Warnings: experimentation, needles

X39 was still out of commission when he came in the next morning, the technicians still trying to fix his broken shoulder joint and looking through his hip attachments. He would normally be annoyed at the delay, would rather spend the majority of his work day sitting around doing nothing with X39, but this time…all he could feel was a sense of dread that began to curl in the pit of his stomach.

Yesterday, X39 had started to say things Sang-hyuk had never heard him say before, at least not here. During the many years Sang-hyuk had been assigned to work with him, there had been slight hiccups, where an upgrade caused him to be unable to record new memories or a new type of skin leaving him unable to touch things without causing burns to rupture with each press. But never had he developed a capacity to speak above the minimal boundaries that were placed, only able to respond to simple questions and ask about things that it could physically see. X39 could not think metaphorically, nor could he interpret beyond the physical.

And yet he had asked Sang-hyuk to tell him a story, a story he remembered Sang-hyuk telling him multiple times before. He had expressed the desire of wanting to hear it, a concept he even now didn’t fully understand. This was leaps and bounds ahead of anything they had thought possible, having long deduced that both X39 and T52 were useless with no room for improvement. It was not a conclusion Sang-hyuk particularly liked, and while he fought constantly to keep the X39 project from being pushed to the side like the T52 one had, it was one that he both feared and hoped would eventually happen.

Because if it did come to light that X39 was actually adapting, actually learning and evolving, the amount of experiments and tests that would be done on him would be enough to make Sang-hyuk cry.

He kept as straight a face as possible as he went back downstairs, Joon-myeon sending him there since X39 was still out. He could tell Joon-myeon was a little annoyed as well, this time assigning Sang-hyuk to help Sung-jae work with the volunteers and administering shots. Feeding the subjects were nothing compared to the volunteers, something everyone knew and the reason why everyone avoided the area as best they could—but this time Sang-hyuk was prepared. He hadn’t had the whole day break away at him until he was barely aware, barely together; he was new and ready, his completely penetrable impenetrable walls up and thick.

Sung-jae was there to greet him, grinning mischievously as he jumped by his side and tugged on his arm. “Did they assign you here again? We’re going to work together again?” Sang-hyuk could tell which interns were new when a few heads looked up at them curiously, eyes searching as they stared at him.

He did his best to ignore them.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, giving a small smile at how happy Sung-jae seemed to be at the news. “X39 is still getting his shoulder fixed, so they put me down here for now.”

“Great! What do they want you to do? Records? Feeding? You could help So-youngie here-”

“Calm down there. I was scheduled to work with the volunteers, so tell So-young it’ll have to be another time.” The childish way the intern nearby averted her eyes with a small, disappointed frown was nothing compared to the way Sung-jae immediately sobered, grabbing Sang-hyuk’s wrist and pulling him to a secluded corner. There were cameras everywhere and people all over in the downstairs lab, but it gave them a sense of secrecy.

“What do you mean? Did you manage to piss off Joon-myeon again? I can get someone else-”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind, really,” Sang-hyuk said softly, placing a hand on Sung-jae’s to loosen his grip. Sung-jae allowed him but his eyes stayed firmly locked on Sang-hyuk, knowing much more than Sang-hyuk would ever be willing to admit. “I’m sorry about yesterday. Yesterday…yesterday was a long day. I’m much better today. I promise.”

Sung-jae didn’t look any more reassured, his lips still pressed into a thin line as he slowly let go of Sang-hyuk’s wrist. “Okay…I’ll help you, I can always have someone else check the Test 1 subjects.” Sang-hyuk moved to stop him but Sung-jae was already gone, whispering quietly to another one of the other scientists. They both looked over to him as they talked, their eyes sharp, and Sang-hyuk felt strangely bare, shifting uncomfortably and looking anywhere else until Sung-jae came back. He really hated everyone here.

“Okay, you and I are put on volunteer duty. Did they say how long you’ll be here?” Sung-jae was careful not to touch Sang-hyuk again as he led him through the maze of hallways and rooms, bringing back his bright smile as they walked. Sang-hyuk appreciated it.

“Just until X39 was finished. It sounded like it shouldn’t be too long, so probably just a couple hours.”

Sung-jae scoffed, opening the door to the room that was the exact set-up of a doctor’s office. The majority of it was just for show, none of the folders or tools actually used for anything but making people comfortable. Most of the scientists, or doctors, as Sung-jae liked to call themselves, at this point didn’t care about the aesthetics, found it even cumbersome at times, but the scientists’ desires were at the bottom of the list of priorities.

Sung-jae grabbed a stethoscope and hurriedly put it around his neck, grabbing another and handing it over to Sang-hyuk. His grin only widened when Sang-hyuk glared at him. “Oh come on, we have to look official! What’s more official than a stethoscope?”

“You do know you’re not an actual doctor, right? You don’t even use the thing.”

“So? It makes us look cool.” When Sang-hyuk made no move to take it, Sung-jae quickly put it around his neck, laughing at the way he tried to flinch back. “Besides the volunteers always feel better when they see us wearing them.”

Sang-hyuk didn’t deign that with a response as he fell into the desk chair Sung-jae went to sit in, a rare, mischievous grin on his lips at the exasperated groan from the other. He snorted when Sung-jae had to go to one of the other empty offices, grabbing a chair and grumbling loudly as he brought it back. Sung-jae sent him an annoyed glare when the chair caught on the doorframe, coughing distractedly as he stopped next to Sang-hyuk.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Sung-jae mumbled, shutting the door and doing his best to look upset. Sang-hyuk managed a laugh as the two fixed their coats and straightened their hair, doing their best to look professional. As much as they joked about it, it really did make the volunteers feel better.

Their playful banter was gone the second the door opened, an older man dressed in nothing but a thin t-shirt and jeans hesitantly coming in. Sung-jae was much more adept at this than Sang-hyuk, smiling pleasantly as he greeted the man, guiding him to the patient’s bed. Sang-hyuk scooted back to make way, his eyes scanning over the man answering all of Sung-jae’s pleasantries with a smile. He looked a bit older than Hak-yeon, the faint creases of growing wrinkles decorating his cheeks. He was a little old, but Sang-hyuk knew they’d take him. They would take anyone.

“So, you have any family?” Sung-jae asked with a loose smile, feeling around the man’s chest with his stethoscope, placing it randomly to appear as if he knew what he was doing. The man had no reason to believe otherwise as he shook his head.

“Nope. Never got around to it.”

“That’s too bad. So, I’m guessing work’s important?”

“Oh yes. I’m always working around the clock, barely have enough time to sleep let alone think about a family.” The man’s gaze finally landed on Sang-hyuk, offering a confused smile as he coughed against Sung-jae’s hands. “You need two doctors for this?”

“No, I’m the official doctor. Sang-hyuk here is just observing. He’s new.” It was the lie they always gave, one that had slipped through Sung-jae’s lips so many times it felt true. Sang-hyuk didn’t even feel offended anymore. “Do you mind?”

“Oh no. It’s always good to let a newbie get first-hand training. I don’t mind at all.”

“Thank you!” Sung-jae grinned, rolling back so he could grab a folder, flipping through the pages to give the impression of working. Sang-hyuk watched him amusedly, seeing how well versed the other was, and was glad he didn’t have this job. He wouldn’t be able to act so nonchalant, so convincing, without either killing the volunteer or breaking down. He leaned over when Sung-jae gave the signal, pretending to be wide-eyed and new as Sung-jae whispered to him.

“Okay, I’m going to prep him and get him to sign the waiver. You get the shot ready.”

Sang-hyuk only nodded as he got up to pull the syringe out from the desk drawer, listening intently as Sung-jae began to talk with the volunteer.

“Okay, you know what this test is for, right?”

“Of course! I always like volunteering for tests like this! The possibility of being a part of the first step towards the future is an honor.” Sang-hyuk scoffed inwardly, avoiding the swift kick Sung-jae secretly tried to hit him with. It was always the same, people not fully aware of what they’re really signing up for, always so eager to become part machine when the chance of that happening was almost nonexistent. But of course they would never say that, and of course the influx of volunteers was always the same.

This man was no different.

“Good! We need more people like you! Now, I just want to go over the procedure with you first, and if you’re okay with everything up to that point, just sign this waiver. Then we can get started; how does that sound?” Sung-jae sounded so excited, matching the man’s eagerness easily; Sang-hyuk paused from inputting the serum into the syringe to look at the two of them.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he found himself asking, and Sung-jae shot him a worried look as the man stumbled over his words confusedly.

“Yeah…it’s just a test to see if I’m compatible—for the study, right?” Now the man looked unsure, his fingers hesitating from touching the waiver.

“Of course. We just want to make sure you’re really okay.” Sung-jae quickly grabbed the man’s attention again and went right into the procedure, not allowing Sang-hyuk any more time to speak. “We’re going to give you the shot first. It’ll knock you out for a little bit, but that’s normal. Once you’re awake, we’ll run the test and get back to you once we have the results. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect!” Sang-hyuk watched the man sign away on the form, a bitter taste in his mouth when Sung-jae asked for the syringe. Everyone’s eyes were locked on that lone needle, watching as Sung-jae prepped it and held it up to the man’s arm. The man didn’t notice the way they both tensed, ready, prepared; he merely offered his arm and waited excitedly, grinning. “Alright, this will sting just a little.”

Sang-hyuk had to look away when the needle was inserted into the man’s arm, the contents swishing through his skin and into his veins. Nothing happened right away, his body slow to react, but it was obvious the moment he put a hand to his chest, coughing uncomfortably, his hand trailing down to hover where the shot had been administered. “Ow, it kinda burns.”

“It’ll do that at first. It’s nothing to worry about,” Sung-jae reassured, his voice hard as they watched impassively as the man’s fidgeting began to worsen.

“No, I mean, it’s really burning. Like, everywhere.” He started scratching at his skin as his muttering turned to cries, falling back onto the bed and rolling around to try and lessen the pain. “It really hurts! Why is it hurting?” It was when his nails started to dig into his skin, his eyes bloodshot, that they sprang into action, Sung-jae expertly pulling out the restraints and locking his hands and feet down. His screams only increased, his cries turning to pleading as he shook his head back and forth.

“Don’t worry,” Sung-jae said, Sang-hyuk holding the man’s head in place, “you’ll get your wish. Your contribution to the study will definitely be appreciated.”

The man didn’t have the chance to say anything else as the serum finally finished running through his system, his body collapsing so suddenly it took Sang-hyuk a few seconds to realize. But even unconscious, his body was still trembling, still in pain, and Sung-jae hurried out to announce they were ready to send the volunteer to the testing room.

To be preserved.

To be kept in a prolonged sleep as they waited to see if he would survive or not.

The two of them were silent as they watched a couple scientists come in to wheel the man out, collapsing into their respective chairs as they waited for someone to bring them a new bed. It was the one thing the higher-ups actually agreed to, giving the scientists time to recover between each patient, between each volunteer. Because there was no one that could so easily go from killing one man to the next without so much as a breather.

Sang-hyuk knew he couldn’t.

“You doing okay?” Sung-jae asked, a hint of melancholy in his voice. Sang-hyuk looked up to see his friend staring at him, the emptiness in the other’s eyes reminding Sang-hyuk how difficult it truly was to work down here, and how strong Sung-jae had to be to continue. He nodded tiredly, a lie they both were used to telling, and Sung-jae sighed. “You can’t stop them. They don’t know, and if they ever found out, we wouldn’t have any volunteers.”

“I know. But…he was just so excited. Excited to die.”

“Yeah…yeah. There are times I get runaway kids wanting to try something out just because their parents told them no. There are so many times I want to tell them no, but…we can’t. We can’t put ourselves in danger just for that.” There was a hint of self-hatred in his friend’s voice that Sang-hyuk related to almost too well, and the two of them fell into a much-needed silence as they waited for the next volunteer to be sent in.

Sang-hyuk was more than ready to escape when he finally got the call that X39 was done, jumping from his chair and throwing down his stethoscope. He did feel bad leaving Sung-jae alone with an actually inexperienced intern to continue working with the volunteers, but he didn’t need much reassurance from his friend to agree he would be okay. Sung-jae had been working here just as long as Sang-hyuk had, and was more than qualified to work down here. He would be fine; not that it did much to make him feel better.

He was not as hot a commodity as he was downstairs, so when he emerged from the elevator no one gave him a second glance, passing by him with disinterested expertise. It was a welcome sight, easily slipping through the hallways to make his way to X39’s room. He stopped briefly to grab the file report from the small slot next to the doorway, glancing through it to see the notes left by the technicians, detailing the work done to X39’s shoulder.

He hoped everything was back to normal now.

He stepped inside to see X39 staring at him, back impossibly straight and hands placed firmly on his knees as he did so. Nothing looked different as Sang-hyuk silently ran his eyes over the other’s body, completely stark with nothing but the synthetic skin that was flawlessly wrapped over him. He really wished they gave them something to wear; seeing them like this always made Sang-hyuk uncomfortable.

“I see you’re awake,” Sang-hyuk said amiably as he sat down and rolled his chair over to X39’s side, watching attentively at the way X39’s gaze followed him. Something caught his eye, the words he was preparing to say caught in his throat when a quick spark appeared in X39’s eyes, a spark he hadn’t seen in so many years. He blinked, focusing, to hopefully see it again, but by then X39 was looking down at their hands, nothing there except the usual empty awareness.

“H-how are you?” he finally managed to ask, extremely aware of the way X39’s eyes flicked up to stare straight at him. X39 had always been silent, and always took in his surroundings through his gaze alone; it was something Sang-hyuk was used to and barely registered now. But after yesterday, every motion, every flick of his gaze, seemed to hold a hidden thought, a kind of realization emerging from a long, suppressed sleep.

Sang-hyuk at one point had prayed for this, wished the Hong-bin he remembered would come back. But after so many years and falling into a steady, safe rhythm of cautious life, he was not ready for anything to upset that.

He was long past the point of wishing for any change.

So, he ignored any hint of free thought, any hint of change, when X39 responded accordingly. “I am fine.”

“That’s good. Now, they supposedly fixed your shoulder, so it shouldn’t pop out like yesterday. We can check that really quick, just to make sure.” He immediately reached out and placed both hands on X39’s shoulder, feeling the arm move underneath his fingers. The motion was seamless, not a pop or creak at all, and Sang-hyuk let out a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want to send X39 to the technicians any more than he had to. He checked the rest of the arm to find they replaced the entire limb, the once creaking elbow joints now just as smooth as the rest of the arm. He nodded approvingly.

“Wow, they did something right for once. I’ll make sure to put that in so they know you’re fine.” He turned to the computer to input the data, feeling his skin crawl from the way X39 stared at him. “I also told them about your hips, so let’s check that too.” He prodded X39 to stand up, watching his knees and feeling around his hips, everything moving so smoothly it was a wonder how those were the same people who messed up so badly. His hands pressed along the joints, moving from the hips up to his stomach, pushing against the flush skin to feel the sturdy metal underneath. Words subconsciously rambled off his lips all the while.

“I probably should let them know how good a job they did; it’s perfect. If I’d known they’d do this good a job, I’d make them replace everything. Though I guess it would be better if they finally finished your skin cover…then you’d be able to feel this, wouldn’t you?” His hands trailed up X39’s stomach to his chest, his fingers brushing over the familiar crease. He forced a smile as he looked up to meet X39’s intense gaze, watching him so closely with something that was clearly beyond basic concentration. He tried his best not to focus on that.

“Do you feel this, X39?” he asked softly, his fingernail catching on the crease. He noticed for the first time that he was taller, having to look down to feel along the crease he used to have to crane his neck to see.

X39 was as still as a statue as he mouthed softly, “No.”

“Oh, okay. I know one day they’ll figure it out, and then you’ll get to learn a whole new world all over again.” X39 didn’t respond to that, his lips tight, and Sang-hyuk hurriedly pushed him to sit back down, overwhelmed. He wasn’t ready for this—he didn’t want this. X39 couldn’t change. Changing meant adapting, and adapting meant they would want more. He had nothing left to give, nothing left to offer—he wanted nothing more than to break X39 apart just so he could run away and hide.

He worried his bottom lip as he tried to figure out what was happening when X39 suddenly spoke, initiating a conversation all on his own. “My replacements; do they please you?”

Sang-hyuk froze, looking up to meet those same hard eyes, swallowing as he tried his best to keep his voice steady. “Of course. You should always have the best.” He busied his hands with the edge of his folder, flicking it back and forth.

“Then will you replace the rest of me? Would that please you?”

“Of course not. You’re fine; I’ll only let them replace what is needed.” When X39 didn’t move, he added, “Nothing’s wrong with you.”

“Do you still believe that?”

Sang-hyuk stopped, looking up slowly to match X39’s heavy stare, his movements stilted as he tried to keep himself level. He had to be. Everything was fine. “I’ve never believed that…” He frowned at the way X39’s brow furrowed slightly, a motion he’s never done before here, and it stirred an uncomfortable feeling in Sang-hyuk’s chest. “I never did.”

In lieu of a response X39’s eyes rove over his body, a low hum echoing through his artificial respirator. “You are just like your father, Han Sang-hyuk.”

No.

Sang-hyuk flew out of seat as he stumbled over to the other side of the room, his hands tangled in his hair as he collapsed against the wall. No—no no no no no no no no no no no no. This wasn’t happening. Hong-bin was gone. Only X39 was left. He was gone. Tears clouded his eyes as his chest constricted painfully, his breaths feeling as if they were ripped out of him with each attempted gasp. Sweat clung to his skin as his fingers dug into his scalp, his knees buckling under his weight, his chest so tight—and before he knew it strong hands were lifting him to his feet. He looked up through the tears to see Won-shik’s serious gaze boring into him, his breath so short when Won-shik held him close to his chest.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Won-shik’s heavy voice filtered through his ears, throwing Sang-hyuk’s arm over his shoulder and helping him out of the room.

He fluttered in and out of consciousness as he allowed Won-shik to take him away, the action too normal for him to think about. They stumbled through the hallways until they finally made it to Won-shik’s office, the place a complete mess as Won-shik brushed a few papers off the spare chair to sit Sang-hyuk down.

Won-shik waited for him to calm down, his arms crossed as he leaned on the edge of his desk. “You okay now?”

Sang-hyuk only gave a small nod, not trusting himself to speak.

“I haven’t seen you like that in a long time.” Won-shik paused for a long while, eventually running his hands down his face and stuffing them in his pockets. “What happened?”

Despite the concerned tone in the other’s voice, Sang-hyuk knew better than to speak too freely, knew he had to be careful with what he said. X39’s behavioral change, his sudden questions, his sudden insistence to speak of before…it would all be over if Won-shik found out. Won-shik had some level of concern for him, yes, but any of that would be gone the second anything happened to the cyborgs.

“I don’t know…”

“Sang-hyuk, you broke down back there. There’s no way you don’t know.” Sang-hyuk looked back to see Won-shik glaring at him, and he just shook his head.

“It’s…it’s not me. X39-”

“Was there another error? It’s always been full of them, but there have more and more recently.”

“No…no…he didn’t do anything. I just…” He let out a whimpered sob, having to take a second to regain his bearings. “I asked him what my name was and he couldn’t remember. I don’t know, I guess I just…after so many years it hit me how much I don’t matter.” He peeked up to see Won-shik nodding thoughtfully, his fingers shaking at the thought that his lie might actually make it through. He didn’t like lying, especially to people who could actually hurt him, but he couldn’t tell the truth.

“You know we’re all trying to get these borgs to the best we can. The updates—you know why we have to erase short term memory.”

“I know but-”

“You care too much.” Won-shik pushed off his desk to lay a hand on Sang-hyuk’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “I told you when you first came; you can’t care about these things. They’re not human anymore. All it’ll do is hurt you.”

“I know…”

“Just because they have some skin on them and can speak doesn’t make them human. We’ve wiped their memories and we can do it again. There’s no point to invest yourself so much.” 

“But they were human-”

“Hyuk. You can’t work here thinking things like that. X39 is just a machine—a faulty one but a machine nonetheless.” Sang-hyuk didn’t respond, having heard these things so many times before, and he could feel Won-shik’s fingers tighten. “I mean it. It’s nice to think there’s something but you know just as well as I do that there isn’t. We’ve spent years with them; there’s nothing there.”

That was true…after so many years, there really wasn’t. Years of their work wiped after each update, those flashing eyes holding nothing but simple recognition. Hours upon hours of dedicating his life where his only gratification was a simple nod, a learned response to lift their limbs when told.

But he was never able to look past the face on the machine, never able to forget that what was in front of him had at one time been human. That he also had had feelings, had loved, had people that loved him. He couldn’t look past that, and he wanted to be the one that would give it back.

Won-shik sighed as he shook his head. “I just don’t want you to feel too much. Feeling hurts, and it will hurt you. You have to forget all that. Hak-yeon depends on it.”

Sang-hyuk swallowed, his voice shaking. “I know.”

Won-shik gave him a small, sympathetic smile, patting him on the back. “Stay here till you feel better. I can send an intern to finish the normal tests until you’re ready.” He headed to the door, stopping briefly as he let out another sigh. It was something he did a lot. “Take your time.”

Sang-hyuk splashed water on his face, the running water fading into the background as he looked at himself in the mirror, breathing heavily. With each drop that trickled down his chin and splashed on his hands, he could feel the overwhelming urge to cry, to gasp and bleed until everything was numb again. He had been doing so well. He’d gone so many weeks, months, years, without messing up. He had long since passed the point of breaking down at the mere sound of X39’s voice, of realizing the depths of his job and what he had to do. He was immune, he was done…and yet just a few simple questions and a steady gaze were all that was needed to pull him apart at the seams.

He was better than this.

He waited a couple more minutes, until his breathing was calm and his eyes were no longer red, before heading back to X39’s room. He didn’t knock before entering, opening the door to find X39 sitting in his normal spot and the poor intern on the complete opposite end of the room. It was understandable; most interns avoided direct contact with the cyborgs as much as possible, unnerved at their inhuman behavior and affectless faces. The girl looked up at him in a mixture of fear and relief, jumping to her feet as she bowed politely. He hated when they bowed.

“All the tests have been finished now, Han Sang-hyuk, sir,” she said, fidgeting as her eyes glanced over at X39 continuously.

“Err, thank you,” Sang-hyuk managed to mumble out, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. She gave a thankful smile when he herded her out of the room, grateful for the quick and easy escape.

X39’s head moved slightly to stare at him the second the door closed behind the intern, his eyes following his every motion as Sang-hyuk made his way to his chair. It was almost too easy hiding the way his heart raced with a casual smile, keeping his shoulders tall and not letting an ounce of his previous anxiety seep through. He had done this many times, had fooled many people, including himself; he could do this. Maybe a little too easily.

“Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to leave you like that. Did she treat you alright?”

“The tests have all been completed.”

“They didn’t make you uncomfortable, did they?” X39 didn’t answer, the question referring to something he didn’t have the ability to comprehend, and Sang-hyuk breathed out a small, relieved sigh. That was normal, expected, and it was reassuring. Sang-hyuk chuckled softly as he turned to face X39 fully, his elbows on his knees as leaned forward approachably. “Sorry. Did she do anything different, or bad, to you?”

“No.”

“That’s good.” He reached over and gently placed his hands on either side of X39’s head, his fingers brushing the tips of his hair and his thumbs resting lightly on his eyelids. X39 stayed obligingly still as Sang-hyuk checked his eyes, following along as Sang-hyuk tilted his head down to check the stitching of the synthetic skin to his real skin along the nape of his neck. He knew the intern probably checked already, but he still wanted to see for himself.

A part of him also hoped to find something, something, that pointed to X39’s weird behavior before.

But there was nothing, the thin, inconspicuous thread the same as always, the small ridges of the artificial spine ports that ran down X39’s back feeling exactly the same. He sighed as he pushed X39 back up, flinching when his hands ran over his thigh.

“Here, let’s get you some clothes. You must be freezing.” He made a mental note to grab some of his old clothes when he pulled out the last shirt from his desk drawer, the technicians never giving back his clothes when they took X39 away.

“I do not feel cold like you.” X39 replied accordingly, immediately taking the shirt and slipping it over his head. This time was better, the movements a little less stilted as he managed to not catch the collar on his ear. He stood up, his knees moving fluidly as he put on the pair of slacks Sang-hyuk offered, his hips rotating seamlessly.

If X39 didn’t mention it again, Sang-hyuk would definitely consider getting the little cracks in his back fixed.

X39 sat back down when he was done, eyes never looking away from Sang-hyuk as he did so, and Sang-hyuk’s hands clenched. This was all so normal, so easy, and he knew he could evade any triggering questions and step out of the room as if nothing happened. He could act just like always, ignoring problems to avoid attention. It was what he wanted to do, what he should do—but he couldn’t. X39 had hinted at a self-awareness that went beyond the years of testing they had done, a comprehension level that began to develop farther than the literal. This was what they had been waiting for, what they had been killing for; he couldn’t just ignore that. Not anymore.

Not only that, but…he had mentioned his father.

There was more than X39 was letting on, and Sang-hyuk had the sneaking suspicion that X39 was beginning to turn that knowledge around to test him.

So, despite every part of him screaming to talk about pointless things, he asked, “X39, I am going to ask you a question. Earlier, before I…left, you asked me about your replacements. Do you remember that?”

That same spark appeared in X39’s eyes the moment the question left his mouth, his everything still save for the gentle rise of his lips as he answered, “Yes.”

“You asked if your replacements…pleased me. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you ask me that?” X39 didn’t answer, and Sang-hyuk backtracked. “Do you know why you asked that?”

“Yes.”

Sang-hyuk hesitated, taking a deep breath as he fought to keep his gaze level with X39’s. “Can you tell me?”

“It was an observation. Your reactions to my perfect replacements were much more positive compared to when there were problems. You also voiced your desire to replace everything.” There was a sharpness to his tone that caught Sang-hyuk’s attention.

“X39, I was happy because I want you to be perfect. I don’t want you to have problems, or hinder you because of faulty equipment.” X39 didn’t answer, a normal response when given nothing to respond to. The cyborgs responding to normal conversation were pretty hit or miss, sometimes responding when least expected and always silent when they were waiting for an answer. But whatever was faulty seemed to have changed this, X39 speaking up after a small bout of silence.

“Does perfection please you?”

Sang-hyuk stopped, surprised, before stumbling for an answer. “It’s nice…and it makes the higher-ups happy.”

“Does it please you?”

“…yes. I like seeing you perfect.”

X39 hummed, tilting his head in a way that had Sang-hyuk spinning. “Then does it please you to replace parts of my body that no longer work the way you want?”

Sang-hyuk was starting to see where X39 was heading, sighing as he racked his brain for the most pleasing answer to calm him with. “It doesn’t necessarily please me. I would love it if I never had to do anything to you. But if something goes wrong and there’s a problem with you, then they wouldn’t be very happy with me.” He tried to give a laugh to imply he was joking, and when he saw X39’s eyes narrow he sighed. It seemed despite everything, he could still not recognize joking.

“Are you curious about why we are always fixing you?” Sang-hyuk asked.

“I do not experience curiosity like you.”

“Yes, you do. You asking me questions to understand my reasoning is curiosity. Demanding an answer even when I don’t give it, is curiosity. You are curious to understand why I am always perfecting you.” X39 didn’t answer, his lips pursed, and Sang-hyuk squirmed. This was all unknown territory, and he had no idea which way to continue without alerting everyone. He was now extremely thankful the lab rooms were not bugged. “You are curious, X39. It is a good thing, a wonderful thing. You should always be curious.”

“I do not care to know. My situation has nothing that arouses any sort of curiosity.”

“If you don’t want to know, that’s fine. But you should still question things, learn how things work and why they are the way they are. Even though you probably are not pleased with the way I take you apart and replace pieces of you, I am here to help you develop and grow. This curiosity is a step toward that.”

X39 didn’t answer right away, processing the information Sang-hyuk pretty much pulled out of his . It wasn’t that it wasn’t true, it was; but the idea that it was for X39’s benefit, that he was here to help him, wasn’t. With the way X39 seemed to be at the moment, telling him the truth would only cause him to shut down.

“I see.”

Sang-hyuk tried not to react to those two words, fought to hide how much they affected him. Instead, he slapped on a smile as he asked carefully, “Now, X39…earlier, you mentioned my father. What…what did you mean by that? Do you remember saying that?”

“I remember.”

“What were you trying to say?”

“I do not remember.” It was clear by the way X39 glared that he did, but Sang-hyuk wasn’t going to push him. Not today.

“Alright. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” He turned away from the heavy glare boring into him to look at the empty report file opened on the computer screen, inwardly wincing. He would have to think of something to put down that didn’t give anything away about today’s session, an endeavor that would definitely take hours to accomplish. He was never the best at writing those things, and purposefully lying in a way that wouldn’t set off Joon-myeon in particular would be difficult. Joon-myeon could pick out a lie with the ease of a liar.

Sang-hyuk stood up, pretending to stretch as he smiled. X39 watched him. “Okay, X39. Unfortunately, our session today is a little shorter since I…had to leave earlier. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, how does a story sound?” He didn’t mention anything about X39 having been the one to ask for it, not wanting to go into too much at once. Just the way X39 was staring, not speaking despite being asked a question he was capable of answering, showed it was already too much.

When he was sure X39 wasn’t going to answer, he lifted up the front of X39’s shirt, opening the two doors to reveal the charging port underneath. He had just picked up the charging cable when X39 suddenly asked,

“I would like to make a request, if it is allowed.”

Sang-hyuk paused, the hand bracing X39’s chest slipping. “O-of course. What is it?”

“My name.”

“Your name? You mean X39?”

“No.” Sang-hyuk waited patiently as X39 worked to voice his question, his brows furrowed and his lips turned down into the smallest of frowns. Sang-hyuk made sure to note down the first natural expression X39 made. Joon-myeon would definitely like that. “I have a name that I want you to call me.”

“Of course!”

“I want you to call me Hong-bin.” The sound of the charging cable clattering to the floor echoed against the cold tile, tears Sang-hyuk couldn’t control flooding his eyes. X39 stared right into his soul as he continued, ignoring the way his words cut through Sang-hyuk like a knife. “My subject number does not please me. I do not want you to call me that any longer.”

“Where…where did you hear that name?” That name was supposed to be gone. It was supposed to have been erased along with everything else when they took him away. Sang-hyuk had accepted that he would never hear it again, never see the same man again; there was no way he could remember it.

“It is a name I hear in my heart.” X39 raised a cold hand to place over the charging port, his gaze unwavering. “It is a name that I hear you calling me.”

Sang-hyuk nodded shakily as he picked the charging cable back up, this time unable to keep up his smile. “It…it sounds like a nice name. I’ll remember to call you that from now on…Hong-bin.”

The small smile that flashed on X39’s face was enough for Sang-hyuk to hurriedly plug him in, a sharp jolt going through X39’s entire body before he laxed, his eyes falling shut. Sang-hyuk collapsed back in his chair as he stared at the cyborg before him, his hands still shaking as he allowed himself to finally cry, the sound of Hong-bin’s name ringing in his ears.

Hong-bin was his—Hong-bin had never stepped foot in this hellhole.

To remember the name on his own, to ask for his name on his own…

Sang-hyuk could only cry at the idea that the man from his memories was returning, at a time when he no longer wanted him back.

It was late by the time Sang-hyuk arrived home, stopping short at the sight of Hak-yeon cleaning the kitchen counter, rubber gloves running up his arms and his bangs clipped back. It was rare for Hak-yeon to still be awake, the other almost always asleep whenever Sang-hyuk decided to finally come home, and to see him wide awake and cleaning was a new sight entirely. Sang-hyuk sighed defeatedly. Everything was deciding to change on him.

Hak-yeon looked up at the sound of the door, an infectious smile growing on his lips. “Hyukkie! You’re home!” When Sang-hyuk gave no response except closing the door and slipping off his coat, Hak-yeon huffed loudly. “You know, I was so hurt when I woke up and you were already gone. You could at least say bye to me, you know. Don’t you know how important I am?  You should at least have the courtesy to give me a goodbye kiss!”

It was clear he was joking, still grinning, but Sang-hyuk knew he really was hurt by him sneaking out earlier. Hak-yeon always wanted to be the one to wake him up, to see him struggle out of bed and eat breakfast and wave him goodbye. It was one of the few times they were together, and Hak-yeon waited for it, craved it, and Sang-hyuk was usually more than willing to give it to him. But last night had been hard, and Sang-hyuk had not been ready to see Hak-yeon’s bright, oblivious smile the next morning. He couldn’t handle the sound of Hak-yeon talking to him as if he was the most wonderful thing in the world when the things he had done wouldn’t even be fit to see the sun.

Hak-yeon eventually grew tired of waiting for him, annoyed when Sang-hyuk continued to ignore him. “Fine,” he snapped, Sang-hyuk’s head immediately whipping around, “go ahead and be an . I don’t have to deal with you and your moods.” He turned back to the counter he had been meticulously cleaning, grabbing the towel and furiously scrubbing as hard as he could.

Sang-hyuk dropped his bag to the floor as he made his way over to the kitchen, wordlessly wrapping his arms around Hak-yeon’s waist. He could feel Hak-yeon stiffen at the sudden touch and he tightened his hold in the hope he wouldn’t say anything, burying his face into Hak-yeon’s neck and letting out a strangled whine. Already he felt the comforting presence only Hak-yeon could give, breathing in his sweet scent and pressing forward until he could feel his arms against the cool counter. He loved Hak-yeon, loved him so much.

He was his world and so much more.

“Sang-hyuk?” Hak-yeon asked softly, pulling off his gloves to place his hands over Sang-hyuk’s, rubbing his thumb soothingly over his fingers. Sang-hyuk’s hum turned to a small whimper, and Hak-yeon’s thumb stopped. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Yeonnie…” Sang-hyuk mumbled, able to feel the tears that trickled down his cheek dot Hak-yeon’s shoulder.

Hak-yeon tried his best to look at him without breaking the hug, his tone full of worry. “Sang-hyuk, what happened? Did someone hurt you?” When Sang-hyuk didn’t respond, he added, “Do I need to beat someone up?”

Sang-hyuk let out a strangled laugh, shaking his head as he pressed himself even closer to Hak-yeon. He wished he never had to let go. “No…nothing like that.” Hak-yeon hummed softly as he leaned back against Sang-hyuk’s broad chest, waiting patiently for Sang-hyuk to gather his thoughts. Hak-yeon knew when Sang-hyuk was thinking, when he was trying to work through the thousands of thoughts tearing through his mind, and Sang-hyuk was extremely grateful. “I just…Hak-yeonnie…I don’t know what to do.”

“What happened?” Hak-yeon spoke quietly, supporting, understanding.

“I met a friend…a friend I thought was gone forever.” He shifted so his wet eyes brushed against the tips of Hak-yeon’s hair, his lips catching on the edge of Hak-yeon’s ear. “He disappeared years ago, and I thought he was gone…but he came back. I…I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how long he’ll stay…he could disappear again at any time and I wouldn’t have any power to stop him.” Just like how a simple update had caused parts of Hong-bin to suddenly reappear, a simple update could just as easily take him away again. There was nothing Sang-hyuk could do, and he would be powerless when it happened.

“A friend…” Hak-yeon whispered, patting Sang-hyuk’s hands lovingly. Hak-yeon had never met or seen Hong-bin before, had no idea who he was, but was supportive all the same. “Do you know how long he’ll be here?” He began to sway to help calm Sang-hyuk down when he whimpered loudly.

“No…no, I don’t. I don’t know anything.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Hak-yeon soothed, Sang-hyuk able to feel Hak-yeon’s jaw moving against his cheek. “If that’s true, then you should spend as much time as possible with him. Enjoy the time you have, that way if he ever does leave, you will still have those memories."

“But what if it’s too short? What if I can’t?”

“Then try your best. Your friend is important, isn’t he? Let him know how important he is, and enjoy yourself. Don’t hurt yourself like this.” He pat Sang-hyuk’s hand again to get his attention, a hint of a laugh already bubbling through his body. Sang-hyuk could feel it rumble against his chest, and he smiled even before Hak-yeon said a word. “Though you can’t spend too much time with this friend of yours. I’m friend number one, so I always come first. You can’t ever think about leaving me for him, got that?”

Sang-hyuk laughed so hard his hold loosened enough that Hak-yeon broke away, his face pulled into an exaggerated pout as he slapped his shoulder. “I’m being serious! You better not ever try leaving me, got it? I’m always first!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he reassured, laughing harder when Hak-yeon started slapping him all over, loving the sound of Hak-yeon’s whines. “I promise you’re always my number one, Cha Hak-yeon. I could never think of leaving you.”

He would never.

It wasn’t even a possibility.

He couldn’t imagine a future without Hak-yeon by his side.

Hak-yeon grinned proudly at that, finally relenting in his attack to fondly ruffle Sang-hyuk’s hair. “But I mean what I said. Make sure to spend time with your friend, okay?” Sang-hyuk only nodded, pulling Hak-yeon into another hug when the other moved to turn away. Hak-yeon chuckled as he allowed himself to melt against Sang-hyuk’s chest, hugging back as Sang-hyuk began to gently sway.

“Yeonnie,” he asked after a couple minutes, peeking down to see Hak-yeon blinking awake, having begun to doze away. He bit back a snarky remark, knowing Hak-yeon was probably exhausted. He wasn’t able to stay up so late like Sang-hyuk could. “Can I sleep with you again?”

“Of course. But what is this, suddenly wanting to sleep with me all the time. Are you trying to hint at something?” His voice was teasing, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively, but all Sang-hyuk had the energy for was to lightly slap his forehead.

Silly Hak-yeon.

He didn’t realize how much Sang-hyuk would be willing to be anything he wanted.

As he listened to Hak-yeon’s soft breathing later that night, he thought back to Hak-yeon's words, to accept Hong-bin and spend as much time as he could with him. He wanted to, a part of him begged for it, and yet…. He wasn’t sure what would happen. He for sure couldn’t let anyone else know…but…

…Hong-bin.

Could it really be him?

It was almost impossible, was more than likely impossible, and yet there was that small shred of hope that he lingered on. He had buried Hong-bin away for good reason, the entirety of his memories centered around the other volatile and dangerous, and knew it would only hurt him to attempt to really talk to him. But his heart beat excitedly at the idea, and he knew this again would be a time when his heart would answer to what his mind could not.

Sorry about the late update. Updates will not be constant for a while, but I promise I'm still writing!

I hope you're all enjoying the story, and again ask any questions if something is confusing or doesn't make sense!

Thank you, my lovely readers~