The traffic lights still seemed to be flashing as Youngjae’s eyes fluttered open. He stared and stared for who knows how long before he realized that what was before him was the ceiling, not the dark sky that he’d fallen unconscious to.

With a grunt, Youngjae did the inadvisable and sat up, throwing a glance around. He wasn’t in ‘his’ room. He was in the living room, though he couldn’t figure out why.

Later he would make the connection that he had been in need of immediate medical attention and hadn’t been taken upstairs before he’d received it; but for the time being Youngjae’s mind hardly worked.

Youngjae spotted a curled up figure on the armchair – it was Junhong, snoozing softly. He was probably supposed to be on the lookout. A slipup on his part, but Youngjae no longer had escape in mind.

It was pitch black outside and in the apartment, with only slight hints of fading of the darkness far in the distance. There were still a few hours until sunrise.

It couldn’t have been the same day when he’d tried to escape and gotten shot. They had been on their way back in the Ford when the sun had started to rise. Although, at the moment Youngjae wasn’t very concerned with what day it was.

Then he did the even less advisable thing and stood up. Unsurprisingly he immediately lost balance, having to hold onto various objects in the room – the couch, the counter, the wall – to keep himself upright.

He headed up the stairs. As he walked, he needed to keep a hand on the wall at all times for any hopes of staying upright. Youngjae dragged himself slowly but surely to the top floor, and down the hall.

He stopped in front of the heavy wooden door, watching his reflection in the smooth dark surface as he drew deep breaths from the effort of mere walking.

He pushed the door open.

The sudden intrusion at that hour startled Yongguk a tiny bit. He looked up, his expression of surprise quickly morphing into his usual blank one.

“Youngjae..”

Had his mind not been so clouded, had he not been so broken, perhaps Youngjae would have heard the mildness with which his name had been uttered.

“It’s all your fault,” he said, swaying on his feet as he was no longer holding onto anything.

Yongguk leaned back in his chair, eyes fixated on Youngjae’s frail form. He didn’t speak.

“Everything. It’s all because of you. You ruined my life. You – you ruined me.”

“Don’t try to blame your own mistakes on me,” Yongguk retorted sharply. “I wouldn’t have ever tried to hurt you if you hadn’t given me a reason to.”

Youngjae shook his head, stepping forward. Had he not been exhausted and dizzy, perhaps he would have had the strength to argue – not just with Yongguk but with himself, with his own lies.

But this way, Youngjae could only think of the ache in his heart. He leaned over the desk, vision blurring.

“You ruined me!”

Yongguk stood up suddenly and went around the table. While he did so, Youngjae didn’t stop talking, fixing his gaze on Yongguk as he approached,

“I had a life! I actually – I managed to forget you! I’ve spent so much time trying to forget you! When I finally did you just – show up again—You can’t do that, you can’t—”

Yongguk was just in time to catch Youngjae as he started to lose balance. His hold was surprisingly secure, his gaze was surprisingly concerned.

“I hate you,” Youngjae whispered, resting his head on Yongguk’s shoulder. “I hate you.”

As he slowly lost his grip on reality and slipped back into a state of unconsciousness, Youngjae thought how familiar being in Yongguk’s arms felt.

 

Through his loose awareness Youngjae could hear a deck of cards being played with, the smooth sound of each one passing through someone’s fingers.

His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to see Daehyun sitting on the windowsill, bathed in sunlight.

The window was open, letting in the cool air and making the curtains sway.

“You saved my life,” Daehyun said.

Youngjae had nothing to reply with.

“Thank you,” the elder added.

And still Youngjae had nothing to say in response.

They sat like that for a while, with Daehyun playing with the deck of cards that filled the silence soothingly.

Youngjae stared at the ceiling, able to only think about one thing; how he’d lost everything.

It had been on his mind ever since his consciousness had returned.

“I have nowhere to go now,” he muttered. His quiet voice made Daehyun’s movements freeze.

“Yeah,” he said, unsure what to say that wouldn’t offend Youngjae. In contrast, Daehyun felt no need or want to console him.

“It’s all Yongguk’s fault,” Youngjae said in an even quieter voice.

“You can’t blame this on him,” Daehyun retorted promptly.

Youngjae slowly sat up, hand immediately coming up to hold onto his shoulder. “Oh, I can,” he hissed, overtaken by suppressed anger. “But you’re right, I can’t blame it only on him. It’s also your fault and Jongup’s and Himchan’s. You collectively ruined my life.” As he said this, he lifted his gaze to stare at Daehyun like a hungry hyena.

But Daehyun wasn’t holding himself like prey. His posture was relaxed as ever, gaze dismissive. “You can’t blame it on us either. Did we force you to come here and start ing up?”

Youngjae was at least glad that they were on the same page – because he didn’t only have the most recent events in mind. The truth was, all of this had started much earlier, when he’d first met the gang.

“No, but—”

Daehyun shrugged. “It was your own fault.”

“I was doing my ing job! And you just had to come after me for it, you killed my friend—”

Daehyun put down the deck of cards hard, next to him on the flat surface. “Was it your job to Yongguk!? You still have it all wrong! No one’s even mad at you for doing your job anymore Youngjae, cause we all know the drill! You try to catch us, we try to escape; sometimes we win, sometimes you win – that’s just how it is! But it’s your ing fault for making it personal!”

Youngjae’s heart was racing, everything inside of him screaming to attack Daehyun for his foul words. But he stayed still, shaking, trying to stare the elder down but Daehyun didn’t budge.

“If you had actually done your ing job properly, none of us would have cared,” he spat. “You think we don’t know how it’s done? Spies and undercover cops are supposed to go unnoticed for ’s sake, not sleep with the boss! That’s what led to all this, you idiot. Because you made us—” He faltered “—you made us care.”

Youngjae shouldn’t have been able to move so quickly with his recent injury. Daehyun jumped to his feet, scattering the deck of cards across the floor. Youngjae’s adrenaline and anger wore of quickly, accompanied by the pain from the sudden movement; he was overpowered easily.

Daehyun had him pinned to the ground in no time, pressing his knee hard on Youngjae’s chest.

“You’re only angry because you know I’m right,” Daehyun hissed. “It’s time you admitted some things to yourself, Youngjae. And don’t try to hit me again, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Daehyun only pulled back when Youngjae stopped squirming and trying to fight back. When he stood, he saw why the younger had gone still.

His shirt was stained red, the colour spread through the white fabric.

Daehyun sighed. “You broke the stitches. Idiot.”

He picked Youngjae up and placed him on the bed. Then he left the room to look for Himchan.

 

Nearly as soon as Daehyun left the room, Youngjae started sobbing.

He didn’t expect it all to be handed to him so plainly. He didn’t want anyone to get into his head like that, to uncover all of which he had tried so hard to bury deep down.

His sobs grew louder as Youngjae grew weaker to keep lying to himself.

He was in pain again, unable to think, the only coherent emotion being his hatred and anger for himself.

At that moment he wasn’t capable of rolling it all around his mind; the fact that the best friends he’d ever made were the people he was supposed to hate. His mind was too clouded to admit to himself that he’d never felt like he belonged anywhere until he’d joined the gang.

But then again he didn’t have to think about it all so much when it was all so apparent. Everything had already been said and all Youngjae had to do was admit it.

But not now.

Not now.

 

Youngjae heard voices outside of his room and he started trying to stifle his sobs before the door would open.

Unsurprisingly, Himchan didn’t address him when he walked in. He didn’t try to be gentle either, making Youngjae yelp by merely lifting his shirt.

Himchan couldn’t have known why Youngjae was crying but he didn’t really seem to care either.

And maybe he was so careless because subconsciously he wanted to hurt Youngjae in order to get back at him.

But the pain wasn’t why Youngjae was all over the place. He didn’t even mind it that much, he knew that Himchan was angry and he knew why.

He cried the entire time Himchan was redoing his stitches, annoying the elder by the tiny jolts the rise and fall of his chest created with each sob that ripped through his lungs. He truly sounded pitiful and hurt, anyone listening would know that the pain he was feeling was far beyond physical.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae uttered in a strained breath, pressing his palms to his face. “I’m so sorry,” with no specification of what he was apologizing for, nor expecting to be forgiven. In that moment it didn’t really matter, Youngjae was sorry about everything.

And even though he didn’t expect to be forgiven, even though Himchan wordlessly standing up to leave once he was finished was more than expected, Youngjae just couldn’t let himself be alone. He was most terrified of it.

Given the fact that Youngjae’s vision was so blurry that he couldn’t see, he found Himchan’s hand with surprising ease. He held on as if his life depended on it.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at Himchan, he just sobbed, his entire body shaking and it disturbed Himchan deeply that he could feel each jolt of Youngjae’s.

Perhaps it was pity, but whatever it was, Himchan didn’t have it in him to leave. He dropped his bag and sat back down on the edge of the bed. One hand still holding Youngjae’s, Himchan reached out with his other to pry Youngjae’s own from where he was grasping his own hair.

“Stop that, you’re hurting yourself,” quiet and unsure, trying to keep a cool facade but ultimately failing because of the worry that seeped into his tone.

Not that Youngjae heard him anyway, too immersed into his own misery.

Himchan was holding both his hands securely, trying to think of anything else to do to help. In the end he couldn’t think of anything but to hold him.

* * *

His sleep was restless and more exhausting than anything. Once awake, Youngjae only felt more tired than ever, but at least his head was a tiny bit clearer.

He knew it wasn’t over. Not until he said it, out loud, either alone or to someone else, but as of now it wasn’t over.

He was simply too tired to deal with it all, with his emotions, with his thoughts and all the truths.

Lying motionlessly in his bed, (he didn’t want to move an inch, the sheets and the clothes he was wearing felt gross from the previous day) the noises from outside finally started to reach him. It was the sound of an engine, objects being moved and voices, many voices.

Youngjae slowly sat up, winced at the stabbing pain in his shoulder, but he stood nonetheless.

He went to the door, surprised to find it unlocked. For a second he stood in the doorway, puzzled, before giving up on trying to figure out why it was so, and stepped outside. He squinted in the bright, natural light that was filling the hallway. It was empty, but Youngjae could hear the voices from downstairs.

He trotted down the stairs, the shirt Himchan had helped him get into and he’d slept in hanging off of his bandaged shoulder, the laces of his pyjama bottoms dangling aimlessly.

When he reached the bottom floor, he wasn’t sure what he’d walked in on. The entire living room had been completely cleared out; no furniture, no decorations, nothing. It was devoid of people too, with only Jongup and Daehyun standing in the middle of the eerie emptiness, talking in hushed voices.

The two people he least wanted to see right now.

Aside from Yongguk.

They, of course, went quiet when they noticed him standing. Both of them gave Youngjae a look, trying to determine how much he’d heard, but the truth was that he’d been zoning out, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, so he had heard absolutely nothing.

Daehyun and Jongup soon realized this and stopped worrying, although Jongup did keep glaring at him.

“Good morning, Jae,” Daehyun hummed. He seemed to be in a good mood again, pretending if nothing had happened the previous day.

It annoyed Youngjae. Nothing was alright and he had the nerve to act as if it were.

When Daehyun approached with that stupid grin of his, Youngjae stepped back, nearly tripping over the stairs.

Ironically, it was Daehyun who caught him, taking him by the arm to steady him.

The elder leaned in, “You might want to consider some thankfulness.”

“What for?” Youngjae hissed, trying to free his arm, but the tugging caused far too much pain so his attempts were unsuccessful.

“You’ll see. Just try not to be such an ,” Daehyun whispered and immediately as he leaned back, his smile was back. He turned to look at the blue haired man now standing alone. “We’ll talk later, okay?” He said reassuringly.

Jongup gave a sharp nod and, with one last glare Youngjae’s way, walked outside.

“And you,” Daehyun continued, “Need to eat.” He said this and started leading Youngjae to the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Youngjae questioned as they stepped through the door.

To his utmost delight, all the people who currently hated his guts were there, of course. Himchan, Yongguk and Junhong, who Youngjae hoped at least didn’t hate him as much as the others in the room.

“Moving day,” Daehyun announced, sitting Youngjae down at the table.

Himchan was sat at the other side, typing hastily on his laptop and not sparing Youngjae a single glance.

Well, at least he’d gotten better at pretending that he didn’t care.

“Moving day?” Youngjae echoed, following Daehyun with his gaze as he walked around to stand beside Junhong at the counter.

Surprisingly, it was Yongguk who offered an explanation, “We’re relocating.”

He was sitting on the counter with his legs rested on one of the chairs that had clearly been pulled away from the table specifically for that purpose. He was scrolling on his phone, munching on some toast.

What a prick.

He went on, “Since you’d run off to chat up your friends and we don’t know how much you’d revealed. And besides, this location had become compromised long ago,” he added.

“Smart. Smart move.” Youngjae wasn’t going to tell them that he did not, in fact, reveal their location. Not this one anyway. Stupid of him, yes, no need to remind him.

Junhong was the one to bring him food, as he always did, but Youngjae had to admit he was glad to finally escape every lazy person’s paradise of eating in the bedroom every day. He felt more civilized this way.

“So where are we going?” He prompted. The gang at least seemed a bit chattier than usual that morning, so he was hoping to get some answers.

“Farther out of town,” Daehyun hummed, sitting down next to Youngjae. “The smartest decision would be to leave Dobong-gu altogether, but that requires negotiations with surrounding gangs. And... Ironically, this is currently the safest region.”

“Don’t tell me Jackson’s harassing other factions,” Youngjae asked, faking interest.

“He is,” Junhong said calmly. “Everyone but us, it seems.”

“Right,” Youngjae said, now more focused on his food. “I think you guys are in for something big. It’s no coincidence that he’s only leaving you alone,” he said, voice muffled as his mouth was full.

“The worst part is that you’re probably right,” Yongguk said grimly.

With a sigh, Daehyun pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Youngjae watched him light one up, waiting for the elder to notice his clear annoyance.

“I’m eating,” he said once he got Daehyun’s attention.

“My bad,” he said, but made no effort to move.

Youngjae snapped his gaze up to Yongguk, who too was unbothered. “You allow this?”

Yongguk put his phone down and, after such a long time of ignoring him, looked at Youngjae. Never breaking eye contact, took out his lighter, took a cigarette from Daehyun and lit it. And after all that, he had the audacity to blow the smoke Youngjae’s way.

There was a time when he’d found that hot.

Now was not that time.

“ing addicts,” Youngjae hissed. “At least you’ll die faster.”

“Speaking of your entitlement,” Yongguk hummed.

“My what now? Who said anything about—”

“I’m already considering changing my mind about that decision we made while you were passed out yesterday.”

Youngjae placed his toast down, frowning at Yongguk. “What decision?”

“The decision to let you out of your room in the new house,” he said.

Youngjae raised his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. That was... Far too liberal for them. He felt like it was a trap, but then again Yongguk was already considering revoking that privilege, so it wasn’t that unbelievable.

He only said, “Yay me,” because he wasn’t going to play their game. He knew very well that he was in their mercy, but he was not going to act so.

“Don’t celebrate early, you’re already getting on my nerves,” Yongguk said, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

Daehyun shifted, wrapped his arm around Youngjae’s shoulders. When he felt the younger wince, Daehyun only held him tighter.

“Come on, don’t be so hard on him. Youngjae is always equally annoying and no amount of generosity on our part will change that,” he said, lifting his free hand to ruffle Youngjae’s hair. “Isn’t that right?”

Youngjae wanted more than anything to punch him in the face and make him stop touching him, but he knew that getting worked up now wouldn’t help one bit.

“I meant what I said, hyung,” Daehyun continued, now looking up at Yongguk. “He’s a nuisance, but it’ll be better off that way.”

Youngjae glanced to the side, trying to decipher Daehyun’s expression through the smoke. He seemed to have been attempting non-verbal communication with Yongguk, but to no avail since the elder wasn’t looking at him.

Yongguk kicked the chair away and got off the counter. He hooked his thumb to his pocket and leaned over to put out his cigarette in the ashtray that was on the table. He shrugged, leaned back and tilted his head. The way he was looking at Youngjae made him extremely uncomfortable.

“As long as he stays out of my way,” Yongguk said. “—and out of the kitchen, I don’t care what he does.”

“Wait, why the kitchen?” Youngjae asked, whipping his gaze around at Daehyun and Junhong, trying to figure out if it was a tasteless joke at his expense.

It didn’t seem so, they weren’t snickering or similar.

“Knives,” Yongguk said simply. “Sure you at close combat, but any moron can figure out how to stab someone’s eye out with a butter knife.”

Youngjae threw a glance at one such knife that was laid on the table not far from him. He raised his eyebrows at Yongguk. “That’s not such a bad idea, actually. If I’d known that trick back at the academy, I could have avoided all the training.”

“Don’t try to scare me, Youngjae. Your training has never saved you, I have.”

Junhong immediately reached under the table to grab Youngjae’s hand before he got the chance to do anything stupid. On his other side Daehyun was still holding him around the shoulders, with the same goal.

“I want everyone out by eleven. We’ve waited enough,” the leader then said and strolled out. Soon after Himchan slammed his laptop shut and walked out after him.

When the two were gone, Youngjae yanked his hand from Junhong’s and shoved Daehyun away.

“How in the everloving did you two manage to convince the three people who hate me the most at the moment to let me out of my room?”

“It was me,” Daehyun said. “So you can at least try to be less of a .”

Youngjae crossed his arms, having left his food. He had gotten sick and didn’t  feel like finishing it anymore. “What did you tell them?”

Daehyun sighed, also putting out his cigarette and leaving it in the ashtray. “You saved my life. You’re cooperating. I have reasons to believe you won’t make any trouble if you’re let outside.” He paused. “I know you’ll laugh in my face for this, but I actually care about your wellbeing. Junhongie was worried about you too. We both know you’re not doing well.”

Youngjae dug his nails into his arm as he listened to this – he couldn’t accept it as the truth. “Oh, piss off. You only need me sane enough to do your research for you.”

Junhong wanted to reach for Youngjae again, but in the last second realized that it was probably a bad idea so he pulled back. “I care about you, I really do. I was the only one against even bringing you into all of this. I hate what Yongguk-hyung is doing to you just because he’s angry—”

“Junhong,” Daehyun warned, looking at him under the brow.

The younger returned a look just as intense. Then he looked back at Youngjae, gaze softening. “You do trust me, right?” He asked, shakily.

Youngjae wanted more than anything to curl up and disappear, but he kept his posture open, at least trying to appear confident. “I thought you were supposed to stay away from me. I thought I couldn’t be trusted,” he spat.

Junhong bowed his head, fumbling with the rips on his jeans. “You were right. I am an easy target. I couldn’t just start hating you, I couldn’t...”

“That’s enough,” Daehyun said, standing up. He stood by Junhong’s chair, appearing between him and Youngjae. “But he’s right to an extent. You need to accept that, at least when it comes to Junhong and me, we actually support your best interest. So just tone it down a bit, please.”

Youngjae stayed in his spot, arms crossed and sulking like a child. Still staring ahead, he asked,

“You moved out of your own places too, right?”

Daehyun sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah. I mean, we had to. Himchan had handled it all while the rest of us were still locked up.”

“So I’ll have to see Jongup a lot,” Youngjae mumbled more as a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Junhong said and he sounded just as exhausted about it as Youngjae.

He wanted to ask about it, but figured it wasn’t the right time.

Instead he asked, “Even the house?”

Daehyun paused, exchanging looks with Junhong. “Yeah...” was his cautious answer.

“He loved that house,” Youngjae mumbled.

He was slipping away again, lost somewhere in the time when Yongguk had first taken him to his getaway. The lone little house on a hill that he’d kept for himself, for when he needed some time alone. He didn’t bring anyone there, and even when he offered it as shelter to those who need it, it wasn’t the same as when he’d brought Youngjae there.

 

“You’re the only one I want to share this with,” he'd said.

Youngjae jolted when he felt Daehyun’s hand on his shoulder. He blinked and was met with his and Junhong’s worried looks.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly and checked the nearest clock. “It’s almost eleven. Yongguk gave clear orders. I haven’t even packed yet!” Youngjae exclaimed dramatically to lighten the mood, regardless of the fact that he didn’t even have any possessions to pack.

It was as if everything from his old life had been left behind.