A/N: I need to learn how to stop....

-B.

 

-March 24th, 2015. Paris 10:14.

 

When they opened the door, they were blinded by light. Zitao staggered forward, Jongin fell.

“Zitao, what day and time is it?” He heard Mama ask.

“What?” He blabbered while furiously blinking to adjust his sight and, at the same time, stepping to the side to avoid tripping over Jongin.

“Quick, answer me,” she insisted.

“Monday, ten-fourteen, night,” he answered. “We were inside for twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes.”

“You’re off by twelve hours.”

Zitao stood dumbfounded, trying to stay upright as Jongin clinged on him to get back up on his feet. His sight had finally adjusted well enough to see her standing in front of the workstation closest to the isolation room. It looked like she had been waiting there for some time since there were papers scattered on top of the counter, a coffee mug and an empty plate.   

“What?”

“You were inside for thirty-five hours and fourteen minutes,” she said. “It’s Tuesday.”

“.”

“Oh, god. I need to lie down,” Jongin grumbled tiredly.

“There’s no time for that. You have to pick up Baekhyun and Junmyeon.” Mama informed.

“Uh, give me a moment.” He disappeared.

“Where did he go?”

Zitao scratched his arm. “Mmm...Bathroom.”

“But there is a bathroom inside.” She pointed at the isolation room.

“We know. It’s just that he used it once in a day and a half.”

“Oh…” She looked mildly concerned. “So how did it go?”

“Not well,” he sighed.

Mama nodded silently and then pulled out a chair next to hers for Zitao to sit. “You can’t feel the shift?” she asked.

“I think...I think I can,” Zitao said, slightly unsure. “I thought it would be easy to tell when Jongin would pull me into a sub-dimension, but it’s not what I...expected.” Mama tilted her head, observing him. She silently urged him to continue. “Whenever Jongin teleports me, I always feel like I’m being pulled into an abyss. I feel my gut sink and the air squeeze out of my lungs. And then, in a fraction of a second, the feeling is gone and I’m standing on my own feet someplace else.”

“You thought entering a sub-dimension would feel like that? A pull?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It took me so long, but the most I feel is a shift of pressure before, well, before I panic.”

“Panic?” She questioned alarmed.

“Just a bit. It’s because I realize I stop breathing -or just can’t at all,” he explained. “I think that’s when I’m in the sub-dimension. When I can’t breathe.”

“Have you managed to estimate how long it takes for you to realize you’re not breathing?” she asked. “It would be a close approximation to the time you’re inside the sub-dimension.”

Zitao nodded, “We thought that too.” He rubbed his neck pensively. “My breathing pattern is quite slow while meditating, four to five breaths per minute. So it takes me twelve seconds on average to realize I’m not getting any air inside. I think.”

“You think,” she repeated. “Hmm, you’re probably inside the sub-dimension a little longer than when you realize you’re out of breath.”

Zitao nodded in agreement. He slumped forward and let out a tired suspiration. “My perception gets so fu-messed up in there.” He looked back at the box that was the isolation room. “I can’t believe I was off by twelve hours. Twelve hours,” he stressed. “We didn’t even feel hunger or sleep in there.”

“It’s because your bodies are used to environmental cues. If you had stayed inside for another day your bodies would’ve adapted better and probably would’ve felt an energetic depletion.”

“Two whole days,” Zitao grimaced.

She shrugged. “You might’ve been wrong with it being day or night, but you were precise with the time. It’s a good start.”

“I was,” he nodded, feeling a bit proud of himself for not being a complete failure.

“You should manage to reverse three years back within fifteen to twenty seconds inside the sub-dimension. It’s just a matter of holding your breath and, well, not panicking.” Zitao could hear the slight amusement in her voice -though her face read seriousness. “You’ll get used to being inside quickly.”

Zitao frowned at the thought. “There’s nothing in there. It’s nothing. I...If it weren’t for Jongin being in there with me, I would’ve gone mad.” Mama looked at him surprised, clearly not expecting him to be so honest with her.  “If I weren’t desperate to make this work, I would never spend another second inside that room again.”

Mama seemed taken aback. She looked down to her hands with a lost gaze. “Desperate,” she mumbled.

Zitao frowned uncertain. He wasn’t sure where her mind had wandered off to or if he should try saying something to her. He saw from the corner of his eye that Jongin reappeared at the hall, just a few steps away from them, when Mama looked back at him.

“Baekhyun stayed inside a room like this for nearly a month. Alone.” She spoke cautiously and without a hint of sentiment. “You two can manage being in there for two days, maybe more.”

He stared perplexed, eyes shifting to meet Jongin’s disconcerted gaze.

“He did what?” Jongin strained out.

Mama finally noticed he was there. “He stayed in an isolation room for twenty-four days straight.”

“Why?”

“To force his abilities out,” she answered. “Desperate times require desperate measures.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Jesus,” Jongin exclaimed. “And I was complaining about one day.”

“You two are going to have to step up your game.” She said and then turned to pick up a few pictures off the counter. “Here,” she said as she stood up and passed them to Jongin. “A map and some pictures of Baekhyun’s apartment in Lyon. That’s where you’ll find them.”

Jongin skimmed through the pictures. “Are they alright?”

“I don’t think so,” Mama said softly. “Baekhyun wouldn’t be asking for you otherwise.”

“What could’ve happened to them?” Zitao asked cautiously.

Mama looked at him in uncertainty, yet her eyes remained calm as ever. “Something bad enough to have them hiding in Baekhyun’s apartment.”

Jongin shared a worried look with Zitao before teleporting away. It was just him and Mama in the lab again.

After a moment of silence, Mama asked, “Did you try anything else?”

“I…” He looked away, down to his hands.

He did  -they did, but it was an idea so ridiculous that it obviously could never happen.

“What is it?”

“You said that my abilities alter the space-time continuum. My mind works in a higher dimension than my physical state. But what if I could use that to connect with Jongin?” She frowned and didn’t seem to understand where he was heading. “What if I could enter a higher state of mind and connect with Jongin’s consciousness?”

Mama stared for three whole seconds without blinking. “What?”

“I...ugh,” he groaned frustrated. “This is going to sound ridiculous.”

“I figured,” she deadpanned.

Who would’ve thought she had a sense of humor? He wondered.

“Like Jongin uses sub-dimensions to travel through space-time, my mind exists within a higher dimension than my body -sort of like a sub-dimension where only my mind exists,” he tried to explain. “But it’s a sub-dimension that can hold more than one consciousness.”

“Two minds in one brain?” she asked incredulously. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not.” He could see her surprise at the confidence in his voice. But he immediately regretted his eagerness to prove her wrong, because now he would have to reveal the truth to her. “I...I have another consciousness inside my mind. The first Tao’s consciousness is stuck inside my brain.”

Her eyes widened impossibly so. “You have another voice in your head?” she asked astounded.

“Yes. No. Well, yeah, but not like that.” She frowned confused -Zitao couldn’t blame her, he was at explaining himself. “He’s in here, but he’s not a voice talking to me all the time. I can only see him when I enter my subconscious.”

“See him?”

“Yes. I see him like I see you. I can speak to him as well.”

“What did he do to end up inside of you?” she asked with genuine concern while she furrowed her brows.

“He turned back time,” he answered. “Years back and didn’t wind up inside his own body.”

“Can you…” She let her question die as her hand reached up to play with her pendant -her gaze seemed lost in deep thought.

“Mama?”

“Can you...If you,” she looked at him. “If you have the first Tao’s consciousness in your brain. Can you access his memories?”

Zitao hesitated a second. “Some of them.”

Her jaw went slack for a second and then she smiled. “That’s how you were able to predict the future,” she said amazed. “I knew it. I knew premonition wasn’t possible. But because of you... Oh, how you’ve deceived me.”

“I didn’t know either,” he defended himself. “I found out a month ago.”

“Alright, alright,” she rubbed her face with her hands. “So, your, your incredible mind is not only capable of altering space-time, but is also able to hold more than one consciousness. And you want to try to use this ability to, what, create some sort of bridge with Jongin’s mind?”

“Umm, yeah, maybe.”

“What for?”

“Uh...To be able to connect with him somehow in the sub-dimension? I don’t know,” he admitted.

She smiled. Why? He wasn’t sure, but Mama smiled.

“It might be ridiculous and, in my opinion, unnecessary, but your body isnt used to being inside a sub-dimension. Your awareness, on the other hand, is used to a higher mind state dimension, so to speak,” she reasoned. “So maybe connecting to Jongin’s mind won’t work as a form of telepathic communication, but you might be able to perceive Jongin through it. You might be able to be aware of being in the sub-dimension through Jongin’s mind.”

He slowly nodded, letting her words sink in. “Yeah, I was thinking something like that,” he agreed.

He was grateful of how easily she explained it, since he couldn’t figure how to put his idea into the right words. Maybe he even felt admiration as she figured it all out right then and there -though he would never admit that out loud.

“Do you think it’s possible?” he asked.

She played with her bell pedant as she hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “We live inside a three dimensional world -or at least we perceive three. The eyes see in two spatial dimensions while the brain maps out depth and volume.” She turned her attention to him, her gaze coming alive “To be able to do what you can, Tao, your brain goes beyond, in the dimension of time. And if time is interconnected with space, who’s to say you can’t venture to other dimen-”

“Help. Help!”

It was Jongin, he could recognize his voice from anywhere. Zitao jumped to his feet and rushed down the laboratory hall with Mama in tow. He found Jongin in tears, standing in the middle section of the lab, holding onto a very -save for his briefs that offered little coverage for his overall ness- and a very skinless Junmyeon.

“Oh my god,” he gasped as he took in the damage of Junmyeon’s skin. Most of his upper body’s skin had dried up and cracked -just like the time it did during the trials. But this time it looked much worse than what he remembered.

Mama’s eyes narrowed after her initial shock, and then quickly shifted into her natural calm state. “He needs to be put in a tank.”

“What happened?” Zitao heard someone say behind them. “We heard a scream and -oh, . Junmyeon.”

Zitao turned to find Minseok and Sehun, and some other dude he had never seen before.

“Hyung? Sehun?” Zitao mumbled in surprise.

“Tao, Jongin,” Sehun called out in a soft, strained voice -he appeared conflicted from wanting to be happy from their reunion, but unable to, do to Junmyeon’s crippling state.

Zitao quickly regarded the others’ appearances, slowing down time so he could take a good look at them. Despite the change, Minseok seemed like time hadn’t passed him by. His face, now lean and chiseled, only made his eyes wider, and his overall appearance more youthful. Sehun, on the other hand, had grown up so much. So tall and broad, he had the proportions of a swimmer and a face straight out of a magazine. He was slightly taller than the third guy, but the dude he didn’t know had the widest set of shoulders he’d ever seen, along with long legs that made up over half of his height. But what stood out the most about him, was the disparity of his eye colors.

“Wow, Sehun. You’re as tall as me,” Zitao muttered in dumb amazement, as he let his grip off time bending, returning it to its normal speed.

“Hyung, you look the same,” Jongin said rather uncomfortably as he was trying to stay still for Junmyeon. At least he wasn’t crying anymore.

“I’ve noticed,” Minseok mumbled in a rush. “What happened, Junmyeon?”

“Aah...allergy,” Junmyeon softly replied, drawing out the ‘a’ sound as if he was doped.

“Allergy?” Minseok said in disbelief.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mama intervened. “Jongin, don’t let go of Junmyeon,” Mama ordered. “You four, follow me. Now.”

They quickly followed behind Mama’s hurried steps to the adjacent section, right at their left. At the back of the section, between machines and instruments concealed under plastic sheets, was a water tank big enough to fit a human.

“We need to move this,” she instructed as she put all of her weight to push a table out of the way.

Sehun hurried beside her, and then everyone joined, scooting whatever object they found out of the tank’s way.

“When did you guys get here?” Zitao asked, putting little effort to help out as he moved a small storage cabinet aside.

 “Last night.”

“This morning,” Sehun said with a laborious grunt, pushing something big with myriad of wires.

“Two in the morning is practically night time,” Minseok argued and went to help Sehun get rid of the mysterious machine.

Sehun let out a breath and patted his hands against his pants. “You think all of us can push it?” Sehun asked while eyeing the sheer size of the tank.

“Couldn’t we ask Jongin?” Minseok said.

“Give him a break,” Zitao said rather curtly. Jongin always ended up doing most of the work for some reason. “He shouldn’t let go of Junmyeon -I don’t think he could take moving at all.”

“Okay, I got this,” Minseok rolled up his sleeves and aimed his hands at the floor. He created a slick film of ice right in front of the tank. “Reducing the static friction should be enough.”

“What?” Sehun asked.

“Slippery floor,” Minseok supplied. “Daniel,” Minseok called looking to his side, but then noticed no one was beside him. “Daniel?”

The dude -now known as Daniel- had been standing by the entrance of the lab section instead of helping them out. He looked nervous, fidgeting with his hands in front of him as he looked down embarrassed. Zitao didn’t understand why he acted so shy, like a child.

“Daniel, push this,” Minseok ordered and walked behind the tank.

Daniel nodded his head once, as to say yes, and made his way next to Minseok. He squared his stance, putting his broad shoulders to work and pushed the tank with all his might. Zitao stared amazed at Daniel, who managed to start moving the tank on his own -later joined by Minseok.

“...Is he like Kyungsoo?” He asked in a hushed tone to Sehun.

“No,” Sehun answered. “He’s...different.”

“That’s enough,” Mama said and made her way to connect the tank to a power source.

“Daniel, stop,” Minseok instructed. Daniel waggled his way to stay by Minseok’s side. Daniel looked down at the other expectantly. “Thank you, you did well,” Minseok said and Daniel smiled brightly.

Zitao thought Daniel resembled a dog and Minseok it’s owner -which was quite unsettling.

“A little help,” Mama said in a strained voice.

Minseok was the fastest to react this time and helped her connect the water pipes to the main source. After that Mama pressed a few buttons and activated the tank, which started to fill rapidly with water.

“Get Junmyeon,” she said and Sehun bolted out before anyone else. She continued calibrating the tank, pressing code sequences onto the touch screen of the monitor hooked to its right side.

Jongin and Junmyeon popped up between them and the tank. Zitao noticed how Daniel leaped back in surprise, seemingly very easy to startle.

“You’ll have to put him inside once it stops filling,” Mama informed him.

“Sehun,” Jongin called for the boy behind him. “Pull my coat,” he instructed.

Sehun frowned in confusion, but did as told. He grabbed the back of Jongin’s collar and began to pull it backwards. Jongin made his body, and consequently Junmyeon’s, intangible, letting Sehun pull his coat right through him.

“Neat trick,” Minseok admired with amusement. “Can you step out of your clothes?”

“Yeah,” Jongin smirked. “Sehun, can you help with my shirt too?”

“Sure,” Sehun mumbled unamused. “This is exactly how I pictured meeting you again. Stripping your clothes off,” he said as he helped pull off Jongin’s clothes.

“You could make a career as an exotic stripper, y'know,” Zitao chuckled.

“Isn’t it exotic dancer?” Jongin asked.

“You’d be, be more exotic than a stripper, Jonginie,” Junmyeon said while slurring the ‘s’ and then chuckled -his voice was weak, but at least he made the effort to join their jokes.

“What about your pants and shoes?” Sehun asked while folding the clothes over his arm.

“You really wanna see him strip ?” Zitao snickered, making them laugh.

“Shut up,” Sehun mumbled.

“Don’t worry, I won’t get in.” Jongin said.

When the tank stopped filling with water, Jongin made himself and Junmyeon intangible. He helped Junmyeon phase through the glass, and needed to lean his upper body inside the tank to help the other settle in. Jongin managed to keep his lower body and mid-section intangible, and only his arms materialized inside the tank, along with Junmyeon. Zitao couldn’t help but admire the control Jongin had over his body.

Once Junmyeon was completely submerged, Jongin pulled out and stood with only his arms wet. Zitao covered his face as Sehun gusted the room, quickly drying Jongin up as best he could. When Jongin was dry enough, he dressed himself and teleported away.

“How are you feeling?” Minseok asked as he stood before the tank.

Junmyeon looked much more relaxed inside the water. He pushed himself up to stick his head out of the water. “Better,” he said.

“What did you take to manage the pain?” Mama asked.

“I don’t know what it was.” He ducked down to wet his face and then got back up. “I think Baek might know,” he added.

“Do you feel any pain?” she asked.

“Uh, not much.”

“Alright,” Mama said calmly. She checked the monitor one more time before making her way to stand beside Minseok. “What happened in Genoa, Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon looked away and dropped back into the water to submerged his head. He stayed down there for a few seconds before pushing himself up again. “We were at the pier when they attacked us,” he said, sounding more sober. “Agent Kim told me to jump into the water and get to France. To Marseille,” he added and then sank down a little, letting only his eyes and ears above the water.

“You were attacked by hybrids?” Zitao asked with trepidation, remembering that those monsters had attacked Chanyeol before. Junmyeon nodded to say yes. “ing, Maxwell,” Zitao cursed.

“Maxwell?” Sehun asked, raising his gaze towards him.

“Yeah, that bastard betrayed us and now he’s with EX’ACT,” Zitao said venomously. “It’s because of him that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are missing.”

“Wait,” Minseok lifted his hands in front of him. “Chanyeol is missing?”

“He was attacked by hybrids in Mexico, and has been running from them ever since,” Zitao informed. But then quickly realized something. “Wait. You knew Kyungsoo is missing?”

“Baekhyun told me,” Minseok said with a nod.

“Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are both missing?” Sehun asked dreadfully, eyes wide with worry.

“We know Chanyeol managed to escape and has made his way up to Arizona,” Mama calmly explained. “Baekhyun sent his guardian, Agent Moon, to find him.”

“And Kyungsoo?” Sehun asked.

“Kyungsoo was in New Zealand-”

“Something bad happened down in New Zealand,” Junmyeon cut in, speaking more to himself than to the rest.

Mama’s sharp eyes looked over at Junmyeon, Zitao recognized that look. It was the one she had whenever she wanted them to think for themselves, that look of expectation and encouragement for them to draw their own conclusions.

“Something that couldn’t be a coincidence. Because of a rat, because of Maxwell, something happened to Kyungsoo.” He paused -visibly gulping down as if he dreaded where his thoughts were leading him to. “What did they do to Kyungsoo?” Junmyeon dared to ask.

“They kidnapped him,” she said.

Junmyeon closed his eyes, clenching his jaw tightly, before dropping down and letting his body sink to the bottom of the tank -bubbles rising up to pop at the surface as he let out a long breath of air. He sat there, covering his face with his hands as if he wasn’t capable of looking at their faces.

Zitao sulked as he could feel the disappointment and remorse radiating from Junmyeon. He had already gone through those emotions, of helplessness, of anger, of self-blame. A fellow member had been captured while everyone else was hiding in their own bubbles, oblivious to the ominous threat lurking behind their every step.

Minseok rested his forehead against the glass of the tank, eyes casted down with worry. “None of us is at fault, Junmyeon,” he said, trying to comfort the younger in the water. “We couldn’t have known they’d take him away.”

Zitao felt something bump against his shoulder. It was Sehun, resting his head against Zitao’s shoulder. Zitao wrapped his arms around the younger, hugging him close.

“You’re so damn tall,” he whispered, but Sehun was in no mood to respond. He just rubbed his head against Zitao, hiding away from the tension in the room.

And just then and there, Jongin reappeared with Baekhyun -startling that poor kid Daniel again. Everyone’s attention gravitated towards Baekhyun and the piercing gaze Mama regarded him with. Jongin stepped back, feeling uncomfortable under the weight of the tension between them, while Baekhyun kept his head up despite the obvious redness in his eyes. Mama extended her hand, palm facing up as if she expected something from him. Baekhyun picked out a used vial and a syringe from a pocket of his jacket, and carefully placed them on her hand. Mama looked down at the objects, clenching her jaw tight in silent anger. She turned to her side and threw them into a trash bin.

She looked back at him, her vexation almost tangible. This time Baekhyun couldn’t meet her gaze. This time he looked away and he searched inside his other pocket, picking out a medication box and then handing it to her. She looked at the box with disdain and then tossed it to the side, letting it plop onto the counter.

Zitao could see the disappointment in Mama’s indignant eyes -he couldn’t remember a time he’d ever seen her this mad. During the trials, he was used to her cold anger, not this fiery gaze that paralyzed them in fear. Zitao couldn’t fathom how, but Baekhyun mustered the strength to meet her eyes, steeling his resolve against her censorious gaze. Mama lifted her chin, tilting her head sideways to appear as if she was looking down at him -despite their height difference.

“We’ll talk later.” Her voice struck cold through the tension.  

Baekhyun made his way out of the lab without sparing them a glance. He moved quickly, yet with confidence, never letting his shoulders slump or his eyes meet the ground.

Once he was out of sight, Mama turned to pick up the medication box and threw it into the trash bin.

Zitao shared a worried gaze with Jongin. From Jongin’s look alone, he could tell the drug must have been important. He tried to encourage Jongin to speak up by nodding his head towards Mama’s direction. But Jongin didn’t dare speak up -and honestly, neither did Zitao.

Luckily for them both, Minseok had been observing and caught on what they were trying to imply.

“Was that the pain medication Junmyeon mentioned?” Minseok asked cautiously, but without showing any fear. “Won’t he be needing that?”

Mama shook her head no. She slowly looked over at them, as if her mind was still wrapped up over Baekhyun, but at least her gaze seemed to have softened.

“It’s not going to be strong enough,” she said calmly, as if she hadn’t been angered at all. “It’s a synthetic analgesic. Whoever gave this to Baekhyun must’ve been worried about a possible drug addiction, and preferred this option over an opiate.”

“How do you know someone gave that to him?” Minseok frowned at her.

“You need a prescription for strong analgesics,” she shrugged. “Baekhyun wouldn’t have known any better and took what was offered. He should’ve just asked for morphine.”

“What are you going to give him now?” he questioned.

“Morphine,” she said as if it was obvious. “Once the other drug is out of his system, I’ll give him what he needs.”

“But, it’s a narcotic,” Sehun muttered, catching everyone’s attention. “It’s addictive,” he said worried.

“Don’t worry about that. Yixing might be an addict himself, but he can easily detox a person,” she assured.

Zitao saw the sour scowl in Minseok’s face at the mention of their healer’s issue. Zitao had overheard him, Yifan and Junmyeon discussing Yixing’s addiction one day -in fact, most of the members knew about it, though none dared to raise a word. In the three years that had passed, Zitao could only hope Yixing had finally corrected himself and gotten better. It was only a matter of time to find out if that were true.

Mama moved to check the monitor again. Zitao noticed that Junmyeon had somehow fallen asleep, with his body curled against the bottom of the tank.

“Jongin,” Mama called out for his attention, though she kept her eyes on the monitor. “Was there anyone else there with Baekhyun?”

“No,” he answered.

Mama’s shoulder’s tensed for a second, before letting her arms fall to her sides. She turned around and squinted at Jongin. But just as quick as she was to judge him, her eyes looked past him, towards Daniel. The shy guy immediately cowered under her gaze. He stepped back, lowering his head and joining his hands together in front of him. Daniel was quick to adopt a submissive stance, as if he had done it millions of times before, causing Zitao to feel that same unsettling concern -something was not right about that guy.

Mama looked back at Minseok, then at Junmyeon in the tank and then back at Daniel -and for some reason, Zitao felt relieved that she didn’t look his way.

Mama took a few steps forward. “Daniel?” She called and he looked up in surprise, his eyes were so wide and startled. “Come here,” she motioned, but he didn’t move.

Sehun reached out his hand, and Jongin made his way to join them, getting out of the way from whatever Mama was doing. Minseok kept his place in front of the tank while Mama was at the middle in front of Daniel, who had stayed further away from the rest.

Mama looked back at Minseok. “He’s not very obedient.”

Minseok’s face darkened as he clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to hurt him, Minseok. I just want to check something,” she said calmly. “Maybe he’s more used to a certain language,” she thought out loud, still looking at Minseok to read his reactions. “You picked him up in Russia, right?”

Minseok glared at her. “Don’t.”

“Come here,” Mama ordered in Russian, speaking in a firm, authoritative tone while pointing at the spot in front of her.

Zitao didn’t know about speaking Russian, but he felt his gut sink as Daniel stepped forward, stopping right at the spot Mama had indicated. His eyes flickered nervously between her and Minseok.

Mama didn’t touch him, she just examined him with her sharp eyes. “Look left,” he did. “Look right,” he did. “Look up,” he did.

“Stop it,” Minseok warned.

Daniel was still looking up when Mama reached forward and grabbed the collar of his shirt. He looked down at her with caution, but all she did was pull his collar down to try to see his chest.

“Jacket and shirt off,” she instructed while letting go of him.

Daniel looked back at Minseok with confusion. He took his jacket off, and subsequently his long sleeved shirt, dropping his clothes onto the floor carelessly.

Daniel’s body was all muscle, well defined and bulging out at places Zitao hadn’t ever known where possible to tone. Zitao doubted that the other dude’s muscles were what Mama was looking at. No, her scrutinizing gaze searched for the faint scars across Daniel’s skin. They weren’t ragged and gruesome like the one Junmyeon sported on his thigh, but smooth and faint, barely noticeable.

“Turn around. Stop.” Were her next commands, making Daniel stand with his back towards her.

She reached forward with her left hand to prod gently at a spot right next to his spine and Daniel didn’t seem to mind at all. But when she traced the scar on his left shoulder blade, Daniel spun around so quickly that Zitao barely managed to catch his movements. One second he was calm and docile, and in a fraction he had caught Mama’s wrist with his big hand, pulling her upward so her feet lifted off the ground. His face twisted in a snarl -mismatched eyes glaring down at her as he bared his teeth in a threatening way. Mama didn’t even manage to let out a gasp of surprise. She quickly grasped onto her trapped arm and tip-toed upwards, trying her best to keep him from dislocating her shoulder.

“Daniel, let her go,” Minseok spoke in Russian as he hurried to them. “Daniel!”

“Tao,” he heard Jongin plead.

Zitao blinked, backing time up a minute.

Daniel was in the process of taking his clothes off again. Zitao moved to the side, standing next to Minseok.

“She’s going to touch his shoulder, and he will snap,” he whispered to the elder.

Minseok looked up in surprise. “How much does he hurt her?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, he just grabs her wrist and snarls at her,” he admitted. “Should we interfere?”

“No,” Minseok shook his head while shifting his eyes back at Daniel and Mama. “He needs to learn.”

Zitao frowned in confusion, but didn’t alter time to ask any further. Daniel had just then spun around to catch Mama’s wrist and tug her upwards. Minseok was already moving his feet to get to them.

“Daniel, let her go. Bao!”

Minseok yelled so loud that everyone jumped in their skin out of shock. Daniel’s attention snapped towards Minseok. His stone-cold glare slowly started to morph with recognition.  

“Don’t make me say it,” Minseok warned without lowering his authoritative tone. “Let her go. Don’t make me say it,” he said in Russian.

Daniel’s eyes widened in some form of shock, as if Minseok’s words resonated with something deep inside of him. He looked down at Mama with what could only be described as sheer surprise, as if he suddenly realized what he had done. Daniel was considerate enough to lower her down before letting go of her wrist. His hands came together in front of him, retreating to his previous submissive stance while looking at Minseok with a guilty gaze.

“Thank you,” Minseok said, letting out a breath of relief and then turned to Mama. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said while rubbing her sore wrist.

“What were you even doing?” Minseok asked in a mix of confusion and irritation.

“His skin has impressive healing properties.”

Minseok frowned and stayed silent for a few fleeting seconds as his eyes wandered from Daniel to Mama, and back.

“Okay?” he said in disbelief, dragging his voice to elongate the word.

“Daniel, turn around.” She had the nerve to order him again, and he obeyed -as if he hadn't tried to pull her arm off just a few minutes ago. “Look, the one on his spine has healed marvelously from a clean, precise cut. It’s surgical.”

“So?”

“The one on his shoulder isn’t. But it’s healed just like the one on his spine.” She paused, giving him a look while holding onto her aching wrist. “Does he let you touch him?”

Minseok seemed taken aback by her question. “Uh, yeah.”

“Touch his scars.”

Daniel suddenly jerked upright, straightening his back and turning his head to look at them over his shoulder with wide, expectant eyes.

“Relax,” Minseok reassured him, and Daniel immediately loosened up. “Don't say that word again.” Minseok told Mama.

“What word?”

Minseok huffed. “Scar,” he said reluctantly.

Again, Daniel jolted to stand in attention. Minseok calmed him down.

Mama regarded their interactions with utmost interest, devouring every detail and silently analysing what to make of the situation before her. Minseok looked at her with a cold, hard gaze, while stepping forward to become a human barrier between her and Daniel. He was being defensive, and too obvious about it.

“Just don’t say it again,” he warned her.

“Alright. Can you scan him?” She said, pronouncing ‘scan’ differently, making the ‘sca’ sound similar to how ‘scar’ was pronounced.

Daniel jerked upwards -again.

“Stop it,” Minseok said exasperated.

Mama raised her joint hands up in surrender. “I promise to stop, if you examine his...cicatrices. Please.”

Minseok narrowed his eyes at her, but obliged. “What is this for?” he asked as he touched the scar on Daniel’s spine.

“For Junmyeon.” she replied -still holding her left wrist, so Zitao assumed she wasn’t alright. “Check the one on his shoulder. Does it feel different?”

Minseok reached up to touch the scar tissue. “No. It feels the same.” He turned to look at her, “It feels smooth.”

Mama nodded. “The one on his spine was a surgical cut, which means he must have been stitched up afterwards. But there are no track marks from where the stitches kept the skin together.”

Minseok took a closer look and nodded in agreement. He looked back at her with a little skepticism. “Why...How does this have anything to do with Junmyeon?”

“Junmyeon’s skin reacted badly to a rapid-healing serum I’ve been working on,” Mama told him. “The serum’s properties are meant to stimulate tissue regeneration, but it doesn’t discriminate between healing a wound and generating more of the other components of the skin,” she explained. “I...I’m going to need your help, Minseok. I need to take a few blood and skin samples from him.”

“You’re not going to hurt him, right?” he narrowed his gaze.

“I’m going to need a piece of his skin for a biopsy. But I need this in order to help Junmyeon, and to fix the serum so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Why did you make it?” he asked.

Mama looked at Junmyeon, still resting at the bottom of the tank, then back at Minseok. “Just in case Yixing might not be able to always help.”

Zitao felt dread as he watched the same emotion cross Minseok’s features. “From what?”

Mama showed, for the first time Zitao could think of, a shred of insecurity. “From whatever danger you’ll face,” she said, regarding him with caution. “We don’t know what you’ll have to go through to save Kyungsoo. So it’s best to be prepared.”

Silence fell upon them for a moment. Zitao was certain that everyone else was wondering the same thing as him. What kind of danger would they face?

Mama moved around the lab, picking up implements while the rest stood still, in a daze. Jongin nudged his side, giving him a meaningful look.

“The tardi-men,” he said.

Zitao nodded numbly as he remembered what Baekhyun had told them the day they arrived at Paris.

“No,” Mama said looking right at them. “We know they are trying human experiments, but I doubt they’ve gotten far with the tardigrades' genes.”

“Care to explain?” Minseok asked.

“Kyungsoo is hidden somewhere in a subunit,” Mama said as she placed a medical sampling kit on the counter to the left. “We know that subunit is trying to engineer super-resilient humans with the genes of tardigrades -these micro-animals capable of withstanding extreme conditions when in a metabolic state called cryptobiosis.”

“It’s basically creating nearly indestructible human beings, but it’s impossible,” Jongin supplied.

“You sure it’s impossible?” Minseok asked and then reached down to collect Daniel’s clothes.

“Because of the great disparity between cryptobiosis and human metabolic requirements, yes, it’s impossible,” Mama said as she pulled two stools by the counter. “But there is still the possibility of them having some sort of human experiment. And the hybrid boggers.”

“The hybrids,” Minseok mumbled with distaste to himself as he guided Daniel to take a seat in front of Mama. “Daniel, she’s going to pinch your skin a bit, but you’re going to be fine,” he assured while he patted the younger’s hair.

“Isn’t he too old to be babied?” Zitao couldn’t help himself from asking.

“No,” Minseok quickly defended. “He’s not old.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s a kid either,” Zitao muttered.

Minseok remained silent as he held Daniel’s free hand, distracting him from Mama’s ministrations. She tried her best to extract blood samples without using her left hand much-which obviously must have been in pain. Mama placed the bandaid on Daniel’s inner arm and finished labeling the vial.

“I’m curious about that,” she admitted to Minseok. “How old do you think he is?”

Minseok nibbled at his bottom lip as his brows furrowed pensively. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “Sometimes he acts like a five year old, and others I feel like I’m talking to someone around my age. I think he might be a few years younger than Sehun and Jongin.” He patted Daniel’s hand to stop the younger from picking at his bandaid.

Mama nodded her head, as if she agreed with what Minseok was saying -but Zitao wasn’t really sure what they were talking about. To him, nothing about Daniel made sense.

“I’ve seen many cases of underdeveloped clones,” she confided while she picked up a syringe, “But none that has lived this long. I am assuming he has some years on him.”

“Maybe somewhere between six and eight,” Minseok said. “Maybe more, maybe less.”

Mama turned Daniel’s arm over and injected anesthesia on the outer side of his arm -only using her right hand to do so. Daniel didn’t even seem bothered by the pinch, if anything, he looked completely curious at what was happening to him, but Mama massaged the spot anyway.

“Do you know how they trained him?” She asked while picking up a surgical punch, which looked like a small pen with a cookie-cutter end.

“Why do you ask?” Minseok questioned, sounding defensive again.

“Upbringing conditions alter learning experience. Trauma often stumps a child’s development,” she explained.

Minseok fell into silence again, looking down at Daniel with a mix of sorrow and sympathy.

“What are they talking about?” Jongin asked.

“I have no idea,” Zitao replied.

“Daniel is an experiment,” Sehun told them. “From a Russian subunit. He’s a clone too, just not...not as developed as, umm, us.”

“Not as developed how?” Jongin asked with apprehension.

Sehun rubbed his arm awkwardly. “His brain is like a kid’s.”

It made sense that Daniel was different. He had already suspected that he must’ve been in some trial, undergoing human experimentation like they had. He never imagined Daniel’s brain being underdeveloped though -despite how weird he behaved. He was so submissive towards Mama’s orders, almost like a trained dog.

“Oh.” Was all Zitao could dumbly say as he realized that was what Mama had asked Minseok.

After waiting a few minutes for the anesthesia to kick in, Mama used the surgical punch to extract a circular piece of Daniel’s dermis. Daniel frowned and wiggled uncomfortably, but at least he didn’t look like he would try hurting her again.

“So, you don’t know how they trained him?” She asked as she stored the sample in a sterile compartment.

Minseok helped to apply pressure with a gauze on Daniel’s small wound. “He’s probably traumatized,” Minseok said begrudgingly, but didn’t care to explain any further.

“Inborn and learned emotional responses are processed by the amygdala,” Mama said while preparing a needle and suture thread to stitch up the hole on Daniel’s arm. “Stimulating the amygdala with electrical pulses produces feelings of fear and apprehension in humans.” She explained while stitching him up, struggling with the forceps she held with her left hand. “But in animals, it causes tameness.”

Minseok tensed up, his hand clasped tight on Daniel’s shoulder. He gripped hard enough for Daniel to look up at him in worry -not quite understanding what was happening. Zitao on the other hand, could guess what Mama’s intentions were.

Mama managed to thread two stitches to keep the skin closed and then covered it with a bandage. “All done,” she said, smiling at Daniel, who copied her action.

“That’s all?” Minseok asked impatiently.

“Yes, that would be all,” she confirmed. “Though, it would be great to do a few brain scans on him.”

“What for?” Minseok frowned.

“Curiosity,” she answered and looked up at him with a glint of mischievousness before directing her attention back to Daniel. “Are you human or an animal?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side and Daniel mimicked her again, with childlike innocence.

Zitao felt his gut twist. He wasn’t sure if he was looking at a twenty-something year old, a child or a puppy. And Mama was having the time of her life proving this to them.

“Maybe you’re a little bit of both, since humans are mammalians after all,” she chuckled at her own joke. “A functional MRI can help me see how your amygdala reacts.” She reached up to push back a messy strand from Daniel’s hair, still smiling. The poor kid seemed to have sensed something was off, because he suddenly backed away with a nervous jolt. “Are you conditioned with fear? Or tamed by it?”

“That’s enough,” Minseok interfered. He hooked his arm with Daniel’s good one and practically dragged him out of his seat. “You don’t ever touch him again,” he warned her with an ice-cold glare and then quickly left the laboratory with Daniel.

Mama huffed. “What a killjoy.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Jongin disapproved.

Mama raised her brow. “Too harsh you think?” she asked without much care while she rubbed her left wrist.

“Yes,” Sehun said with a frown.

Mama nodded, agreeing with them. “Yeah, I got carried away,” she admitted and picked up the samples. “If the subunit is doing human trials, then you’ll probably encounter clones like Daniel. Worse than him, actually.”

“You don’t think they could be like…” Sehun hesitated to speak, but everyone knew what he wanted to say.

“No. They can’t ever be like you boys,” Mama answered and then let out a long sigh. “Jongin, Zitao, you boys should eat and rest before practicing again. I got to get working on this,” she showed them the samples, “but I need someone to keep an eye on Junmyeon.” She looked at Sehun expectantly.

“I, I can stay with him,” Sehun offered.

“Good. Let me know when he wakes up and starts feeling uncomfortable again,” she instructed and then left, walking through the left corridor of the lab.

Jongin offered a chair for Sehun to get comfortable while Zitao stared at the counter where the medical sample kit remained.

“I don’t know what the just happened,” Zitao said while rubbing his temples. “But I’m gonna go eat something.”

“Good idea,” Jongin agreed.

 

 

-March 24th, 2015. Almaty 20:01.

 

His phone reception was , expect when he was up on the rooftop of the church.

The Koryo Church wasn’t like any of the Russian Orthodox magnificent and ostentatious works of architecture. It wasn’t beautiful and colorful like The Ascension Cathedral, which looked like a dollhouse with checkered-dome rooftops. Nor was it mint-blue and golden like St. Nicholas Church. It wasn’t opulent and it didn’t have vast gardens like Sofia Church. And it definitely wasn’t anywhere near as monumental and loud as the Central Mosque. No, the small, dull, white and rusted Korean Baptist Church was the least interesting sacred building within a radius of three kilometers from the city center. The only thing that made it worth a second glance was the rusted old cross, tilting perilously from its place on the top of the bell tower, that made people wonder how the hell it hadn’t fallen off yet.

Yes, the Koryo Church’s only good thing going on was its accessible rooftop, the bell tower, and the cross that must have been blessed since it still miraculously stood at the apex of the structure. Also, the people who frequented visiting the church were mostly Korean, which meant one less language barrier for Jongdae to deal with.

Oh, and the signal of course. It was the best place in all the city to get a signal strong enough to message back to Paris.

That was why Jongdae currently found himself walking up the steps to the roof of the church. Just two hours ago, his team had received intel that needed to be transmitted back to Baekhyun. So it was Jongdae’s task to get moving and send the message.

He had been in high spirits the past three days of celebration, the Kazakh’s New Year, Nauryz, started on the Spring Equinox and ended just yesterday. It had been three whole days of bright skies, fun and laughter, but today the afternoon became windy and solem, as if the atmosphere had known that Jongdae’s mood would change. Or maybe it was Jongdae causing the inexplicable shift in the air, manipulating the electrostatic forces of the atmosphere out of pure anxiousness. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d accidentally caused an unpredicted thunderstorm.

Two words.

That’s all they had received after moving to Almaty almost three weeks ago. Two words that Jongdae couldn’t make sense of.

Baekhyun had informed Jongdae that they believed the missing subunit to be somewhere in northwest China, which was the reason why his team had been stationed in Almaty. Shortly after settling, they had ‘followed breadcrumbs’, as Agent Li had said, and confirmed Baekhyun and Mama’s suspicion. His team managed to identify two EX’ACT agents, passing through Almaty to get to China. So at least they had narrowed down the search area to find Kyungsoo.

When he reached the open rooftop, the wind had greatly picked up causing a row of white sheets, that had been hung out to dry, to flap incessantly. Jongdae walked past, taking in the scent of detergent as he made his way towards the clock tower at the other end of the roof. In front of the spiral stairway, which lead up to the bell, was a double wooden bench, with a round high-top table to its left, and a small cupboard with an old radio on top of it to its right. Many books had been left scattered about, on the table, on the bench, on top of the radio and even laying on the floor, for anyone to pick up and read. The wind that was bringing in dark clouds had opened nearly half of the books, blowing the pages with great force.

He needed to hurry.

Jongdae had brought a book just for appearances. Some book with a pretentious title, Overdose, which narrated about a venomous relationship between mother and son that led to drug abuse and murder -or some tragedy like that.

He made himself comfortable and opened the book at a random page. Jongdae pulled out his phone from his pocket and secured it in front the book. He knew the drill.

He opened the app to send an untraceable, codified message. He typed.

‘Red Force. C.’

Jongdae stared at the words on the screen. What would Baekhyun make of this? He didn’t know. He had been expecting electrical blueprints, not this. Not ‘Red Force’ and whatever the hell it was meant to be.

All Jongdae could hope for, was that Baekhyun wouldn’t ask him to move yet. They needed the blueprints -if they wanted to win, they would need the damn blueprints. And Jongdae wasn’t going to risk his life unless he was sure they’d be able to save him.

Jongdae furiously shook his head to force the thought out. “First things first,” he spoke to himself, and pressed to send the message.

Done. He had sent it. Now all he had to do was wait.

The storm had spread out, overcasting the city with darkness. He stood up and stepped out from the protection of the tower. He relished on how the electrically charged air tickled his skin, filling him with a warm buzz until his core felt all fuzzy.

The rain would begin to fall and soon the lightning would strike.

 

 

-March 24th, 2015. Paris 15:10.

 

Baekhyun woke up abruptly when he felt his crotch buzz.

With a grunt, he rolled over on his back and reached down to pull his phone out of his pocket -he had been so exhausted that he had fallen asleep on top of his bed, without even bothering to take his clothes off.

Baekhyun rubbed his eyes to get rid of the drowsiness. He forced his right eye open to read the text.

‘Red Force. C.’

Baekhyun frowned. He forced his left eye open, the message read the same. He blinked a few times to clear his sight, the message still read the same.

“The ?” he mumbled and then dropped down, face first against the mattress.

Red Force. The is Red Force supposed to mean? He wondered and tried to recall if he had ever heard about it before.

Baekhyun lay there for a few minutes, pretending to be dead to the world since he did not want to deal with reality yet. He grabbed his phone again -the ephemeral message had already auto-deleted itself. Baekhyun sent his own message.

‘Pawn b b3. B.’

After checking the time, he realized he had slept a little under five hours. He pushed himself up off the bed and hurried out of his room.

Junmyeon’s next dose should have been an hour ago.

He didn’t manage to get far down the corridor, because Jongin decided to appear right in front of him, causing them to bump into each other.

“Sorry,” Jongin mumbled as he rubbed his sore side. “What's the hurry?”

“Junmyeon needs his pain meds,” he quickly answered.

“Chill, Mama already gave him a dose.”

“Oh, good,” he sighed in relief.

“Hyung, you should, um, shower,” Jongin said while scrunching his nose.

Baekhyun frowned and raised an arm to take a whiff of his body odor -he reeked of sweat and saltwater, and something he couldn’t quite distinguish. He pulled his shirt off and smelled it again. It was something acidic, like a perfume gone bad.

“Gross,” Jongin muttered with distaste, and then left him alone in the corridor.

 Baekhyun didn't bother putting his shirt back on. He just turned back to his room, his head bobbing -it still felt heavy from sleep.

In the ensuite bathroom, he washed his face with cold water to fully wake himself up. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, and didn’t even feel a speck of surprise that he looked like . Hair disheveled and greasy, eyes dark and swollen, cheeks sunken in.

He looked like how he felt: weak.

Baekhyun couldn’t let himself dwindle, not now. The game hadn’t even started yet, it was only the preparatory stage. It was too soon to be making mistakes. He thought. Too soon to be feeling tired and useless. He was lacking focus, he wasn’t being strong enough.

He needed to be strong.

Baekhyun slapped his face with both palms. “Focus,” he muttered to himself, as he rubbed his skin to ease the sting. “Focus. This isn’t a ing game. It’s their lives, goddamnit.”

He huffed and let his arms fall down to grasp onto the sink. He thought of Jongin’s tears when he had found them. He thought of Junmyeon passed out inside the tank. He thought of how furious and disappointed Mama had been at him. He thought of Taeyeon.

He frowned at the familiar ache in his gut and placed his hand over his abs, right where he believed the pain was. “You can’t keep feeling this guilty,” he whispered to himself. “It’s holding you back.”

He thought of Moon and knew exactly what he would’ve said to him.

“Man the up,” he gritted his teeth. He tensed his abdominal muscles and then punched his gut. “Man the up,” he repeated the action, turning the ache into a dull numbness.

He needed to be strong, both physically and mentally. He needed to force himself to change and become stronger for his group, not just a pillar to keep them standing, but to become the strongest rook -the heaviest piece that kept upright in spite of the wreckage.

Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Junmyeon. His friends were struggling. They all were going to struggle, and he knew he couldn’t keep beating himself down with guilt. He couldn’t let himself falter after every mistake, worrying did no good.

He needed to stop being so ing weak.

And most importantly, he needed to come up with a decent excuse to explain himself to Mama.

He searched inside the medical cabinet for his Adderall and swallowed a pill. Then he switched his jeans for sweatpants, laced on some running shoes, grabbed his phone charger, earphones and headed to the kitchen for a quick breakfast fix.

After two cups of coffee and a mediocre excuse of a meal, Baekhyun went to the training room and hopped on the only treadmill they had. It was situated at the back, close to a power socket. So Baekhyun, using an extension cord, took advantage of charging his phone while running for a couple of hours.

Running without breaks was the best way for him to build up stamina and mental strength. Zitao’s mediation, running was the key to mental focus.

Baekhyun put the same song on repeat, listening to it over and over again until he couldn’t distinguish the beginning from the end. He struggled to keep his pace at first, because his restless mind kept wandering and worrying about everything and everyone around him. But then he focused on his breathing pattern and forced his legs to move. Keep pushing forward, he chanted in his head.

His mind gradually zeroed in on his body and soon nothing in the world existed but Baekhyun on the treadmill, pushing his weight forward, one step at a time.

He visualized himself running along the Seine river -just like he had done many times while living in Paris. He pictured the man-made lake, La Villette, that was just in front of his apartment, which was where he would always start. He’d go down from there, to run beside Saint-Martin Canal. Then he’d turn to cross The Republic Square and keep going right until he’d reach Beaubourg Street, that would take him all the way down to the Seine, right were the Island of the City would be. He’d run alongside the Seine, starting by Notre-Dame bridge, heading west, first passing by the Louvre, then the Tuileries Gardens, then the Concord Square, and after passing the Grand Palace, he would cross Alma bridge to get to the other side of the river. He’d continue running west, watching the Eiffel Tower grow taller as he got closer, and then he’d finally stop at feet of the tower, in Champ de Mars park.

Ten kilometers from his apartment to the Eiffel Tower, and then ten kilometers back.

He remembered how he loved watching the sunset while running towards the Eiffel Tower. It was such a daring and invigorating view, the sight of red taking over the sky, would make him imagine that he was running out of time and urge him to reach the tower before nightfall.

When he had started to take up the habit of running, he would always begin to feel tired between kilometers seven and eight. That was when he would meet his own version of a runner’s wall. His legs would feel numb and heavy as if his energy had been out of him, reducing his strength to nothing as the sky turned red.

Baekhyun froze at the thought -which was the worst time and place to stop. At a speed of ten kilometers per hour, the belt of the treadmill threw him off, making him him fall backwards and collide with the ground.

He felt his earphones being pulled off, “Baekhyun? Baekhyun?” He felt cold hands helping him upright. “Dude, what the hell  happened?”

“Hyung?” Baekhyun rasped, barely getting his voice out.

“Yeah. Are you okay?” Minseok asked with concern.

Baekhyun shook his head no, unable to find his voice. He didn’t know if it was because of the fall, or because of what caused it, but Baekhyun couldn’t snap out of his daze.

“Come on,” Minseok said and hauled him to his feet.

He guided Baekhyun to sit on the bench press, then went to pick up a water bottle and a towel from the small storage inside the room. Minseok wetted the towel and patted Baekhyun’s face and neck to cool him off.

“What happened, Baek?” Minseok asked as he brushed Baekhyun’s black bangs out of the way, and patted his forehead. “One second you were all focused, in the zone, and then the next, gone.”

“I just...couldn’t move,” he mumbled, looking up at the other.

“Did you drink any water before running?”

“I drank coffee.”

“Idiot,” Minseok chuckled and handed him the water bottle.

“Thanks,” he muttered before gulping down half of the water.

“Dehydration isn’t a joke, Baek,” Minseok scolded him with a light tone, draping the towel around Baekhyun’s neck. “Does anything hurt?”

“My lower back is killing me.”

Minseok moved to sit behind him on the bench. Baekhyun could still see the elder through their reflection on the mirrored wall in front of them.

“Here?” Minseok asked when he placed his hand against Baekhyun’s spine.

“A little lower-ah! ,” he gasped out.

“Yeah, it’s swollen,” Minseok commented.

Baekhyun felt Minseok’s hand become colder against his sore spot.

“Here too,” Baekhyun said, pointing at his left side. Minseok placed his other right above Baekhyun’s hip, reducing the swelling with his cold touch. “This is a lovely sight,” Baekhyun commented amused.

Minseok finally looked up to see their reflection. Baekhyun sitting in front, all sweaty  and shirtless, while Minseok sat behind him, with his left hand on Baekhyun’s waist.

Minseok chuckled and shook his head. “You lil’ .”

“What were you doing here, hyung?”

“I was looking for you,” he shrugged. “But you completely ignored me, so I stayed here for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you were too focused to notice me.” Minseok shifted his hand on Baekhyun’s lower back, causing an involuntary shiver run down the younger one’s spine. “It was kind of amazing to see you like that.”

“Are you falling for my charms, hyung?” Baekhyun grinned teasingly.

Minseok snorted. “Do your charms consist of smelling like too?”

Baekhyun’s grin shifted to a scowl. “You’re mean.”

“I’m honest. You smell so bad,” Minseok laughed.

“I’ll shower,” he grumbled.

Minseok hummed in agreement. “What was this place?” he asked, cleary having noticed a few machines and equipment covered with plastic sheets, much like the ones in the lab.

“Here? This used to be a storage room for some lab equipment,” Baekhyun explained, tensing up when Minseok moved his ice-for-hands. “I figured we’d need a place to train and work out. So I moved a lot of into the lab. That’s, um, the main reason why it’s so cluttered over there.”

“Did you know we’d run into trouble?” Minseok asked, hinting a little suspicion. “Is that why you kept training?”

Baekhyun frowned, more in wonder than affronted. “We’ve always been training, hyung, since the trials. Even if we didn’t know what for.”

“True, we did practice a lot,” Minsok said, hand pressing on Baekhyun’s lower back. “But that was for the boggers, and you’ve never been part of the group trials.”

Baekhyun shrugged without moving much. “I confronted the boggers too. I just didn’t get to make a habit out of it.”

Minseok frowned and Baekhyun gasped when the other pressed a little harder. “Did you know about the hybrids?” Minseok questioned, looking straight at him through the mirror.

“No,” he admitted. “I didn’t know until Chanyeol was attacked.” He paused, expecting Minseok to react at the mention of Chanyeol, but he didn’t. “Hyung, Chanyeol-”

“I know,” Minseok cut in. “He was attacked in Mexico and escaped to the States, where your agent is looking for him. Right?” Baekhyun nodded yes. “Have you heard from any of them?”

“No,” he answered without missing a beat. “I…” Baekhyun looked down at his hands. “I hope he’s alright.”

“I hope so too,” Minseok said softly while carefully soothing his side.

Baekhyun looked back up to the mirror and saw Minseok offer an empathetic smile, that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He could tell Minseok was worried, despite trying to comfort him.

“Did she know about the hybrids?” Minseok asked after a moment. Baekhyun didn’t answer. Minseok narrowed his gaze at him. “Baek, did Mama know?”

“She...She knew them as an old project that was based on her experiments,” he confessed, maintaining eye contact through the mirror. “But the hybrids weren’t her project, it was someone else’s. She didn’t know that they still had them.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yes. She wasn’t lying, hyung,” Baekhyun said soberly. “I could tell she wasn’t lying.”

Minseok nodded slowly, taking in Baekhyun words. He moved his hand from Baekhyun’s waist, sliding it towards his back where Baekhyun knew there had to be another bruising spot.

“You remember I told you about those ships that went down to the Antarctic?”

“The same ones that went to New Zealand and…” Minseok didn’t finish his question, but Baekhyun didn’t need to be reminded what happened in New Zealand.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s possible the hybrids were kept in a hidden subunit down there.”

“Is that why they went down there?” Minseok wondered.

“Not really. You remember I said something about EX’ACT doing new trials?” Minseok nodded yes. “Well, there’s a French research station in the Antarctic where they got the they needed for their experiments.”

“The tardi-men?”

Baekhyun looked bewildered. “How’d you know about them?”

“Jongin mentioned them,” Minseok shrugged. “So, the expedition south was for the tardi-men, the hybrids and...and Kyungsoo. Right? Or is there more to it?”

Baekhyun shook his head, but then remembered something. “Well, it’s just that, and possibly some equipment and supplies,” he said with a shrug -keeping his voice confident while his mind wondered involuntarily. “The subunit was swiped clean, so maybe they took stuff from it.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they did,” Minseok muttered annoyed. “Hey, Baek?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to Junmyeon?” Minseok asked. “Why was he in Genoa?”

“Junmyeon used to be in Singapore, but I told him I was in Paris, so he left to Genoa to stay close by and enter France at the given time,” Baekhyun explained. “But he believes they were tracked down at the airport and got attacked in Genoa.”

“You think that snake Maxwell had anything to do with this?” Minseok asked.

“How’d you know about Maxwell?” Baekhyun asked surprised, but Minseok merely lifted a brow at him. Baekhyun shook his head, “Jongtao, right.” He let out a breath as he thought a bit. “I think he did. Maxwell knew us and probably knew where everyone under the NIS were located. He must’ve told them that Junmyeon was in Singapore and they must’ve followed him on from there.”

Minseok nodded in agreement. “Jongin, Chanyeol, Sehun and Junmyeon are all away from their respective locations. What is keeping them from trying to find you?”

“Agent Moon cut off all links with the NIS and made it look like we disappeared. ‘Off the grid’, he called it,” Baekhyun explained. “I just hope they keep believing we’re not hiding in the same place.”

“How long do you think we’ll be safe here?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “We’ve tampered with surveillance lines of the major cities and frequented routes. It doesn’t matter what France sees with their cameras, they won’t see us.”

“What about reconnaissance satellites?”

“That’s a bit more difficult, but for now we’ve got it covered.” Baekhyun turned his head as best as he could to look at Minseok. “It might be temporary, but Paris is the safest place for now.”

Minseok let his hands fall between them. He didn’t seem as reassured as Baekhyun hoped for, but they both knew the truth. They would never be safe as long as EX’ACT was still around.

Baekhyun fully turned to sit sideways to face the other. “Hyung, I really need you to trust me.”

“Like Junmyeon trusted you?”

Baekhyun felt his heart drop like a weight -but he felt nothing in his gut, the pain had numbed away while running. He didn’t show it in his expression, but that was a low blow and he never expected it from Minseok.

“Not everything works out the way we want them to, hyung. But that doesn’t mean we should lose faith in each other,” Baekhyun said in a calm and collected manner, making sure to not break eye contact with Minseok to make the other feel pressured.

Minseok looked down to his hands, guilt crossing his features. “I’m sorry, Baek. I was too harsh.”

Baekhyun got the reaction he wanted, but kept his facade up. He reached over to place his hands over the other’s. “It’s okay. I can take it.” Minseok nibbled on his lower lip, Baekhyun smiled softly. “I should go shower,” Baekhyun said as he got up, but Minseok grabbed his arm.

“I need to ask you to do something,” Minseok said, loosening his grip as he got Baekhyun’s attention. “I need you to make sure Mama to stops bothering Daniel.”

“Daniel?”

“The kid I’m taking care of,” Minseok explained. “You know.”

“I thought his name was Bao,” Baekhyun frowned confused.

“Well, it’s Daniel now,” Minseok said. “Can you make sure she keeps her distance from him?”

“Sure. I can,” Baekhyun replied. “What did she do to him?”

Minseok shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“We’ve got a lot more to talk about, hyung.”

Minseok nodded. “Later. Now go,” he waved him off dismissively.

 

Showering had been the most inspirational and mind-numbing part of his day. After that, he knew he had to meet up with Mama, but first he went to check on Junmyeon. Said boy was resting at the bottom of the tank, but this time he was awake. Junmyeon stood up when he saw Baekhyun approach him, and stuck his head out of the water. Parts of his skin were still missing, even in places Baekhyun was sure hadn’t been skinless before -but at least he didn’t look uncomfortable anymore.

“How do you feel, hyung?” Baekhyun asked, and Junmyeon spat out all of the water that was in his lungs, letting it mix up with the water contained in the tank. “Gross.”

“I don’t feel much anything at all,” Junmyeon said with a lopsided frown -as if his face wasn’t being quite cooperative with him. “I don’t like this...feels weird.”

Baekhyun’s brows knitted together in confusion and worry. “What did she give you?”

“Morphine.”

“Oh,” he said deflatedly. “Do you feel like your body is heavy and light at the same time? Like you’re floating on a cloud but it takes too much effort to move?”

“Uh huh. That and feeling sleepy,” he said and then slowly tried to frown even more. “Have you been doing drugs?” He asked with an accusatory tone.

“No, I was doing Yixing. But not in the way I would’ve liked,” he quipped.

Junmyeon grunted as he covered his face with his hands. “Too much information,” he complained, making Baekhyun laugh. “How can you talk like that after just being with your girlfriend -exgirlfriend.”

“Well,” he causally shrugged his shoulders, “She wasn’t the only one I’ve been with, and hopefully not the last.” Baekhyun cocked his head to the side. “Seriously, though. Don’t you have libido?”

Junmyeon -yet again- tried to frown. “Having a drive doesn’t mean you should sleep around.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having multiple ual partners, hyung.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “It helps you gain experience.”  

“Experience on what?”

“On being a good partner. There are needs to be satisfied in a relationship, hyung.” He explained, but Junmyeon’s expression didn’t change. “Whatever,” he waved him off, “I’m not going to let your judge my promiscuity.”

“Why my ?” Junmyeon asked.

“Pardon. Your .”

“Oh my god,  just stop,” Junmyeon mumbled annoyed, hiding his face behind his hands again, but this time out of embarrassment too. “Why are we even talking about this?”

Baekhyun couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, you’re too fun to tease,” he said through chuckles.

“Is that an apology?”

“Not really.”

Junmyeon flipped him the middle finger. Baekhyun leaned on the glass and stuck his tongue out at him. Watching Junmyeon react so childishly to his teasing had comforted Baekhyun in some way. The damage he had done was visible on Junmyeon’s skin, but this moment of foolishness had allayed his worry.

“It’s good to see you’re feeling better,” Baekhyun said while smiling. “Have you been alone for long?”

“No, Sehun’s been with me most of the time,” he replied mirroring Baekhyun’s position against the glass so they could face each other. “Baek, can you tell me more about what’s going on?”

“Now?” Junmyeon nodded yes. “I, uh, have a few things to do, hyung.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon said disappointed, slouching against the glass. “It’s just that, I’ve been thinking about it and there’s something that doesn’t make much sense to me?”

Baekhyun looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

“Agent Moon went off the grid, right?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun replied.

“When?”

“Beginning of February,” he confided. “Why?”

“But Central went down mid February,” Junmyeon pointed out while poking his forefinger out of the water.

Baekhyun, despite being a bit confounded, felt that Junmyeon was onto something he shouldn’t have led him towards. “So what?” he asked, faking nonchalance as he leaned back away from the glass.

“How did he know Central was down if he had cut off ties with the Agency?” He wondered with curious eyes. “How did he know it was Maxwell? Or better yet, why would Maxwell suddenly switch sides? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Suddenly?” Baekhyun asked confused.

“Nothing adds up,” Junmyeon said with a pout -Baekhyun wasn’t sure why the other was pouting, but he had a guess it was because of the morphine. “First Kyungsoo gets kidnapped mid-January, then Moon leaves NIS at the beginning of February, and yet he knew that Maxwell destroyed their servers weeks later. But why?” Junmyeon paused as he slipped a bit in the tank. He searched for leverage, placing his hands against the glass “Why would Maxwell wait a whole month to take down the NIS? And why do it only a couple of weeks after Moon left?”

Baekhyun felt his blood run cold -only Junmyeon had noticed the details. Doped up as he was, he still had noticed the details. Baekhyun needed to be quick to shut him down and avoid having the others wonder about the same things.

 “Hyung, you’re overthinking things,” Baekhyun said, trying to sound calm and unbothered. Junmyeon was going to speak, but Baekhyun raised a hand to make him stay silent. “First of all, Moon still manages to communicate with some agents. He did get to message your agent after all, remember?” Junmyeon blinked twice, and then nodded in agreement. “Maxwell is like a double agent or something, which means he needed to infiltrate in the NIS to steal intel. But after losing Kyungsoo, they ran an investigation to find out how the information got leaked. Maxwell probably knew he was going to get caught, so he ed up Central and left.”

Baekhyun was amazed at the ease with which he spewed out lies, but he couldn’t show that. Instead he only hoped to seem as convincing as he believed he was being. If he had felt guilt, then he didn’t notice it and much less thought about it -he didn’t even feel the obnoxious pang in his gut.

Junmyeon remained silent for a moment, resting his forehead against the glass.

“That does...make sense.” Baekhyun almost let out a breath of relief. “Do you really think it took them a month to find out Maxwell was behind Kyungsoo’s disappearance?”

Baekhyun nodded yes. “He was a sneaky bastard,” he said. “It’s because they did this investigation that Moon found out it had been Maxwell. He obviously couldn’t have known beforehand.”

“So it really was Maxwell?”

“Yes, the NIS confirmed it had been him,” he said, keeping a straight face.

Junmyeon nodded, accepting the information. “But, out of everyone under the NIS, why Kyungsoo?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “His location was the closest to an expedition EX’ACT made to the Antarctic. Do you know about that?”

“The Akademik Shol-something. Yeah, the boys told me about it,” Junmyeon informed. “A fake expedition that ended up with EX’ACT getting stuff for their experiments, the damn hybrids and, and taking Kyungsoo from New Zealand.”

“Right,” Baekhyun nodded.

“Does…” Junmyeon nibbled his lip a bit. “Kyungsoo doesn’t have his abilities back, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “But they didn’t know that.”

“Maxwell did.”

Baekhyun heard alarms fire up inside his mind.

“If I were Maxwell,” Junmyeon continued, “I would’ve given up anyone but Kyungsoo. Probably Yixing, since he was Maxwell’s favorite.”

“I don’t think he would’ve given up his favorite. You save the best for last,” he said without much thought.

“It still doesn’t make sense to me that Maxwell did this.”

“Hyung, I don’t know either. I’m not him, I can’t possibly know why the he’s done all this,” Baekhyun argued, trying to keep cool yet pressing on to convey his words. “I just know facts, and the fact is that Maxwell screwed us over.”

Junmyeon stared at him with an unreadable expression. “Yeah,” he said deflatedly and pushed himself off the glass. “You’re right. I’m sorry for questioning you so much. It’s just that-”

“It’s okay, hyung, I can take it. You were just curious about some stuff,” Baekhyun said, feeling much more secure this time. “You’ve always been good at questioning things. It’s fine, no need to apologize,” he assured the other. “Just, don’t worry yourself over these details, hyung. We should focus on getting Kyungsoo back.”

“Yeah,” He nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“And, hyung, I don’t want the others unnecessarily worrying about these things,” he said with sincerity. “Jongin and Tao already have a lot on their shoulders, worrying wouldn’t do any them good. If you want to talk, I’ll be here for you.”

Junmyeon smiled lopsidedly. “Okay. Thanks, Baek.”

“Anytime, hyung,” Baekhyun smiled. “You should rest now.”

Junmyeon nodded and submerged himself back to the bottom of the tank. Baekhyun waved at him before leaving. Not only had he dodged a bullet there, but Junmyeon had unknowingly given him a good reason to keep him inside that tank.

 

Baekhyun made his way to Mama’s office. It was time to face her and honestly Baekhyun had no idea what to expect, but he at least had come up with a good enough excuse to defend himself.

He found her sitting at her desk, writing onto some notebook. She didn’t look up when he closed the door behind him nor when he walked across the room. Baekhyun could feel the tension in the room.

He sat down on the chair in front of her desk and waited, slumping back into his seat with a little defiance to appear unintimidated and bored. He lazily scratched his neck, noticing that she had a compression wrap around her left hand, which he was certain hadn’t been there before. He changed his eyesight to heat vision and then cleared his throat to disrupt the silence.

She looked up at him, neutral and unimpressed, gaze quickly shifting to see behind him, checking that the door was closed, and then back on him with the same impassiveness Baekhyun was trying to project.

“What happened to your hand?” He asked despite being able to see the red glow around it.

“Sprained it.”

Baekhyun nodded nonchalantly, hiding any concern he might’ve felt. “You wanted to talk,” he said with a shrug. Mama raised a brow, eyes sizing him as she regarded him with discontent.

“Quit the act,” she snapped.

Her attention returned to her notebook as Baekhyun sat up straighter, placing his hands on his thighs in a polite manner. He looked down at his hands, ignoring how they were a little dark and red, he forced them to close into fists so he would avoid fidgeting.

“What do we need to discuss?” he asked -this time speaking in french just in case any of the others decided to try to eavesdrop.

“Well, you certainly don’t need me to tell you that you’ve ed up,” she said without looking, hand still busy writing. “One look at Junmyeon and it’s like a slap to your face.”

Baekhyun clenched his jaw. He felt angry at how inconsiderate she was being, but the guilt and shame kept his head on his shoulders. He had no right to tell her otherwise. He had immensely ed up.

“Why did you let me take the serum?” he dared to ask.

“Let you?” she said almost scandalized. “Let you?” she stressed and finally looked up at him. “I didn’t tell you to take it.”

“You didn’t tell me not to either,” he argued. “You just said they weren’t ready.”

Mama narrowed her eyes as she caught on what he was trying to do. “Don’t try to pin this on me.”

Baekhyun mirrored her look. “You could’ve warned me about what would happen to Junmyeon.”

“You weren’t supposed to use it,” she countered. “I don’t even know how you managed to sneak in and take one from my stock.” She flailed her hand to the side in an annoyed gesture.

Baekhyun felt frustrated that her thermal signature didn’t indicate her trying to lie -he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad one. He let himself smirk to mask his internal debate. “I have my ways.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, “and look at what that led you.”

Baekhyun’s smirk quickly turned into a scowl. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he said dead serious -unconsciously turning to Korean. “If you’d had warned me correctly-”

“I did warn you.” She continued in French.

“You said: secrete something else. You should’ve told me Junmyeon’s freaking fish skin would flare up and break apart,” he raised his voice. “Seriously what were you thinking? It wasn’t like I could use the serum on someone else. It was Junmyeon and you knew this would happen. You knew it.”

“I told you not to. Forget it, this isn’t worth fighting over,” she huffed, letting her hands fall on top of her desk. “I don’t get what you’re trying to prove here Baekhyun, but all you’ve done is show your lack of competence.”

“My competence,” he repeated in French. “You don’t understand what I’m saying,” he pressed on. “You knew how Junmyeon would react to the serum -the serum we’ll need to use later.” Mama looked up at him sharply, finally sensing the intensity in his voice. “We need those vials,” he insisted, switching back to French.

“What?”

“You were right.”

“About what?”

“Red Force.” Baekhyun saw here eyes grow wide as the colors of her face shifted to dark blue and red. “We’re going to need to use every plan we’ve got, a, b, c, d, ing e, all of it. Worst case scenario is gonna go down, and we’re going to need those vials.”

For the first time in a long time, Baekhyun saw worry in Mama’s colors. “.”

“Look, I’m lucky this happened now,” he continued. “Because not only do you still have time to finish the serum, but Yixing can finally fix Junmyeon up and prevent this from happening ever again.”

She nodded and pointed at the notebook. “Already ahead of you.”

“Good.” Baekhyun hesitated to speak, which was never good in front of Mama. He quickly recovered and spoke up. “Also, it was good that I used the vial on Junmyeon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I might not have known what would happen to him. But he moved too early. And now,” he sighed, “now he’s...incapacitated, which works for me.”

Mama’s eyes shined, regarding him with some sort of twisted admiration. “You worried you’d lose leadership with Junmyeon being here. That’s why you didn’t want him to move yet.” She stated more than questioned. Baekhyun nodded yes in response. “Now he can’t do much anything. So your position isn’t at risk, well, until Yixing comes, that is.”

 “And he asks so many questions. With his influence and speculations, I, I can’t have him stirring up the group. I just,” he sighed heavily. “I wish I hadn’t hurt him.”

“Your actions have consequences, Baek. They will all hurt one way or another.” She said  solemnly, gaze shifting back to its normal coldness as her thermal reading changed to neutral. “You remember how uncaring you used to be? During your player phase, before you met that girl, you were so indifferent towards using other people.”

Baekhyun tightened his jaw, not liking her approach. “Yes, I remember.”

“Bring that attitude back,” she said straightforwardly. “Stop being weak.”

Baekhyun clenched his fists and sharpened his gaze. “I won’t be.”

“Good,” she said, but the coldness was still there. “I don’t understand why you didn’t listen to me.” Mama looked at him with an unreadable expression. “What kind of game are you playing, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun didn’t quite smile, but he looked at her with confidence, unwarranted as it was. “The one that will destroy them.”

Mama chuckled and shook her head. “You’ll need to redeem yourself first.” She leaned back into her seat, looking much more relaxed than when Baekhyun first entered her office. “Now, there are two ways I see your current predicament.” She began to explain, hand playing with her bell pendant. “To the eyes of your members, you ed up and hurt Junmyeon -hurt him really bad. There is always room for error, but you’ve made a horrible mistake too soon, leaving a bad impression to your group. You’re supposed to lead them, not make them question your competence.”

“My competence,” he mumbled annoyed at that word.

“They either think you’ll learn from your mistake and never try to disobey me again, or that you aren’t at all agreeing with me and might constantly be trying to go against me.” The way she said the last part sounded like she might’ve suspected the same. “They already think of you as my puppet. The question is, are you a pliant puppet or are you fighting against the strings?”

Baekhyun knew he had to choose his next words carefully. “You know I’m on your side, but I think they’ll agree with me better if I wasn’t.”

Mama nodded, agreeing with him. “You’re going to have to tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

“The truth about New Zealand.”

“No. No, I can’t,” he quickly said, feeling his heart race at the thought.

“Baek-”

“They’re going to hate the truth and they won’t follow me. They won’t follow me,” he stressed.

“They will if you play your cards right,” she insisted. “You’re going to need to win their trust. What better way than making me the enemy again?”

He remained silent and looked down to his hands, pretending to fidget with his fingers as he kept his thoughts to himself. He already had considered that option, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. He was supposed to be the ‘pliant puppet’ after all.

“Baek,” she called out in a softer tone and extended her right hand out for him to hold. “Darling, it’s better this way,” she said, soothingly rubbing his hand.

Baekhyun nibbled on his lower lip and kept his gaze on their linked hands. If Mama had already analyzed this option, then Baekhyun had to hurry up and make his move.

He nodded slowly, showing he agreed with her. “Let’s wait until Jongin and Tao don’t need you anymore.”

“That would be best,” she agreed and let go of his hand. “One last thing.”

“What?”

“The kid Minseok’s taking care of, he’s going to be a hindrance,” she said without a hint of sympathy for Daniel.

Baekhyun let out a sigh, canceling his thermal vision, and then letting his head lol to the side. “Do we really have to get rid of him?”

“Don’t you remember what I told you?”

“Yes, I do.” He said and slumped back in his seat, “But he could, I don’t know, learn?”

Mama shook her head no. “He’s too big of a risk. He’s conditioned to follow orders, certain words command him.” She looked him straight in the eyes, “Baekhyun, he will be a problem.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Do you know what words?”

“No, but he reacts to a sca or ska sound. So I’m still figuring what word it must be from.”

“Maybe it’s just that. Ska.” He shrugged. “He’s a dog right? Dogs react better to short commands.”

“Dog?” Mama furrowed her brows in confusion. “You mean because he’s from Sobaka?”

“Sobaka. Soka. Ska.” Baekhyun tried out the words with a Russian accent. Mama remained silent, staring at him slightly shocked. “What?”

“Suka.” She said with a perfect Russian pronunciation and Baekhyun grimaced -he knew what that word meant.

“Just let me handle this,” Baekhyun said as he stood up from the chair. “Minseok’s already bothered by how you treated Daniel earlier.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, waving him off dismissively.  “Just remember don’t be-”

“Harsh?” he cut in with amusing disbelief.

Mama shook her head. “Weak. Don’t be weak, Baekhyun.”

“I’m not,” he asserted and made to leave, but then he turned around. “I almost forgot,” he said with a smirk. “Minseok says to off.”

Mama laughed wholeheartedly as he left her office.  

 

Baekhyun was at the kitchen finishing up a serving of cold bibimbap with an extra portion of kimchi when Minseok found him.

“Where’s the good stuff?” Minseok asked as soon as he walked inside.

Baekhyun wordlessly pointed towards a bottom cabinet, closest to the second fridge. The kitchen wasn’t decorated, it was plain and simple, and with lots of storage space. Extra pantries, extra refrigerator and more industrials freezers than what Baekhyun deemed necessary.

Minseok took a seat in front of him, placing a bottle of vodka and two tall shot glasses.

Baekhyun quirked a smile after swallowing down the last of his food. “Trying to get me drunk, hyung?” he asked amused.

“How else am I supposed to make you spill the beans?” Minseok quipped as he opened the bottle.

“You wish,” Baekhyun laughed and got rid of his dirty dishes.

He had spent many drunken nights, and even though his tolerance was low, even though he became louder and wild, he never talked about the things he knew he shouldn’t. Alcohol had different effects on him, spilling out secrets wasn’t one of them.  

He grabbed the dried squid from the pantry and went back to his seat. Minseok handed him his shot glass. “What do we drink to first?”

“To our health of course,” Minseok said, as if it was obvious.

“Of course,” snorted Baekhyun.

“To your health,” Minseok said in Russian, raising his glass with his right hand.

“To your health,” Baekhyun cheered in French, raising his glass with his right hand and supporting his arm with his left hand.

Baekhyun chucked down the drink in one shot while making eye contact with Minseok. He hissed as he felt the alcohol burning the inside of his throat.

“Yah,” Minseok exclaimed in fake annoyance. “What’s with those manners?”

Baekhyun rubbed his head as he forced in a deep breath to soothe the burning sensation. “We’re in international lands,” he whined.

“I’m your hyung, you punk,” Minseok muttered with a lazy grin and bit off a dried squid. “Did you talk with her?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun nodded for good measure. “She won’t bother him anymore. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” He said and broke a piece of squid.

“What did she do to him?”

“She suggested looking into his brain to see if he reacts like a human or an animal towards fear,” Minseok explained bitterly.

Baekhyun blinked in surprise -though, he knew he shouldn’t have felt surprised at all. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

“Oh,” Minseok mimicked and raised the bottle to pour their drinks. “I didn’t like her probing and examining Daniel like a new pet to play with. Actually, I don’t like her at all.”

“You don’t have to like her. Just tolerate her enough to work with,” Baekhyun said as he held his glass with both hands. “What do we drink to now?”

“To our reunion,” Minseok cheered in Russian while raising his glass.

“Cheers,” Baekhyun chimed, and this time he looked away, covering his cup with his left hand as he downed the drink.

“That’s more like it,” Minseok chuckled as Baekhyun hissed again.

“God, this is strong,” he grunted and rubbed his throat. “Don’t you feel a burn at all?” he asked in disbelief.

“Nope.”

“Damn,” Baekhyun exclaimed and reached for some squid to munch on. “I talked with Junmyeon.”

“Yeah?”

“I think he’s aual.”

“Wha-what?” Minseok tried to ask as he fell into a laughing and coughing fit.

Baekhyun chuckled, already feeling giddy inside. “Or maybe he’s demiual. Or whatever else there is these days, it’s hard to keep up.”

“What about aromantic?” Minseok suggested.

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun said, leaning his weight forward on his elbow so he could lazily support his chin on his hand. “He didn’t answer when I asked him about his drive.”

“Jesus,” Minseok exclaimed, covering his face with his hands.

“What?” Baekhyun whined. “I said he didn’t answer. Jeez.”

“Why do you care?” he asked.

Baekhyun exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders. “It’s fun teasing him.”

Minseok shook his head while chuckling. He played with the tall shot glass on the table. “What really happened to Junmyeon, Baek?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean,” Minseok blew out some air. “Why’d he end up like that?”

“Oh,” Baekhyun deflated. It was time to set the game in motion. “I failed her test,” he muttered while pouting.

“You what?”

“Failed her test,” he sighed dramatically, pretending to be more tipsy than he really felt. “She was trying to test my, my trust by, uhh, reverse psy-psychology.” He hiccuped, for real.

“Can you tell me how?” he asked with eagerness.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he closed his eyes. “She wanted to test my trust, obedience. Said: don’t use the serum, Baekhyun, It’s not ready, Baekhyun. But we all know what I did.”

“You used the serum.”

“Uh huh,” he nodded. “And now Jun’s skin’s all messed up.”

“.”

“That’s not all,” he raised his forefinger. “She thought he’d take away influence, group influence. Now he can’t.”

Minseok’s expression darkened. “Baek, apart from Jongin and Zitao, do we really need her?” he asked dead serious.

Baekhyun thought about answering with a resounding no, but he had better plans ahead. “Lu Han needs her,” he whispered.

“Lu Han?” Minseok asked surprised.

“Shh,” he hurriedly hushed him. He checked their surrounding even though he knew no one else was around. “I’ve got a plan, hyung. But I can’t tell you here,” he whispered in a conspiring manner.

“As long as it doesn’t involve going back to the UK, I’m on board,” Minseok quietly said back.

Baekhyun chuckled. “Why don’t you like the UK?” he asked.

Minseok shrugged and picked up the vodka again. “I hate how everything is opposite over there. Daniel almost got ran over twice because I kept forgetting to teach him to look right and then left.”

Baekhyun chortled as he accepted his drink. “To what now?”

“To our friendship,” Minseok cheered in Russian again.

“Friendship!” Baekhyun exclaimed loudly with a ty Russian pronunciation.

“Shh,” Minseok shushed him and Baekhyun giggled.

Baekhyun managed to drink half his shot and was about to place the glass down, but Minseok reached out his hand to push against Baekhyun’s and keep the cup held up off the table.

“It’s rude not to finish your shot, Baek,” Minseok said while pushing him to finish his drink. “Come on, don’t wuss out.”

“You’re gonna end me,” Baekhyun muttered before -respectfully- shooting back the rest of his vodka. “,” he wheezed. “This is pure ethanol, holy ,” he gasped. “How much alcohol does it have?”

Minseok checked the label. “Seventy-five percent.”

“That’s like four times soju, ,” he leaned his head into his hands, trying to massage the dizziness away.

“Yeah, but vodka doesn’t give you a gruesome hangover like soju. Soju has weird congeners and preservatives that get you faced after two bottles,” Minseok casually explained, munching on dried squid every now and then.

“I beg to differ.”

“Baek, you got drunk after one bottle of soju once.”

“I still beg to differ,” Baekhyun mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

Minseok offered him some squid, he accepted it.

“Where’s Jongdae?” Minseok asked. “You promised you’d tell me once I get here.”

Baekhyun gestured for Minseok to lean closer to him. “Almaty,” Baekhyun whispered to Minseok’s ear while cupping his mouth with his hands.

“Why?” Minseok whispered back.

“Closer to the enemy,” he said.

“What-”

“Shh,” Baekhyun press his forefinger onto Minseok’s lips. “That’s all I can say for now.”

Minseok frowned disappointed, but didn’t argue against him. “Is he alright?”

Baekhyun nodded yes, but immediately regretted doing that because of the dizzy spell it caused. He held his head with his hands to try to make the room stop spinning. Minseok offered him squid again, and Baekhyun knew he should take it, even though he didn't feel like eating anything anymore.

“What’s your deal meddling with Lu Han and Sehun?” Minseok asked. “Are you genuinely concerned about them or you’ve got something under your sleeve?”

“Genuinely concerned,” he honestly replied. “If there’s a chance to keep a, keep a couple within, in this group, then I’ll try to help them. You and I both know how hard it is.”

“Yeah,” Minsek sighed. “That we do.”

“How’d it happen?”

“What?”

“You never told me how,” Baekhyun insisted.

“Oh,” Minseok crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s because I didn’t want Daniel to listen. He hears everything, you know.”

“Where’s he now?” Baekhyun frowned when he moved his head too fast.

“Sleeping.”

“Then he won’t hear us,” Baekhyun said. “Please,” he childishly begged. “Please, hyung, tell me.”

Minseok sighed and picked up the bottle to pour himself a drink. Baekhyun held up his glass with both hands expectantly. “No, you sit this one out,” Minseok said, placing the bottle away from Baekhyun.

“How am I supposed to cheer with ya?” he asked with a pout.

“To love, heartbreak and loving again,” Minseok spoke in Russian and downed his drink like it was water.

Baekhyun had no idea what Minseok said because of his drunken haze, but he managed to understand love. “To Hunhan!” he cheered with his empty glass.

“Hunhan?” Minseok chortled.

“It’s cute,” Baekhyun defended.

“Mhmm,” Minseok agreed.

Baekhyun stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak -or more like waiting for the right moment to pester him to speak.

“It happened the same time I met Daniel,” Minseok said solemnly. “I never adapted well to trying to live a normal life. I’m just not made for it.” He looked over at Baekhyun with a humorless smile. “I became some sort of a, I don’t know, honorary agent?” he shrugged. “The NSB let me train with them and go on missions. It was like I was part of a team.”

“You an agent?” Baekhyun asked surprised.

“Yeah, I told you this before…I think.”

“Right now, I think not,” he giggled.

Minseok chuckled. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Anyway. I was an agent-”

“Honorary agent,” Baekhyun supplied.

“Yes, honorary agent. And that’s when I met her. Agent Yang Liling,” Minseok said with an affectionate smile. “I met her after my mission at the, the, the sub-thingy by Moscow.”

“Submarine,” Baekhyun guessed.

“Yeah, subunit, yeah.” Minseok said as he served himself another drink. “She became part of my team too,” he added. “I knew dating would be difficult, but we liked each other a lot.”

“Did you guys kiss?”

“Yeah,” Minseok replied like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Did you guys have ?”

Minseok laughed. “I’m no , Baek, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yes. To ,” Baekhyun cheered in French with his empty glass.

“To ,” Minseok cheered amused and downed his drink. “What’s with you and s?” he asked with a raspy voice.

“s are against me,” Baekhyun muttered annoyed.

Minseok looked at him in confusion, but didn’t ask any further.

“So, what happened?” Baekhyun asked eagerly.

“Sobaka,” he answered with a bitter taste. “Sobaka happened.” Minseok rubbed his temple, letting out a suspiration. “That place was a hell hole, Baek. Prison cells built like a pyramid, one above the other. Each week they, those ing bastards, they held survival trials and…” Minseok forcibly rubbed his face with his hands. “They made them fight each other to death.”

“Fight who?”

“The kids, Baek,” Minseok exclaimed. “The, the experiments like us, they made them fight each other. They were just kids.”

Tears began to run down Minseok’s face and Baekhyun suddenly felt sober again.

“Hyung-”

“They made them kill each other, Baek,” Minseok stressed. “They were just kids.”

“Hey, hey,” Baekhyun reached over to try to hold onto Minseok’s hand, but the elder crossed his arms over his chest.

“There were like one hundred of them, but by the time we got there, only eleven were left.” Minseok kept on speaking despite the tears streaming down his face. “Most died during the experimental trials, but thirty-five of them were forced to fight each other to death and only eleven remained.” Minseok tried to pour himself another shot, but Baekhyun took the bottle away from him. Minseok drank the little vodka that managed to spill into his glass. “Can you imagine group trials were you’re forced to kill your friends?” Minseok tightened his grip around the glass. “They were just kids.”

“How did you meet Daniel?” Baekhyun asked, trying to get him to stop repeating himself.

“Daniel? Bao,” Minseok spoke to himself as he wiped his face. “These kids, Baek, they were conditioned, trained to attack under commands,” he said, voice surprisingly composed. “When we got there, they were ordered to kill us.”

“Oh, god,” Baekhyun gasped, clasping his mouth with his hand.

“They were going to kill us, Baek,” Minseok looked up at him with a broken gaze. “We had to fight back.”

Baekhyun fell speechless. His heart ached painfully as he tried to stop imaging how horrible the whole ordeal had been for Minseok. He had never seen Minseok so broken, so devastated, it was too hard to not feel empathy for the other.

“Hyung?” Baekhyun tried reaching out again.

“I tried to save them,” Minseok said with a impassive voice. “I tried to save my team, my guardian agent. I...I couldn’t,” he looked down in shame. “I let my agent down because I chose her life over his. I chose to save Liling instead of him, and now he’s dead.”

Baekhyun felt helpless as he watched Minseok pour himself another shot of vodka -and this time Baekhyun didn’t have the heart to stop him. After clearing out his glass, Minseok continued to retell his story.

“I used ice to try to shield her from this kid that could spit out burning chemicals, but she ended up with severe frostbite,” Minseok spoke with a distant voice, no longer crying or showing any emotion. “I defended myself against the kid, and when I let my guard down to try to help Liling, I saw him. I saw Bao, covered in blood. He was checking if the other kid was alive when he suddenly looked up and saw me.” He paused for a moment. “It was the strangest seconds of my life, but we just stared at each other. I didn’t feel a connection, or like I knew him before, or any of that bull. I just felt like he understood me, without me asking him to. ”

“What happened after that?”

Minseok shrugged. “He did what no one expected him to do,” he said. “He helped me hide Liling inside his cell and guarded us from any danger.” He took in a deep breath. “After the fighting died down, I had to defend Bao with all my might. They wanted to lock him up believing he just another monster.”

“Why didn’t you just leave him?”

“He was the only one left, Baekhyun,” Minseok stressed. “I couldn’t just abandon him, not after he saved Liling.” Minseok shook his head. “There’s good in him, Baek. He deserves better than a life in a cell.”

“What about Liling?”

Minseok took a moment of silence before answering. “I’ll just say this. She’s alive, but not well.”

Baekhyun fell silent, unsure if giving any sort of comforting words would do any good at his point.

“He killed him, y'know,” Minseok said as he slouched back into his seat.

“What?”

“Bao killed my agent.”

Baekhyun felt an ice cold shiver run down his spine.

Baekhyun didn’t dare ask any further. He knew Minseok had gone through a lot, but now he just didn’t know how to react to all the things the other told him. It was worse -much, much worse than he had expected.

Minseok picked up the bottle again but Baekhyun grasped onto it too. “Hyung, no more. Please, no more,” he softly pleaded.

Minseok stared at him for a few seconds before letting go of the bottle. Baekhyun stood up as best he could and forced himself to walk over to the kitchen cabinets to store the vodka away. He walked back to the table and stood beside Minseok.

He brushed the elder’s auburn hair back, making the other look up at him. Minseok’s eyes were red, but he wasn’t tearful, he just looked pretty much out of it.

“Drinking doesn’t get me talking,” he said softly as he leaned down to get closer to Minseok’s face. “You just needed to ask.”

“Maybe it was me who needed a drink,” Minseok said softly.

“Do you feel any better?” Baekhyun asked, hopeful.

Minseok smiled sadly. “I won’t ever feel any better, Baek.”

Baekhyun felt his heart ache and, against his better judgement, he closed the space between them, kissing Minseok on the lips. When he pulled away, Baekhyun watched as confusion settled on Minseok’s features.

“What was that for?” Minseok asked.

Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders. “It’s what I do when I’m drunk,” he said while brushing Minseok’s hair. “Good night, hyung,” he bid.

 

When Baekhyun managed to get to his room, he dove face first into his bed, ignoring the hard, long lump using up half of his mattress and passed out.