“You doing okay?”

Sang-hyuk snapped his head up to see Sung-jae approaching him slowly, the lanky boy looking absolutely exhausted as his eyes struggled to stay open, absentmindedly rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. Sang-hyuk felt a rush of embarrassment flood his cheeks as he immediately ducked his head down, curling his knees closer to his chest as he tried to make himself as small as possible on the lobby couch. It was late enough that he hadn’t expected anyone to still be around, he himself stuck until Won-shik finally decided to walk him home.

He could hear Sung-jae sit down next to him, the cushions shifting and crinkling loudly under the weight, and Sang-hyuk curled himself into an even tighter ball. While they didn’t see each other often, Sung-jae had made it his mission to bother and annoy Sang-hyuk whenever possible, always screaming his name from across the room and waving excitedly, disregarding the way everyone glared at them. He poked and prodded Sang-hyuk whenever the two of them had a break, asking ridiculous questions and playing stupid games that usually resulted in Sung-jae scaring the out of him. It was terrible and Sang-hyuk loved every second of it.

Sung-jae waited patiently for him to figure out his thoughts, his finger casually poking Sang-hyuk’s side and snickering when Sang-hyuk instinctively tried to wriggle away. Sang-hyuk eventually caved and swatted his hand away, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Stop it, Sung-jae.”

“Not till you tell me what’s wrong. What’s got you looking like someone kicked your puppy?”

“I never had a puppy.”

“You know what I mean.”

Sang-hyuk sighed as he rested his chin over his knees, staring blankly across the lobby, the room empty as most people either went home already or were holed up in their office. He wondered how long Won-shik was going to take—Hak-yeon promised to make a pillow fort tonight.

“I don’t know…I guess I’m just not used to everything yet. Sometimes I feel like I got it all figured out, and then they’re times when I just wanna dig myself into a hole and die.”

Sung-jae stopped poking him then, humming thoughtfully as he leaned back against the couch, his eyes hooded. Sung-jae was rarely serious, but would always grow quiet when they talked about work.

“There’s really no ‘getting used to it’. If you do get used to it…you’ve probably gone insane.”

“But…I can’t afford that. They expect all this stuff from me with Hong—er, X39, but I just can’t seem to do it right.” When Sung-jae turned to look at him, actually patiently waiting for once, Sang-hyuk found himself blurting everything. “I can tell from Won-shik that they’re getting upset and think there’s something wrong with him. Even though he can’t remember anything anymore, I know there’s nothing wrong. He’s fine. But no matter what I do, I’m just not doing things right.” His voice trailed off as he stared at the floor again, his cheeks flushed.

Sung-jae didn’t say anything for a while, the silence much appreciated. The two of them watched a man tiredly drag himself to the elevator, sparing neither of them a second glance as he hurried inside and disappeared. Sung-jae sighed.

“I don’t know much about the borgs, or any of the fancy stuff you guys have to do. But I do know you, and I know you’re nothing like the people they usually send for the job.” Sang-hyuk frowned, confused. “You have to be confident and strong when dealing with anyone here. People like you, all shy and awkward; they eat you alive. You have to make your voice loud and sound like you know what you’re doing, even if you don’t. Bullting goes a long way.”

“But how does that help with X39?”

Sung-jae shrugged. “I don’t know, but you should try and be confident with it too. It might recognize that you don’t know what you’re doing, and is responding to that.” Sang-hyuk bit his lip, and Sung-jae patted his shoulder supportively. “Just try it. I don’t know if it’ll work, but it’s worth a shot. Stand up straight, look people in the eye, and puff out your chest. Prove to everyone that you deserve to be here.”

And that is exactly what Sang-hyuk did.

--

Sang-hyuk felt the entirety of his soul leave his body the moment he saw Hak-yeon wheeled in, Won-shik’s eyes purposefully trained on the floor as he mechanically pushed the cart inside. Joon-myeon stayed silent as if waiting, his hands folded behind his back until the cart stopped beside him. Sang-hyuk whimpered at Won-shik, looking up from his pathetic position on the floor in the hopes of some explanation, but Won-shik ignored him, bowing obediently before taking a step back.

Joon-myeon reached down to the tray underneath the cart, pulling out a pair of stark white gloves. His eyes never left Sang-hyuk as he let out a long sigh, emphasizing each motion as he peeled the gloves over his skin. The sound of the elastic echoed in the room, bouncing off the white walls and shaking against the one-way glass that lined Sang-hyuk’s back.

“It’s such a shame. None of us wanted to hurt Hak-yeon, or you. While of course we really didn’t want to touch Hak-yeon because of his parents, we did enjoy watching the two of you. You were so ridiculously cute, it was the highlight of our day.” Sang-hyuk managed to sit up, his back collapsing against the wall behind him, the freezing chill of the glass permeating right through his shirt and biting into his skin. Luckily for him, the drugs kept his body from shivering at the touch, helping him stay deathly still as he gave Joon-myeon the hardest glare he could muster.

Joon-myeon wasn’t the least bit perturbed, finishing the gloves with one last snap, his lip curled dangerously. “But of course, you had to go putting your nose in places you shouldn’t. All the good ones do, unfortunately.” Joon-myeon reached a hand out to pat Hak-yeon’s cheek, and Sang-hyuk growled lowly. Joon-myeon snorted. “Don’t you growl at me. Normally we’d just kill the two of you for the you pulled. Did you really think you’d get away with keeping T52 hidden in your home? You didn’t think we knew the moment you stepped inside?”

Sang-hyuk felt all the blood drain from his face, his stomach dropping like lead as realization slowly dawned on him. The whole time…. His eyes flickered over to Hak-yeon’s still body, a glimpse of him smiling beautifully while brushing T52’s hair flashing in his mind.

“Look at our little Hong-binnie, so handsome.”

“Our Hong-binnie is so handsome.”

“But you’re infuriatingly important,” Joon-myeon continued, looking through the tray again and pulling out a small kit, one that had Sang-hyuk attempting to scramble to his feet, only to fall back against the wall again, his body still numb. Joon-myeon noticed and clicked his tongue, shaking his head sadly as he pulled out a long, thin syringe. “No matter what I do, you’re always somehow right in the middle of everything. When we brought X39 back from your dad, you somehow got your fingers all over it. When we were thinking T52 to be obsolete, you somehow got it attached to you. And here you are now, after six years of silence, getting X39 to open up and speak to you when it couldn’t even remember its own name.”

He filled the syringe with a familiar blue liquid, the sight sending rivets of pure panic through Sang-hyuk’s body. The face of a young girl with a flower pin in her hair flashed before his eyes, her soft smile replaced with the image of her face twisted in horror, large chunks of skin gauged out of her arms and legs. That blue liquid had done that to her, and now that same liquid was being held dangerously close to Hak-yeon. Tears started to run down Sang-hyuk’s cheeks.

“We can’t afford to get rid of you, not when you’re getting done. It’s frustrating, really, because in this kind of business we can’t really afford to rely on chance. You’ve already shown the ability to make rash decisions, bad decisions; the smartest choice would just be to kill you. But you’re too important, so we decided to let you live.

“On that note, however…” He shook the needle, swishing it around until the liquid turned clear. He held it up as if examining the contents, letting out a satisfied hum before looking straight down at Sang-hyuk, his gaze hard. “We can’t let you go unpunished.”

At that moment, everyone’s attention was suddenly caught by the sound of a soft moan, all eyes turning to see Hak-yeon shifting, his head rolling to the side. The faint sound of Sang-hyuk’s name was murmured quietly, raspy and small, and something inside Sang-hyuk broke. Hak-yeon was still alive, there was still a chance, and through sheer willpower alone he forced his body to move as he crawled onto his knees, slamming his hands down as he bowed his head until his forehead cracked against the floor.

“Please!” he shouted, disregarding how pitiful and absolutely pathetic he sounded, his voice cracking as tears trickled down his cheeks and mixed with the snot that caught at his chin. “Please, I beg you, don’t do this! I-I’ll do whatever you want! I-I’ll mentor as many people as you want, I’ll work with the volunteers, I-I’ll shut T52 down myself if you want! I-I’ll do anything! Please don’t do this!” He looked up, sobbing as he saw the way Joon-myeon stared down at him, eyes wide and a hint of shock spread over his normally placid features. He could hear Won-shik calling out his name, but he ignored it. “Please, Joon-myeon. Please, I’m begging you. Please don’t touch Hak-yeon. Please…”

Joon-myeon put the needle down, his lips tugged down into a frown. For the first time, Sang-hyuk saw something akin to pity on his face, and another broken sob rumbled through his chest. It was a horribly primal sound, and Sang-hyuk couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. Hak-yeon was here, Hak-yeon was alive, and he would do everything in his power to make sure he stayed that way.

Sang-hyuk shamelessly watched Hak-yeon’s back, squeezing his lips together happily as his fingers twisted in his lap. He hoped one day he could have a back like Hak-yeon’s, with shoulders straight and an aura that made it comfortable to lean against.

He wanted to be just like Hak-yeon.

Joon-myeon’s voice was soft. “You know there are no exceptions, Sang-hyuk.”

“Please, Joon-myeon. I’ll do anything. Hak-yeon…Hak-yeon is my everything. Without him…I-I’ll do anything. Anything.”

“Hyukkie…” Hak-yeon whispered, his eyes blinking open, unable to focus as the drugs slowly started to wear off.

Joon-myeon shook his head, conviction returning as he forcefully hardened his stance. “There aren’t any exceptions,” he repeated, his tone mocking. “There weren’t any with Moon-hyuk, and there certainly weren’t any with your father.” When Sang-hyuk sniveled at him, his body stopping mid-sob at the sudden mention of his father, Joon-myeon snorted, tilting his head as if speaking to a child. “What, did you think we killed your dad for s and giggles? Your father crossed a line he shouldn’t have. No amount of begging was able to save him.” Sang-hyuk glanced over at Won-shik to see the latter lower his head, the blood of his parents still running hot over his hands.   

“Sang-hyuk,” Hak-yeon mumbled a little louder, finally rolling his head enough to see Sang-hyuk crouched on the floor, his eyes glossy as he tried to focus. He could see Hak-yeon trying to fight through the haze, one hand clumsily reaching out towards him, and Joon-myeon was moving in an instant.

“Ah, none of that,” he murmured, pulling out the restraints to strap Hak-yeon’s hands and feet down. Hak-yeon was too tired to fight him, only groaning softly. Joon-myeon’s mouth twisted into a wry smile, patting Hak-yeon’s cheek. “It’s going to be an absolute pain explaining this to his parents. Do you know how big of a pain in the they are? I’m going to have think of a hell of a story to convince them.” Hak-yeon made a noise at the mention of his parents, and Sang-hyuk was crying again.

“Please don’t touch him. I-I’ll talk to his parents, I’ll explain about him being with me and I’ll promise not to mess anything up. I-I can do it. I’ll do it. Just please…please…”

“You don’t have to always worry about making others happy. Your happiness should come first.”

“Remember, you deserve happiness too.”

“That’s not necessary; did you know they never asked once about him? I’m pretty sure they knew we had him somewhere, though I doubt they knew about you. It’ll be interesting to see what they do.” At this point Joon-myeon’s voice had fallen into the background, the sound fuzzy as Sang-hyuk found himself focused solely on Hak-yeon’s bleary eyes. He could see the light returning, blinking furiously as if trying to bring the world into focus, and Sang-hyuk watched it all happen. He watched as Hak-yeon finally met his gaze, his jaw locking when he realized their predicament, and, against everything, smiled reassuringly. Sang-hyuk felt his arms go weak as his lips trembled uselessly, absolutely ing hating himself that he was so utterly pathetic that even when Hak-yeon was strapped to a table, completely aware of what was happening, was still able to gather enough strength to reassure him.

He was so ing useless.

“I never wanted to complain. I made the choice to come with you. You didn’t force me.”

“But it’s hard to pretend to be oblivious, to let you lie to me and pretend I can’t tell.”

“But it’s not like they’ll really be able to do anything. They’ve invested too much money and have bribed one too many of the wrong people to break away unscathed. It’s all sad really. From now on, whenever they come for a visit, they’ll get to see how wonderful and amazing their son will be.”

“I’m sorry, Hak-yeon…I just didn’t want to make you worry about me. It’s my fault; I’m sorry.”

“But that’s my job, you dummy. I’m supposed to worry about you.”

Joon-myeon finally picked the needle back up, wiping the crux of Hak-yeon’s elbow with a wipe. Sang-hyuk’s eyes widened as he realized what he was doing, and he lunged to his feet as he grabbed the other side of the cart and yanked it back as hard as he could.

Joon-myeon yelped as he nearly dropped the needle, whipping his head around and glaring furiously at Sang-hyuk attempting to push the cart behind him, Hak-yeon calling out his name frantically. Joon-myeon let out a low growl. “Han Sang-hyuk-”

“Don’t touch him. T-this is all my fault. H-he shouldn’t be punished for this. Punish me, but don’t touch him. Please, Joon-myeon.” Even when he was trying to be threatening, his voice only came out as weak, the sound wavering and small. Won-shik stepped forward when Joon-myeon only glared, his face carefully blank.

“Hyuk, you know they can’t just let the two of you go. Something’s gotta be done. You ed up too big to just pretend it didn’t happen.”

“But Won-shikkie…” Won-shik’s mask cracked at the nickname, the surprise hurriedly hidden under layers of apathy.

“He already explained why we can’t do anything to you. Somebody has to be punished.”

“But Hak-yeon doesn’t-”

“Hyuk, he had his hands all over T52. He practically showered the thing with his presence. I’m sure if we broke through enough, we’d find him all over the borg’s memories.” It was the exact same thing that had happened with Sang-hyuk and Hong-bin, but he refused to acknowledge it, shaking his head and stumbling back when Won-shik tried to come closer. “Hyuk, I’m serious. There’s no way of getting out of this. Either you let us do this, or you’re going to have to be the one. And I don’t think you want to be the one responsible.”

Sang-hyuk’s entire body lurched at the idea of being the one to administer the serum, looking down to see Hak-yeon staring at him in terror, his body shaking. He could feel his eyes flood with tears, knowing what was ultimately going to happen and what little control he had to stop it. He turned around and grabbed Hak-yeon’s hand, reveling in how warm and familiar it was. This same hand had held his for so many years, had fed him soup when he was sick and bathed him when he was too tired, had held his cheeks when he was happy and pinched his arms when he was annoyed. This hand belonged to the man he loved, and they were going to take him away.

“Yeonnie…” he wept, and he sniffled when he felt Hak-yeon squeeze back.

“Hyukkie…it’s okay. Don’t worry, baby, everything will be okay.”

“No, it won’t!” he cried, shaking his head and shoving his face into Hak-yeon’s shoulder, smothering himself until he could feel his cheek press against Hak-yeon’s neck. Even when masked with the scent of disinfectant and death, he could still smell Hak-yeon. Warm lavender and sweet honey. “Why? Why can’t you blame me? Everything is my fault—it always has been. Why can’t you just blame me?”

At that moment, a heavy hand landed on Sang-hyuk’s shoulder, a slight raise of his head revealing the needle resting invitingly on Joon-myeon’s palm. He knew what Joon-myeon was expecting but just couldn’t seem to grasp it, couldn’t seem to understand what it was they wanted him to do. He couldn’t…. He blinked up at Joon-myeon, confusion overriding everything else, and Joon-myeon’s lips pursed as he gestured to the needle.

“It’s your choice, Hyuk. It has to be done, but you can decide. Do you want to be the one to do it, or do you want me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“B-but…why…my fault…”

“It is, but life isn’t always fair. They’re always going to be people sacrificed for others’ greed. It happens to everyone. We’ve all…” Joon-myeon’s voice trailed off, a hint of pain crossing his face, but he hid it so fast Sang-hyuk nearly missed it. “The cards have been dealt, and Hak-yeon unfortunately drew the short end of the stick. If you really can’t, Won-shik or I could-”

“N-no,” Sang-hyuk cut in, wavering but firm. Joon-myeon waited patiently. “I-I don’t want anyone else to touch him. I-I’ll do it.” The needle was cold as he slowly curled his fingers around it, the small thing heavy once he pulled it away. This innocuous little device held the fate of Hak-yeon’s life, the uncertainty of that fate bearing down on Sang-hyuk’s shoulders with a weight that was likely to crush him. They had been talking this whole time as if Hak-yeon would survive, but he knew how unlikely that would be. Very few made it past the first test, and only one out of a thousand made it past the second. Hak-yeon was strong, but this was something even he couldn’t beat.

Not this time.

Joon-myeon thankfully stepped back once Sang-hyuk accepted, for once allowing him to take as much time as he needed. Sang-hyuk’s hands were shaking as he looked back down at Hak-yeon, his eyes raking over every little detail of his friend’s face. Hak-yeon was so young, still so young; Sang-hyuk had never been able to give him the stable, loving life he’d always promised, but instead was the one that would take it.

This was Sang-hyuk’s punishment, and it would haunt him until the day he died.

“I won’t blame you.” Sang-hyuk blinked through his tears to see Hak-yeon smiling at him, his voice so gentle and full of love. His grip on the needle trembled, a wretched sob escaping his lips, and Hak-yeon’s expression softened. He could see there was so much Hak-yeon wanted to do—reach out to him, hug him, hold him, comfort him—but he could nothing but smile. “It’s okay, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Sang-hyuk whimpered, trying his best to line the needle tip to Hak-yeon’s arm but shaking too much to even get close. “I…this…I never wanted this to happen.”

“I know, baby.”

“I…I love you, Hak-yeon. I love you so much and I don’t…I can’t…”

“I love you too, Hyukkie. It’s okay, I understand. I…I’m not afraid. I knew the dangers when I followed you here all those years ago, and I know them now.” Sang-hyuk sniffled as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his chest heaving like a child, and Hak-yeon chuckled softly. “I promised you I would never leave you, didn’t I? Don’t worry. I’ll always be here.”

“Even if I died, I could never get rid of you.”

“Nope!” Hak-yeon piped up cheerfully, climbing over so he could lay comfortably on Sang-hyuk’s back. He knew how much Sang-hyuk loved it. “No matter where I go, I’m going to drag you with me.”

Sang-hyuk paused. “…promise?”

Hak-yeon smiled, his hand reaching out to interlace their fingers together. “I promise.”

“I love you,” he whispered one last time, gathering up what little energy he had left to insert the needle straight into Hak-yeon’s arm, a press of his thumb shooting the entire contents into his body. The needle fell forgotten to the floor, Sang-hyuk’s hands finding their way to grab Hak-yeon’s cheeks, his eyes unblinking as he watched every twitch of his facial muscles, waiting for even the slightest hint of pain. Hak-yeon didn’t react to his touch, his brow scrunching as if merely in thought—until his arm began to twitch, his lower lip quickly in between his teeth.

“H-Hak-yeon?” Sang-hyuk asked, unmoving as he only stared into Hak-yeon’s eyes. He would never look away. He wouldn’t look away for even a second, determined to stay with him until the end.

“I-it stings,” Hak-yeon murmured, the twitching turning to slight jerks, his arm catching against the restraints. “Hyuk…it’s starting to really hurt. Is it…is it supposed to be like this?” Sang-hyuk could only nod, taking deep breaths to keep himself from crying. He had to be strong. Hak-yeon was dying; he would be damned if he broke down like a baby when Hak-yeon needed him.

He could tell Hak-yeon was trying to hide how much pain he was in, strangled coughs bubbling in his chest as he attempted to keep his mouth locked shut, his eyes squeezed tight in strained concentration to stay sane. He wanted to shout at him to stop, to reassure him that he could let go and show how much he was hurting, but found his voice lost, too lost to even think of words to say. He had seen this happen so many times before, but had never actually thought about what he was doing. As much as it’d hurt, they had all been nameless people, just unlucky ers who found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had never thought about what kind of pain they were in, or how much they’d suffer before exhaustion kicked in.

But then, he never thought he’d have to watch it happen to someone he loved.

Soon, Hak-yeon couldn’t control himself anymore, his mouth bursting open as he let out a mangled scream, his body thrashing against the restraints. Sang-hyuk screamed along with him, absolutely terrified as he threw himself on top of Hak-yeon, clinging to whatever he could as he pressed himself against his chest, the sound of Hak-yeon’s screams muffled and ringing in his ears.

“I’m sorry!” he screamed, tears covering his cheeks as he buried his face into Hak-yeon’s shirt, the soft cloth a stark contrast to the violent spasms that ripped through Hak-yeon’s body. “I’m so sorry!” He wasn’t sure Hak-yeon could hear him at this point, too far gone and in too much pain, and when he felt Hak-yeon seize under him, his muscles taut and feeling as if they’d snap if he waited even one more second, Sang-hyuk made up his mind.

He ripped himself away as he slammed open the kit from earlier, a completely feral instinct taking over as he grabbed the vile full of the second test. He heard something behind him, the sound of a yell and hurried footsteps, but he couldn’t give a what it was. He grabbed a new syringe and dumped the contents inside, not giving another second of thought before jamming the needle right into Hak-yeon’s thigh.

Not a second too soon, as the needle was still embedded in Hak-yeon’s leg when he felt multiple pairs of hands yank him back. All the rushing adrenaline from earlier was sapped the moment those hands touched him, collapsing to the ground only for his body to be violently twisted around, a painful slap across the face startling him enough back to reality.

He blinked up to see Won-shik glaring down at him with the viciousness of a wild storm, his fingers digging painfully into his shoulders, while Joon-myeon ran right past them to Hak-yeon. Sang-hyuk instinctively tried to stop him, to slam him to the ground and ripping him to shreds for even daring to go near Hak-yeon, but Won-shik held him fast, growling his name. He tried to push him back without ever looking away from Joon-myeon, his heart racing as Joon-myeon pulled the syringe out from Hak-yeon’s leg.

But all the power in the world wouldn’t stop him the second he saw Joon-myeon put a hand to Hak-yeon’s forehead, shoving Won-shik off of him with newfound strength as he raced forward, doing the same to Joon-myeon as he threw himself on Hak-yeon again, wrapping his arms around Hak-yeon’s body and holding him tight, sobbing uncontrollably as he listened to the way Hak-yeon’s screams grew louder, his thrashing intensifying as he suffered so much.

“I love you!” Sang-hyuk cried, the sound of his voice mixing with Hak-yeon’s into a whirl of noise and pain. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” He didn’t know how many times he apologized, his apologizes laced with the confessions he had always been too afraid to say, before Hak-yeon’s body eventually grew still, the following silence filling the room with an air thick enough to cut with a knife. Nobody moved, nobody breathed; Sang-hyuk refused to let go, to be forced to accept the inevitable outcome of what he had done. While the chance of Hak-yeon surviving the first test were slim, the chance had still been there. But with the second test…he hadn’t been thinking clearly, so guilty and afraid that he’d wanted to just end Hak-yeon’s life right there, to end his suffering and finally give him peace—but now, he couldn’t bear to accept what he’d done.

He couldn’t accept that Hak-yeon was gone.

Hak-yeon was his world.

His everything.

“Sang-hyuk…” Won-shik breathed, the sound amazed and disbelieving, though it meant little to him. How could he care about anything, now that Hak-yeon was gone? Nothing was worth anything anymore.

“Sang-hyuk.” This time Joon-myeon, and Sang-hyuk felt a tug on his waist that forced him to finally look up—only to see both Joon-myeon and Won-shik staring at Hak-yeon in awe, mouths open in shock. Sang-hyuk’s muddled mind couldn’t understand, couldn’t understand how they could dare stand to look so happily surprised in front of him, until he looked down himself—to see Hak-yeon breathing. He blinked once, twice, one more time, and yet still couldn’t believe. He was hallucinating, that had to be it. There was a reason the tests were spaced a week apart, there was a reason most subjects died. He had given both at the same time knowing what would happen—how could Hak-yeon still be alive? It just… just didn’t happen…no…

Joon-myeon snapped out of it first, immediately grabbing a phone out of his pocket, his serious mask already back in place.

“There is a situation and we need a room readied right away. The subject will be brought shortly. Details will be given later.”

Won-shik held him tight as the room was soon flooded with people, everyone ignoring Sang-hyuk’s strangled pleas not to touch Hak-yeon. He was too tired and weak, unable to even stand on his own, as he watched them take Hak-yeon away, fighting through his tears to get one last, longing look at Hak-yeon’s face.

“No matter where I go, I’m going to drag you with me.”

Sang-hyuk paused. “…promise?”

Hak-yeon smiled, his hand reaching out to interlace their fingers together. “I promise.”

--

His head pounded as he felt himself slowly wake, an attempted groan raking against his swollen throat. For a short time, he couldn’t remember where he was, the harsh lights blinding him as he tried to open his eyes, his body feeling like lead as he tried to raise a hand to massage his temples. But even that was short-lived, memories of the needle in his hand, of Hak-yeon’s piercing screams, flooded his mind. He whimpered at the memory, hoarse and wretched, and he could hear the sound of something creak beside him.

“Hyuk?” Won-shik. “You there, kiddo?” Sang-hyuk gave only another groan in response, and he could hear another creak, the sound of cheap wheels rolling against the floor. “Hey, don’t move too fast. You’ve been under for a couple days now. You have to take it easy.”

“…days?” he rasped, his eyes finally adjusting enough he could crack them open, looking around blearily until he found the blurry outline of Won-shik’s face, the other man hovering over him. He didn’t recognize the room, the usual layout of desk and cabinets replaced with numerous machines and an IV, something he didn’t think the lab had. Won-shik noticed his lingering gaze, chuckling.

“You should feel honored. They had to clean out one of the unused rooms to set this up—it was a mess. No one knew what to do, eventually they found an intern who used to be a pre-med major in college or some .” He knew Won-shik was rambling just to fill the silence with something, both now very aware of the elephant in the room but too afraid to address it. “Joon-myeon has someone report back to almost him every five minutes, it’s ing crazy.”

“Hak-yeon…”

Won-shik faltered, pity clear in his eyes. Sang-hyuk was coming to truly despise that look. “Hak-yeon’s alive. I don’t know what you pulled, but whatever you did worked. They put him under surveillance just to make sure, but he’s still alive and kicking.” Sang-hyuk’s eyes brightened, a kindling of something akin to hope starting in his chest, though Won-shik was quick to squash it before it even had a chance to burn. “Don’t, Hyuk. You know it—he’s not Hak-yeon anymore.”

Sang-hyuk expected himself to break down in tears again, screaming and fighting to demand him repeat that to his face. But instead he found himself cocooned in a heavy layer of numbness, feeling absolutely nothing at all as he only blinked in response. Won-shik grimaced at his reaction, running a hand through his thick hair and letting out a heavy sigh. “He’s already had that stuff in him for two days now; he’s not human anymore.” He paused, staring at him as if expecting him to say something, and the pity returned when Sang-hyuk did not but stare. How could he say anything, really? What was there to say? This was his punishment, and no matter how much he cried and begged, there was nothing he could do to change it.

“…Joon-myeon wanted me to tell you when you woke up. I…they didn’t want to chance anything, since this is all new territory. They’ve already wiped him. He’s gone.”

That broke through to him, and Sang-hyuk shot up, the IV jerking along with him as he stared at Won-shik in a mixture of horror and disbelief. Won-shik flinched back in shock, though Sang-hyuk couldn’t give two s as he grabbed Won-shik’s collar, shaking. “They did what?”

Won-shik was somehow able to keep his voice level, matching Sang-hyuk’s fierce glare with ease. “They wiped him. He has no memories whatsoever. He’s even been given a model number.”

“No!” Sang-hyuk howled, shoving Won-shik back as he buried his face in his hands, running his fingers up into his hair and digging them painfully into his scalp. No. Hak-yeon was his friend, his shining, brilliant friend who shined even in the darkest of times. He was so bright, so human—he couldn’t fathom the thought of that once vibrant being sitting in a room like Hong-bin, reflexes so slow as he waited for permission to speak and questioned the easiest of emotional shifts. He couldn’t accept the idea that he was no longer a person, relegated to a mere model number.

“You don’t have to do it, Hyuk,” Won-shik said, staying back and giving him time. “I already have Y09, but I’m sure they can find someone-”

“No,” Sang-hyuk hissed again, glaring from behind his hands still tangled in his hair. “No one can touch him. I won’t let them.”

“Are you sure you can-?”

“I won’t let them.”

“You’re going to have to eventually send him to take the tests. He’s going to get taken apart and put back together. You know this; are you sure-”

“No one else can touch him,” Sang-hyuk growled, his voice growing louder every second. “Don’t you get that? No one can touch him!”

“And what are you going to do, huh? You think they’re going to listen to you? It’s going to happen whether you like it or not, that’s just how it goes. You know this!”

“No! No no no no no no!” Sang-hyuk slammed his hands on the bed for emphasis, the IV in his arm rattling underneath his skin, but he honestly couldn’t feel it. He could feel nothing but despair and crushing guilt, the glare he tried to give near crumbling. He hiccupped, gasping for air despite nothing constraining him. “He…he raised me. He raised me and loved me more than anyone ever has. I won’t let anyone hurt him. I’ll protect him, just like he protected me. Even if that means I’m the one to do it. Don’t…don’t take him from me.”

Won-shik sighed, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms overt his chest, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “I’ll let Joon-myeon know then. He won’t have any problems.” He glanced up at Sang-hyuk, uncertainty clear on his face. “You know…you’re not going to be able to call him ‘Hak-yeon’ anymore. When you see him, that is. You’re going to have to call him by his number.” When Sang-hyuk moved to protest, he cut him off. “You had to do the same with X39. It’s procedure, Hyuk.”

“But a number-”

“I know, but…it’s for the best. The man originally assigned to X39, Moon-hyuk…he had the same problem. But if you call him by his name, it’ll make working with him and performing the tests that much harder. By calling him by the model number, it distances yourself from everything.” Sang-hyuk glanced up at him, all fight draining from as he listened with the trust of a small child, having no idea what to do otherwise. He felt like he did when he first arrived, a small, sniveling child who clung to Won-shik’s every word. He really was no different now.

“Hak-yeon was your everything, wasn’t he? The Hak-yeon you know is not the hybrid thing currently sleeping in a cell room. Don’t taint his memory by calling it Hak-yeon.

“Maybe one day, when everything is done and he’s given his memories back, you can give him his name. But for now, just call him Y21. It’ll make everything easier.” Sang-hyuk curled his knees to his chest in response, wishing he could shut everything out and return back to before, back when everything was still happy and free. Back to when his biggest worry was whether his parents would fight that morning. When his greatest wish was for Hak-yeon to sneak over and spend a few hours with him. He flinched when he felt something touch his hand, and for a brief second, he looked over expecting to see Hak-yeon smiling at him, warm and calm as he for crying. He couldn’t hide how disappointed he was to only see Won-shik.

If Won-shik noticed, he didn’t show it. “You have time. He’s still got to undergo tests to make sure he’s fully cleaned out. It’ll probably be a few more days; no one expects you here at the moment. Go home, take a rest. I promise we’ll keep him safe.”

Sang-hyuk wanted to snap at him, ask how he could think Sang-hyuk could just go back home after everything that happened, but in the end relented just so he could be left alone. Won-shik took the hint, sending him a sad smile before leaving.

Sang-hyuk was only able to stay still for a minute before his insides started to eat him alive, the overwhelming feeling of being alone threatening to choke him. He couldn’t stay here. He clumsily ripped the IV out, wincing at how it tore this his skin and left a swelling trail of blood, before falling off the bed. It was obvious he’d been out for a while, his body feeling like jelly while floating high in the clouds, stumbling everywhere as he tried to regain his balance. He managed to get to the door after nearly falling over multiple times, swinging it open only to stop short.

Where could he go? Who would be waiting for him? There was no one waiting for him in the basement anymore. There was no one waiting at home. Even here in the lab, there was no one that would welcome him with open arms and let him incoherently spill out his troubles. Standing here now, who did he have?

He kept his hands braced against the wall as he slowly made his way down the halls, his brain running on autopilot as he let his body lead the way. He only had a vague idea of where he was going, the strange looks he was receiving unable to penetrate the fog that clouded his mind. He was only aware that he was moving, the lights almost blinding against the white walls. He could see a flash of red every once in a while, and only after a period of harsh squinting did he realize he was still bleeding.

He eventually found himself bursting through Hong-bin’s door, not caring to check vitals or anything as he dazedly pulled the charger out of his chest. He didn’t wait for Hong-bin to come to, didn’t bother to greet him or even announce his arrival, merely burrowing himself into the latter’s lap and burying his face into his shirt. He could feel Hong-bin shift and crack underneath him, his body slowly whirling to life, and he hugged him fiercely.

He let out a small whine when he felt Hong-bin’s arms slowly wrap around his waist, his touch delicate as if afraid to hurt him. “Sang-hyuk,” Hong-bin greeted gently.

“Hong-bin,” Sang-hyuk said, unmoving as he let the soft fabric of Hong-bin’s shirt rub against his cheeks and catch in his mouth, “would you like to hear the real end of the story? The favorite?”

He felt Hong-bin stiffen, and he whined again. “The little boy, he didn’t actually die. He worked very hard to keep him and his friend safe. He dreamed of a day that he could escape with his friend together, so he was always hardworking.” He paused and Hong-bin waited, never speaking a word and letting Sang-hyuk collect his thoughts. Hong-bin was always patient, and Sang-hyuk was grateful. “But the little boy was just like his father, and did a lot of things he shouldn’t have. The king grew angry, and had his soldiers take the little boy’s friend away. They turned him into a puppet to mock the little boy for the rest of his life.”

His voice cracked at the end, not having realized he’d started crying. “But you were right. The little boy cried. He cried for days.”

Hong-bin hummed when Sang-hyuk finished, his one hand slowly moving up to cup over Sang-hyuk’s shoulder, his touch so reassuring. Sang-hyuk reveled in it, bathed and immersed himself in the false comfort it brought. Everything Sang-hyuk had done to this point had been for Hak-yeon, and now that that was taken from him, he had no idea what to do. He was once again that small child, oblivious and naïve to the world outside of what the people around him could give.

Only now there was no one.  

When there was nothing left in him save for weak gasps, his chest heaving on nothing but lingering hopelessness, he felt a pair of lips brush his ear. 

“Sang-hyuk,” Hong-bin’s voice was sweet, the soft tone that contrasted so blatantly with his sharper features. “The story has not ended yet. Your friend may be changed, but he is still alive. If they do what they must, then he will be confused and afraid when he awakens. He will need you, so you must stay strong.” Sang-hyuk moaned, weakly shaking his head, and Hong-bin placed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Like you had done for me. You must stay strong and help him. He will need you.”

Sang-hyuk nodded only so Hong-bin would stop, letting his mind finally settle as he, for just a moment, focused on nothing more than how well he fit in Hong-bin’s embrace.

Hello! 

Surprise! I know it hasn't been that long since the last chapter, but I couldn't stop myself from writing this. I have had this whole scene planned since I first started writing this story, and it feels almost surreal that I finally got to it. I didn't think I'd get to this point, so I want to thank you all for supporting me! I know this story can be confusing at times with the timeline and narration, but you've all stuck with me until now, so a big hug and thank you to all of you!

Thank you for reading!