worried expression flitting across his face only makes Jessica feel worse somehow, which is ridiculous but, then again, she already feels like absolute so anything could make it worse.

Jessica blinks, drowsy from the fact that she has no cup of coffee to keep her awake, no Sehun scrutinizing Donghyuk while he stumbles over his words until she tells Sehun to stop bothering him. No Sehun (and by extension, no Jongin). Isn’t that what she wanted?

She nods, immediately ignoring her own thoughts as she focuses her attention on Donghyuk, “Yeah, I’m fine.” She says, shrugging as she tries for a smile she’s sure looks more like a grimace.

Donghyuk raises a brow and actually directs an expression at her that doesn’t resemble the heart eyes emoji to a tee, like it usually is. He looks disbelieving, uncharacteristically skeptic, and the worried look disappears for just a moment. “Okay.” He drags out the word, nodding before he frowns. “Anyway, I’ll see you later, Jessica. I’ll meet you after your classes are over at the front door, ‘kay?”

Jessica blinks, “What? Why?”

Donghyuk pouts and that only makes her eyes narrow further, “Weren’t you paying attention earlier? I asked if you wanted to check out the new tea place with me and you agreed.” Donghyuk blinks, owlishly, “Or you kinda just made a noise and I assumed that meant yeah so I asked if that was a promise and you said sure whatever. I’m totally holding you to it.”

“Um…” Jessica stares at him and genuinely wonders if she’s become so dependent on Sehun’s coffee that she’s zoned out of everything Donghyuk’s been saying to her for the past fifteen minutes. She’s heard of the new tea place, though; Sehun had wanted her to check it out with him a while back. That thought alone only makes her scowl so she pushes it back, burrowing it away at the back of her head.

“You have to come. You promised.” Donghyuk’s pouts this time, really pouts, and Jessica can feel her resolve crumble instantly. Along with a headache.

“Ok, yeah, fine.” Jessica grumbles.

“See you at five!” Donghyuk’s grin is dazzling, practically blinding. Jessica just tries for a smile while Donghyuk bounds off.

~.~.~.~.~

Jessica watches Sooyong play with her food while Baekhyun eats whatever she’s not eating, Sooyong smiling softly up at him whenever she glances away from her textbook, and Jessica’s heart twists a bit, an angry sort of twist that makes her see green for just a moment, much to her annoyance. She shouldn’t feel this way when she sees one of her best friends happy.

(And yet—here she is.)

She doesn’t expect it, the moment Baekhyun locks eyes with her, and Jessica frowns because Baekhyun is raising a brow at her, an inquisitive look clouding over his eyes, and when she smiles, it doesn’t get better. Instead, he frowns, too, his lips quirking downwards, a frown that looks completely out of place on his face.

Jessica looks away, glances sideways just as Sehun makes his way towards their table. They lock eyes, too, and God does Jessica hate ing eye contact. Jessica feels it again, that goddamn guilt from before, and it’s almost debilitating in its sudden intensity because it feels like her heart is trying to leap right out of her chest. Jessica averts her gaze, keeps it focused on her right, where Chanyeol is halfway through a heated rant on why everyone should always carry a lighter on them and something about birthday candles, and she hates how she can see Baekhyun glancing at her through her peripheral vision. She’s always thought of him as an extension to Sooyong and it only makes her more anxious than before that he’s noticing her moment of weakness when not even Sooyong has. This only means that he’ll probably tell Sooyong about it and that only makes her anxiety worse.

The conversation shifts to something about cheesecakes and Jessica starts to tune out, focusing solely on her food, not focusing on the fact that both Jongin and Sehun take a seat beside Chanyeol across the table, instead of beside her. This is what she wanted, wasn’t it?

~.~.~.~.~

She’s standing on the steps leading up to SM University with her phone in her hands and she hates the way she keeps glancing down at, keeps staring at the lack of new messages aside from the single message from Zelo that’s been burning through her mind all day. There’s a soft honk from behind her and she instinctively spins on her heels, a small part of her seizing up in what she can only call hope, but all she’s met with is Donghyuk’s bright grin, almost too wide in the way it tugs at his cheeks, his black car small but sleek looking. Jessica doesn’t know much about cars but she can tell that this one is an expensive brand and she’s never really thought about whether Donghyuk was financially secure or not. For some reason, she thinks the car looks too expensive for a college freshman like him, but then she shakes that thought away because she knows she shouldn’t make assumptions like that in the first place.

Donghyuk waves at her with both his hands, still seated in the driver’s seat, window rolled down, and Jessica takes one last look at the blank screen of her phone before she sighs and steps into Donghyuk’s car. Donghyuk’s grin doesn’t falter as he asks her about her day and she tries to force herself to relax and pay attention.

~.~.~.~.~

Donghyuk taps on the steering wheel impatiently, tap tap tap tap tap tap, the rhythm erratic and unsteady, constant and harsh.

Jessica blinks at Donghyuk’s fingers, watches the slow movement, up and down up and down, until she’s finally able to pinpoint exactly why the sound, the rapid movement of his fingers, the slight tension in Donghyuk’s shoulders that make him sit straight up in the driver’s seat, the shifty eye movements, are making a strange sort of anxiety churn at the pit of her stomach and coiling and uncoiling there.

Anxiety and impatience rolls off Donghyuk in waves and, in turn, it makes her just as anxious. She has never, not once, seen Donghyuk like this, hell, she never even thought he could be like this.

“Are you okay?” She asks, frowning, and Donghyuk smiles, truly beams at her.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just gotta pee.” Donghyuk tells her, laughing lightly. His laugh doesn’t sound quite right.

But she doesn’t get the chance to figure Donghyuk out because then her phone buzzes in her lap, vibrating loudly, and she notices Donghyuk glancing sideways at her, his eyes flickering to her phone. She glances down at the lit screen, frowning at the way her heart skips a beat when she sees that it’s a text from Sehun. Guilt trickles down her spine and she stares at her phone for a long, long time because she didn’t think Sehun was going to pick her up from classes today since they haven’t spoken a word to each other since she ran out on Jongin the other day, especially since Sehun hadn’t even shown up for their morning class. She didn’t think he—either of them—would be contacting her anytime soon (maybe even ever).

Where are you?

That’s all it says and she makes a move to type out a response, but then she pauses, frowns, because she thinks why. Why does she have to check in with him? Why does it suddenly matter to him where she is?

Maybe it’s vindictive, the way anger surges through her, directed at Sehun, at herself, at Jongin, or maybe it’s just incredibly pathetic of her. Jongin’s voice, Jongin’s I can’t echoes in her head, loud and clear and ringing and the anger only gets worse, it rears its ugly head and it becomes something else, a monster of its own, mixed in with frustration and—and pity, she knows, self-pity because she had said she wanted Jongin to let her go, yet here she is, unable to let them go (them because they are a package deal, she’d known since the beginning), unable to stop thinking about them, unable to keep herself from texting them updates about where the she is.

It only makes her angrier, more vindictive, and that’s when she finds herself switching her phone to silent and stuffing her phone deep in her pockets, ignoring the heaviness in her chest because it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter to her.

She doesn’t want it to matter to her.

She glances out the window, watches buildings zip by as Donghyuk’s music plays softly in the silence between them, and it takes her a full five minutes to realize that it’s silent. That Donghyuk is never the type to leave them in long silences. That the strip of restaurants in SM Town is long behind them and they’re headed further downtown then she had expected.

Tap, tap, tap.

Her eyes widen and she glances sideways at Donghyuk, glancing at the faint smile on his lips. She frowns, “Where are you going? The new tea shop is back there.”

Donghyuk frowns and it looks out of place on his face, “How do you know that?”

She’s surprised for a moment, caught off guard by his expression, “I was going to visit it once when it first opened with Sehun.” She speaks slowly, carefully, and red flags are going off in her head though she can’t figure out how or why. “What’s wrong with you?”

(There is no tapping now.)

He turns a corner, doesn’t answer, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white. There’s no light in his eyes, no smile on his lips, and she thinks it’s a terrible sight to behold, that she’s gotten so used to happy Donghyuk that this is just a strange sight, almost wrong.

She opens to say something else, question him further, because he just looks so anxious and it breaks her heart, but then they pass by a familiar looking park and the words get stuck in . She recognizes the beautiful little park situated within the core of their rotten city, a calm, blue-black pond sparkling softly in the evening sun, a sight to behold in a city like theirs. Her eyes drift past the pond—Rabbit Pond, it’s called—and towards the street signs, 28^th Street etched across the sign in large white blocks, and she her chest tightens at the memory of the last time she had been here. She turns in her seat to look, tattered yellow police tape surrounding the ashes of the building she had been in so long ago, a testament to Chanyeol’s handiwork. This is where she had seen the dead body up close, where B.A.P and Yongguk’s false trail had sent them, what feels like lifetimes ago.

Donghyuk drives past the building and she swivels in her seat to stare at it, stare at the ghost of events she really, truly does not want to remember right now, before she finally stares over her shoulder at him as she slowly faces forward. Donghyuk doesn’t let her say a word, just murmurs, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.” She belatedly realizes that he’s answering her question from earlier, just as her expression pinches up in confusion.

“Why are we—” She cuts herself off when Donghyuk takes a right turn, just as they pass the decimated building, into a road that curves off at the end into a hidden garage, the entrance dark, foreboding. “Donghyuk.” She says, her tone firm, questioning, lilting up in confusion because he isn’t stopping nor looking at her despite the fact that she’s spoken to him and she feels goosebumps springing up and along her skin, down her spine. Anxiety churns at the bottom of her stomach and her heart twists in her chest and all she can think is, this can’t be right. “Hyuk.” She murmurs again, her voice softer, and she hates that she sounds scared, vulnerable, she ing hates it.

This time Donghyuk looks at her, just as he drives into the garage, the dim lights of the warehouse casting shadows down his face, hiding his eyes and the smile Jessica’s always enjoyed seeing in the mornings, despite the fact that she would never admit it out loud. He just looks stoic now, a caricature of the positivity she’s always known him as.

She shouldn’t even be surprised when he rolls to a full stop inside the dimly lit warehouse and suddenly they’re hit with blinding, white lights, burning in its intensity. She shouldn’t even be surprised, when she blinks black and white spots out of her eyes and there are darkly dressed figures surrounding the cars, guns aimed at them. She shouldn’t even be surprised when she looks straight ahead and Zelo is standing there, a languid smile dripping from his lips, his hood covering his hair and his eyes glinting in the bright warehouse. She shouldn’t be surprised, but she is. Her eyes widen as she stares at Zelo and she’s frozen in her spot, hands gripping the edges of the car seat, her thoughts reeling as she tries to make sense of them. The engine to the car is still running, a gentle rumble that seems to overtake the silence all around them.

And then Zelo says, voice echoing, though mumbled by the closed car doors, “I think I have an offer you can’t refuse now.”

His voice snaps her out of her thoughts, makes her head whip to the side, her gaze landing on Donghyuk. His grip on the steering wheel is so, so tight, his gaze fixed straight ahead, on Zelo and his men.

(A part of her wants to lash out, wants to punch him in the face, but this is Donghyuk and she’s grown so utterly fond of him that she can’t do that. Her grip on the car seat just grows tighter, her shoulders tensing up even more.)

Then Donghyuk murmurs, “It’ll be easier if you just listen to him.”

She can feel her heart crawling up , because betrayal never feels good, especially not when it’s from the first person, first friend, Jessica’s been able to make after everything that’s happened. Especially when she’s started to grow fond of him, consider him a friend she’d miss at times, because his positivity has always been so warm and so inviting. She can feel the anger prickle at her skin, coursing up her veins, and she can’t help it when she grits her teeth, especially because not only does Donghyuk have the guts to pull like this but he won’t even look at her while doing it. She thinks she deserves that much at least.

“Easier for me or you?” She asks, bites out really, and Donghyuk flinches as if she’s just slapped him, his eyes closing and his grip tightening on the steering wheel. She grits her teeth at his lack of response, her blood boiling, and shoves the door open, slamming it shut behind her with a deafening bang that has Zelo’s men pointing their guns at her warily, instantly on edge. Zelo just smiles.

She doesn’t care about the guns, the loaded barrels staring down at her, instead she stomps towards him, her footsteps echoing in the warehouse, until she’s an arm’s length away, until one of Zelo’s henchman blocks her path, towers over her, and places a gun centimeters from her head in warning. But still, she doesn’t care, the skin of her forehead pressed up against the cold, cold barrel of the gun. She doesn’t care, her angry gaze focused on Zelo as she glances over his henchman’s shoulder, past the gun, and grits out a livid, “You can take your damn offers and shove it up your a—”

“Next time, our sniper won’t miss.”

She clamps shut at that, swallowing her angry words mid-sentence, suddenly bombarded by the image of Minhee’s face after they had arrived at the hospital, another image of the totaled car, the dead driver, and the way Sooyong had wrung her hands and Mina had chewed at her lips and Minhee had reassured them, with a bandage wrapped around her head, that she was fine when she was clearly not. She takes a deep breath, hoping it’ll calm her anger; keep her from saying or doing something stupid. It doesn’t. “I’m not going to give in to your ty threats.” Jessica looks Zelo right in the eyes over his henchman’s shoulder, watches the way he stares right back, gaze hard and cynical; amused.

“Really?” Zelo asks, and his tone is irritating in its disbelief. He sounds like he’s humoring her, and, maybe, just maybe she should have known that that was exactly what he was doing especially when he’s hiding behind his henchman and dozens of other guns. She had curled her fingers into tight fists, the cold gun pressed so tightly against her forehead that it almost hurt, her shoulder brushing against the henchman’s, making him elbow her between the ribs to keep her back. She should have known when he says, “Not even when that’ll mean you’ll have to go home to two dead boys.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Shut up.”

“Of course, I’m sure you’ve figured out that I have bigger plans for your friends. They won’t die just yet. A broken bone or two won’t hurt, really. But what about those boys of yours? What about the rest of Exo? I don’t need them, Jessica. What will you do when I kill them?”

He holds her gaze for a long minute, the tension growing in the silence. And then—and then she takes a step back, the gun falling from her forehead, her fingers balled up into fists. She falls back, concedes. His words, though, trigger a feeling deep in her chest, an angry, twisted feeling almost akin to the time she woke up in Baekhyun’s basement to her friends staring down at her in concern, only to have the blanket of security and relief yanked out from under her the moment the door had opened and Luhan had appeared. She feels dread, prickling and cold, creeping up her spine and nestling into her thoughts in the form of irrational thoughts. She takes a deep, deep breath before the numbness that always accompanies memories of that trickles in, her eyes flickering between Zelo’s eyes with pointed focus. She thinks, for a moment, she sees an inkling of desperation there. For what, she has no idea, but she doesn’t think she’s imagining it.

“Junhong.” She says, and his eyes widen the tiniest fraction of an inch. Her stomach churns and her palms hurt because of how hard she’s digging her nails into them in order to keep her voice soft, reasonable, when all she wants to do is scream. “What if all this isn’t worth it?”

She looks around with a pointed gaze and his eyes just narrow. “It is worth it.”

“You don’t have to do this.” She says, and she swears she sees something flash in his eyes, something doubtful, “You know you don’t.” She blinks rapidly and breathes out, “You can stop right here.”

“I’ve already told you that I can’t.” She doesn’t understand the moment of desperation in his eyes, doesn’t understand the twist of his lips, until he continues, “Now, I’ll give you another chance to accept my offer before I make you regret it. I would rather you say yes now then have to wait for you to crawl back to me, begging for another chance at my offer.”

She stares at him for a long, long time, long enough for her to see a twinkle of hope in his piercing eyes. She wants to ask why, wants to know why he’s doing this, but she thinks a large part of her doesn’t want to know because she’s terrified of what his answer could possibly be.

Then she shakes her head and speaks slowly, enunciating each syllable clearly, “I’d rather die.”

(And she would, she would.)

“Unfortunately, that can’t happen just yet.” Zelo says. “But you’ll change your mind soon enough. I’ll warn you, though, it won’t be so easy getting into my good graces after this. I like begging and groveling.”

And then his henchman, the one with the gun in front of her, moves too fast for her to notice until it’s too late, until she sees the of a gun flash before her eyes, until there’s stinging pain at the back of her head, and her vision grows spotty. Her knees buckle and the last thing she sees is the ground rushing towards her.

~.~.~.~.~

She opens her eyes to a dark room, utterly disoriented. The panic that bubbles up in her chest has her shooting up, fingers grasping for a weapon, anything really, to use, relief flooding her veins when she realizes she isn’t tied up, her wrists are bleeding from tugging at restraints, she isn’t in an unfamiliar dark room in the middle of a warehouse in downtown SM Town and—

She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, her fingers numb. She feels strange, like she’s floating outside of her body, and she takes a moment to close her eyes, focusing on her steady breathing as best as she can. It helps a little, steadies her racing heart just enough to help the panic subside, though she still feels strange, like she’s floating in ways she doesn’t think is entirely okay.

She’s hyperaware that she’s in her dorm room (the relief is almost staggering in its weight) and she wonders if everything that happened was just a dream.

She blindly reaches for her phone, her movements slow and uncoordinated. She squints at the bright screen nearly blinding her in the darkness of her room and frowns at the missed calls from her girls, Jongdae, and Minseok. There’s even one from Kris and Baekhyun.

15 Missed Calls.

26 Unread Messages.

She opens the thread of messages from Sooyong and her heart—it twists and leaps in her chest before dropping straight into the deepest pits of her stomach, burrowing itself there among the nausea and panic. All from reading her most recent text.

From: Sooyong

Please don’t be dead. Please

Jessica blinks, scrolls up, scanning through the texts, and she watches, with acute horror as the texts morph from inquiry to urgency to horrified terror completely devoid of punctuation and filled with typos, at least until the last message she had read. It’s jarring, more so she thinks then if Sooyong had spoken these words out loud.

Jessica can’t even make herself look at the other messages or listen to the voicemails. She just rolls off the bed and dials the first number she sees. She glances in the mirror and she thinks, maybe, last night wasn’t a dream, because she’s still wearing the clothes she wore yesterday and it’s the only indication that, perhaps, something had happened while she was gone, something she hadn’t witnessed, the same thing Zelo was being cryptic about, and the terror, the utter dread, skitters up her spine, claws at growing goose bumps, until she’s yanking boots on and slamming the door shut behind her before the call has even gone to the third ring.

No one picks up.

She pulls her phone away from her ear and stares at the name of the person she’s calling, even as the automated voice tells her to leave a message in a robotic tone.

Sehun, it says.

Sehun isn’t picking up.

She thinks she’s going to throw up, her head spinning, and she’s running to the bus stop this time, birds chirping softly under the glow of the rising sun, the air too chilly despite the coat she’s managed to throw on before sprinting out her apartment in flip-flops.

~.~.~.~.~

“Jess!” Minhee’s the first person she sees, when she shoves Baekhyun’s unlocked front door open, jumping in place as she yanks her shoes off, nearly tripping over herself and the other shoes in the process. Jessica turns, spinning on her heels, and Minhee’s already thrown herself at Jessica, pulling her into a quick, tight hug, almost anchoring and certainly secure enough to make the tension in her shoulders trickle out of her the tiniest bit. Jessica teeters in Minhee’s tight grip, blinking rapidly, and, for a moment, the squeezing in her chest subsides.

She blinks when Minhee pulls back, glancing down at her. Jessica’s forgotten how tiny Minhee is. Jessica frowns, “You’re supposed to be at your internship.”

Minhee scowls, clearly peeved, “Is that the first thing you’re going to say to me after you disappeared?”

“I—” Jessica cuts herself off when the basement door creaks open and Kyungsoo sticks his head out the door, his eyes big and unreadable. Jessica looks at him before glancing back at Minhee, at her distraught expression and worried frown, and gives her a genuine smile, squeezing her hands, “I’m sorry.”

Minhee just squeezes her hand back while Kyungsoo speaks instead, his big eyes still so unreadable. It seems almost staged, the way Kyungsoo speaks while Minhee watches her reaction. “You really chose a time to disappear, you know that?”

Jessica blinks, taken aback, “Why?”

Kyungsoo just pushes open the door before disappearing down the stairs.

“Jess—” Minhee cuts herself off when Jessica shakes her hands off of her, hurrying towards the stairs. It’s dark down there, she notes, and when she looks back at Minhee, she has her lips pursed. She’s right behind Jessica anyway.

Jessica makes entirely too much noise as she stomps down the stairs, the sounds themselves completely unlike her. She bursts into the basement to quiet contemplation of the worst kind. Jessica’s seen this before, back when Minhee had a damn bomb sewn into her stomach and Yixing had to get it out. It’s that kind of silence, foreboding, worrying, scared.

She’s scared when she meets Sooyong’s eyes and they widen, her head shaking slightly, as if to say, don’t look, disappear again, you don’t need to see this, you can’t see this.

Downright terrified.

She heaves for air, her chest rising and falling, and someone touches her elbow, gently, carefully.

“Hey.” Jongdae says and she manages to tear her eyes away from the room, the solemn expressions around her. The room is missing two pairs of familiar eyes and frightens her.

(What will you do when I kill them? echoes in her head, over and over again.)

Jongdae’s smile is warm, reassuring, and she wonders if he’s done this before, this calming down thing. From the look in his eyes, the placement of his hands, the angle of his smile, she thinks he has and it reminds her that she is not the only one with ghosts crowding up her days.

“Freaking out won’t help anyone.” Jongdae says, thumb gently tapping out a soothing rhythm against the crook of Jessica’s elbow.

He’s not wrong. He’s not wrong so she takes a deep breath, a deep, deep breath, and Jongdae nods, reassuringly, manages not to patronize her. “Where are they?” Her voice is quiet, barely audible even to her.

Jongdae nods towards the room the same room Minhee had had her surgery in, the same goddamn room she had woken up in, the same ing room Luhan had told her that no one would believe her in. “In there.”

She lets out an unsteady breath.

“Yeah?” She asks, though she doesn’t know what she means by it, maybe she just wants to keep talking.

“Yeah.” Jongdae’s voice is kind. “It’ll be okay.”

~.~.~.~.~

They say bad things happen to good people. Jessica was never sure of whom they were, but she thinks they’re spouting utter bull. Bad things don’t happen to good people. Bad people happen to good people. And then they become bad people, bad people who do bad things to other bad people. Bad people who do bad things to good people, over and over again, until there are no more good people left. It’s a vicious cycle, never-ending, round and round and round it goes until the world turns to dust and smoke and solar flares.

Bad things happen to bad people and that’s why this is happening to them, because they are the worst kind of people. She is the worst kind of person. They’re murderers, robbers, greedy gangsters who exploit good people for money and pleasure. She is a murderer, robber, a greedy gangster who exploits good people for money and pleasure.

They are all terrible people. Her and all her friends. She wants to think that she deserves this somehow, this inherent unhappiness that has followed them ever since they started LILAC, she wants to think that she can’t blame any of this on anyone but herself, on themselves.

But her brain is angry and overwhelmed and all she can think of is how she had ignored his messages, rejected him and called him selfish, and now he’s probably going to die. That will be his last memories of her.

(Perhaps, she deserves that, too. But she scours for someone to blame other than herself.

It’s a difficult thing to do.)

Zelo’s warnings run circles in her brain, lap after lap after lap, and she thinks she’s going to go crazy.

(She could have prevented this.)

Her brain focuses on the details again.

Sehun with one leg crossed over the other and black eye that’s not necessarily black, more a purplish-blue. His lip is split open, red with blood, dried blood speckling his chin. His knuckles, she notices, are bruised purple, the same color as his eye, and his pale skin only emphasizes that. She wants to know why he went out to fight, when he’s a damn computer hacker and he has no place out there. But she doesn’t ask, doesn’t want to know the answer as to what was so important that he had to go out there in the first place.

Instead, her eyes flicker to the bed.

Jongin looks like he could be sleeping, despite the cuts and bruises littering his skin, disappearing down past his collarbone and underneath the white sheet. She doesn’t like the white sheets. It reminds her of hospitals and death and pain.

Jongin’s under eyes are bruised, not the same way Sehun’s are. Jongin’s are purpled from lack of sleep, exhaustion. His mouth is slightly open and there’s no blood. There’s a cast on his arm, the other arm hanging off the edge of the bed, in the direction of where Sehun is sitting stock-still and staring in Jongin’s sole direction. Sehun doesn’t even look at her, not even when she’s standing beside him. Jongin’s breathing is steady but his eyes remain closed.

Yixing peels his white latex gloves off his hands, one finger at a time. The single rolling IV fluid bad has a little monitor that beats out a steady rhythm, Jongin’s heartbeat—a rhythm she thought she’s forgotten in the midst of fighting and being kicked out and selfishness, perhaps on both their parts, if she thinks about it now.

“Jessica.” Yixing sighs, his voice sounding so, so far away.

“Tell her.” Sehun says and she almost recoils at the sharpness in his tone, the coldness, "Tell her, hyung.”

Yixing glances between them. Jongin’s tan skin is a pale brown, the warm glow he always has gone.

Yixing just sighs again.

Jessica’s heart pounds against , makes it hard to breathe, to think. Her knees buckle and she leans against the closed door behind her.

~.~.~.~.~

From: Zelo

Next time they won’t be so lucky.

~.~.~.~.~

They had gotten a call, she later learns from a hesitant, gently reassuring Jongdae, his wispy smile almost heartbreaking in the midst of everything that’s happening.

Later, she learns exactly what provoked Sehun into the field, rather than staying put behind his computers—or rather, who.

Jessica takes a deep, deep staggering breath, thinks of Zelo or Jongup or even Donghyuk calling Sehun or Jongin and using her as a way to lure them into danger, into broken bones and the brink of death and—she isn’t even sure how long it’ll take Jongin to wake up, Yixing doesn’t even sound too sure of whether he’ll wake up at all, because that’s what a gunshot wound and metal bat to the head does to a person. She takes another staggering breath and it doesn’t come out quite right, a fitful staccato filling the silence. She earns another wispy smile from Jongdae that doesn’t reach his eyes at all, another reassuring back rub. They had pictures of her, he says, unconscious and tied up. Her stomach churns because she has no memory of it, goosebumps creeping up her skin, down her back. Jongdae goes into more detail, his words burrowing themselves into her brain, clawing images into her mind’s eye, and as she unconsciously tunes out Jongdae’s voice, her brain whispers, this is your fault.

(She could have prevented this.)

She learns that Jongin and Sehun had left as soon as they got the call; they didn’t even bother coming up with a plan. They had just booked it out of Baekhyun’s house and straight into the trap. Burden has remained a heavy weight on her shoulders for months now, maybe even ever since she’s met Sehun, and then Jongin. But at that very moment, she thinks she fully feels the weight of that word, of that all-encompassing word that seems to have embedded itself into her entire being, her soul. She hates it, hates feeling like a burden to them, an obligation, someone they have to protect, and, at that moment, the feeling of being a burden is so ing strong that Jessica pales, her nose stinging and her eyes burning as the feeling of oncoming tears suddenly overwhelms her. She blinks them away, the movement rapid, and her fingers curl in her lap. She breathes heavily, a knot forming in her chest.

(She could have ing prevented this.)

“Jess—”

Jessica stands up abruptly, making Jongdae cut himself off. He looks up at her, from where he’s seated on the couch. “I…” Jessica doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to say that she could have ing prevented this if she just complied with Zelo, doesn’t know how to explain her jittery hands, the sudden need to run far, far away.

There’s a long, long pause before Jongdae nods towards the door, “It’s late. Try to convince Sehun to get some sleep.”

Jongdae’s expression surprisingly understanding as he smiles that same wistful, curly smile, before he stands up, brushes his palms across his jeans, and spins on his heels, the sound of footsteps practically nonexistent as he heads up the stairs.

~.~.~.~.~

She pauses at the threshold of the room.

Jongin looks the same, if not significantly paler.

Sehun sitting cross-legged on the armchair Baekhyun had dragged into the room for him. There’s another one next to him, but Jessica doesn’t sit down. Sehun doesn’t ask her to, even when he actually looks up and stares at her for a moment, carefully assessing her as if he’s searching for injuries, though the gesture seems more mechanic, habitual rather than conscious.

“If he dies—”

“He won’t.” Jessica cuts him off, vaguely wondering when she’s become an optimist. But the thought of Jongin dying, before Jessica can—she doesn’t know what she wants to say to him, she just knows that she can’t have him leave her with their previous conversation as the last memory he has of her, the last memory she has of him. It feels unfinished, wrong, painful, and perhaps she and Jongin have never been anything significantly happy, just angry and sarcastic quips with inside jokes sprinkled throughout, but she doesn’t want him to die on her, not when he’s kicked her out of his apartment, his life. Not when she called him selfish and he hasn’t had the chance to retort, proving her right yet again. She can’t see her life without him. She can’t see Sehun without him. She can’t see the world without, can’t imagine the universe functioning without his lopsided smirks, his sleepy eyes, the way he nods off while leaning against walls, only to jolt upright, frazzled and clumsy, the way he lights up like a Christmas tree whenever he sees a dog, the way he laughs—not his cool, collected laugh, but his loud, wide-mouthed laugh, the one that encompasses his entire being, makes him throw his head back, the sound absolutely dorky. There’s a clawing feeling at her chest and burning at the back of her eyes, her nose stinging, and she rears it back, ignores it completely, blinking away the feeling as she repeats, “He won’t.”

There’s anger in his eyes, his jaw clenched, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him so upset. Sehun stares at her for a long, long minute until he speaks.

“We thought you were there.” Sehun says, speaking as if she never said anything in the first place, his voice still as cold as before. Her heart drops to her stomach as he says, “If he dies…”

He cuts himself off, as if he’s just realized what he’s said. The unspoken it’s on you still hangs between them and as the silence stretches on, the guilt quickly transforms his expression. He’s the same as her, she thinks. When he’s angry, he lashes out, says stupid things. She tries to tell herself he’s just saying something stupid, but he isn’t wrong, and she deflates against the door hinge.

Sehun blinks, frowns, and bites his lip, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

She knows he did, if not fully then partially. The guilt and regret on his face almost makes her believe that he didn’t, at all.

“Jess—”

“You should clean up and get some rest. It’s late.” Jessica cuts him off sharply. He opens his mouth but she’s already out the door and stomping up the stairs. Her eyes burn and her nose stings and she angrily rubs at her eyes as she forces back the stupid urge to cry.

~.~.~.~.~

(She can still prevent it, she thinks.)

Her phone is in her hands, Zelo’s name glowing across her screen.

“Jess.” Sooyong’s voice startles her, making her spin on her heels, phone fumbling in her hands.

Sooyong’s brows are knit together and she’s still fully dressed, her makeup smudged, despite it being almost two in the morning. Jessica’s hands tremble as she grabs the kitchen counter behind her and tries to look utterly casual. “Hey, what are you doing up?”

Sooyong just shrugs, her eyes focused solely on Jessica’s face. “You okay?”

Jessica notes that Sooyong doesn’t ask her what she’s doing up, as if Sooyong already knows why. She figures Sooyong does.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Jessica asks, frowning.

Sooyong just stares at her and Jessica can make out the exhaustion in her eyes, to the point where they’re a little red. Her hair is out of place and Jessica wonders why Sooyong isn’t with Baekhyun. Jessica ignores the pointed look Sooyong gives her, “Jongin’s going to be okay, Jess.”

Jessica wants to say that, yes, maybe he’s going to be okay now, but what about next time? But all she can do is, all she thinks to do, is purse her lips and say, “You think so?”

Jessica’s voice comes out less steady then she wants it to, her voice wavering and the stinging in her eyes returning full force. Sooyong’s expression softens significantly as she steps forward quickly, her arm wrapping around Jessica’s waist. Jessica tenses because she hates being coddled, hates feeling so goddamn weak, but there’s also a huge part of her that just wants to curl up in Sooyong’s arms and have everything just stop. “Yeah, Jess, I do.”

Jessica closes her eyes, briefly allowing herself to fall into that feeling, that weakness, before she steels herself, gently pushing Sooyong’s arms away as she steps back. Jessica blinks, rapidly, her eyes falling on everything but Sooyong. She can’t stand to see the expression on Sooyong’s face, the sadness and pity. She can’t stand feeling so fragile. She takes a deep, deep breath. “You should—you should get some sleep. You look like .”

Sooyong doesn’t even laugh. She just remains quiet. Jessica can’t help but look up at her.

Sooyong’s not smiling, she’s just staring at Jessica, assessing her expression.

“I’m fine, Soo.” Jessica reassures her and her voice comes out so much steadier than before. “Really.”

Sooyong doesn’t look like she believes her and the bone deep fatigue emanating from Sooyong makes Jessica feel worse somehow, more of a burden than before. And here she thought that wouldn’t be possible. Jessica’s fingers curl around her phone.

(She will stop this, she decides, right then and there.)

Sooyong’s eyes dart down to Jessica’s hand, to her phone.

“Okay.” Sooyong finally says, her voice quiet, steady, “You get some rest, too, okay?”

Jessica nods, smile tight.

Sooyong turns, her hair swishing behind her. Then she pauses at the kitchen entrance, glancing over her shoulder. Her eyes are filled with meaning, with a knowing look that makes goosebumps prickle up Jessica’s arms. “Don’t do anything reckless, Jess.”

~.~.~.~.~

She reasons that she can prevent this from happening again. If she couldn’t get Zelo to stop through reason alone, then what if she accepts his offer and rebuilds his trust in her? What if she can convince him then? She thinks it’s possible because she had seen Yongguk, seen what the idea of revenge left to fester for years had done to him. Zelo hasn’t had years to nurse his thirst for revenge. Jessica thinks there might be a sliver of hope, tiny but there, that Junhong is still in there, amidst the madness and revenge, burrowed within the layers and layers of anger and sadness. Maybe she can through to him.

And if worse comes to worse and that doesn’t work, then maybe she can remove the problem from its roots. Maybe she can kill him. Before all this, she had thought that she wouldn’t be able to do it, she’s only killed a handful of times and it still haunts her, but now—now she thinks of Jongin unconscious in that basement room, of Sehun’s words, his somber expression, of Minhee pretending that she wasn’t badly shaken up after that car crash, of Mina’s terrified expression in the van when Moon Jongup was chasing them down, of Sooyong’s exhaustion, and she decides that she can do it. She can make herself do it. She can kill Zelo. She has to. At least so she can prevent this from happening again, from it turning out worse. She thinks of seeing one of her friends dead, thinks of one or both of her boys dying, and her heart twists in her chest. She can’t deal with it. She can’t see it. She doesn’t want to see it.

She breathes out heavily, her fingers moving across her phone on their own accord.

The phone rings twice before, “I knew you’d come to your senses eventually.”

Zelo's laugh is loud, boisterous.

(Perhaps, Junhong is already gone and she’s setting herself up for failure from the very start.)

a/n: who am without apologizing profusely in every author's note for being like 10 years later updating all of my fics ksdjbfjskdbkj i'm so so sorry!!!!!!

anyways, this fic has taken a Turn and I know it might be a little weird, but pls stick with me guys, I'm making slow progress hahaha

ALSO WHO'S READY FOR AN EXO COMEBACK BECAUSE MY CROPS ARE DYING I MISS EXO

thank you for reading and all the support and I really truly love you all so much :*

xoxo