o29

Heal This, Hurt That

By the time Junmyeon’s power was driving the ship forward and they moved towards the edge of the sector within Hei’s time stop, her sister had sunk to her knees next to Baekhyun and was clenching her husband’s hand. She kept her power flowing, but she didn’t show any other signs of even seeing them. Her right arm was a bloody mess, where Jinqiong could tell Baekhyun had skinned a portion of her forearm, and her face was colorless save the angry red gash on her cheek. Just looking at her made her irrationally angry at Baekhyun, but she shoved it down. It was obvious what had happened when she saw the ghostly figure in front of them, when saw Byun Baekhyun hurt his wife he so clearly cherished.

Jinqiong had been woken up from the two rings of the alarm. Sluggish from Yuxuan’s medicine, she dragged herself up, crashed into Jongdae, promptly ignored him when he told her that sounding the alarm twice meant that they were to stay where they were, and shielded herself with her power before she crept up. Just in time to see a hint of what horrors had already happened.

They weren’t major wounds, not really. It probably would’ve been much worse if she hadn’t intervened, but she was also certain that the ghost of Baekhyun’s father hadn’t meant to truly hurt Hei, not yet. Junmyeon explained quickly to her about the sector, the fear, and it clicked completely.

As much as she didn’t like Baekhyun, stabbing his own son in the chest was cruel. But this—this was even worse, perfectly calculated, and offered no easy way out. Jinqiong had watched her family torture for information, but what the Byun family leader had chosen was even beyond that.

She joined Junmyeon near the railing. Hei had kept the time stop for at least two minutes, but Junmyeon gently told her to try for five, because they needed to make sure they were for certain out of the second sector. Hei gave them a brief nod, the only sign that she had heard.

Junmyeon’s jaw was clenched tightly, and something told Jinqiong it wasn’t from the strain of his power. “He knew exactly what he was doing,” he growled.

Jinqiong swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

“He knew Baekhyun would protect her from anything. So he made sure that Baekhyun would be the one to hurt her.”

She didn’t dare look back at her sister. “We need to keep out of the second sector.”

Junmyeon didn’t argue with that, didn’t speak again. They sailed in completely silence, everything muted by Hei’s power. Time wasn’t tangible, but Jinqiong could almost swear that by halting time, she could feel its pressing presence.

After what felt like forever, Junmyeon signaled for Hei to release her power. She did, still silent, as the waves broke from the invisible hand that had encased them, wind rippling over her again. Junmyeon’s arms dropped. No ghost appeared on the deck in front of them. They were out of the second sector. What other horrors awaited them, Jinqiong didn’t know.

She turned to Hei, the girl silent and unmoving as if she had trapped herself in her power instead. She didn’t seem to notice her arm, or her cheek, or Jinqiong when she placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go downstairs,” she offered. “Junmyeon can carry Baekhyun to your cabin.”

***

Jinqiong didn’t know what to do. She had heard Hei talk for half a minute before both Baekhyun and his father seemed to be distracted enough for her to strike, and she had sounded confident then. That girl was gone, and she seemed shell-shocked when she led her down the stairs to her own room, passing the rest of the crew. She told them to talk to Junmyeon about what had happened, and everyone had been quick enough to pick up that Hei was in no condition to explain anything.

A couple minutes later, Jinqiong was attempting to wash the blood from the sides of the wound. It wasn’t too bad, but she knew it wasn’t the pain that would prove to be the hardest to overcome. Hei let her without another word, let her smooth salve over her face and arm before binding it up.

“Hei,” Jinqiong started. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears. “How long were both of you up there?”

She blinked. “I don’t know.”

She took a deep breath. Comfort wasn’t her thing. She could torture someone for information—really, she had—but that was obviously not what Hei needed. Jinqiong shoved the thought back. She didn’t need to think of torturing.

“What did Baekhyun—what did he make Baekhyun do?”

She wasn’t sure if it were the right thing to talk about at all. Hei blinked at the words, as if struggling to register them, and pressed her lips together. “It wasn’t Baekhyun,” she said in a quiet voice.

“It wasn’t,” Jinqiong agreed. Footsteps sounded on the ceiling of her cabin from whatever they were doing on the deck. She hoped the fourth sector would be calm for just a little while more.

Hei shifted and pressed her pale lips together. “He didn’t do much,” she started wearily, but there was a hint of herself again, albeit exhausted. Even if she still looked frightened, Jinqiong supposed it was good that she didn’t look empty as she did on the deck, staring into someplace neither she nor Junmyeon could see. “But he knew, you know? That Baekhyun would try to shield me from everything that he could throw at us, so he made Baekhyun do it instead.”

“Your arm.”

“And my face, too. But he didn’t get that far. I don’t think his father expected me to put up a fight. And I don’t think he expected Baekhyun to, even though he trapped him. He was still fighting. But even then…”

I’m not weak, Hei had insisted. That had barely been a day ago, but Jinqiong found herself realizing that it was true. Perhaps the other girl didn’t see it, but the fact that she had fought through that, the fact that she didn’t blame Baekhyun for anything and had managed to hold her power out even afterwards—she definitely wasn’t. The fact that she wasn’t talking about her own fear—or perhaps she wasn’t frightened in the first place, not for herself—and the fact that her main worry was for Baekhyun…

“Baekhyun told him to get out,” Hei murmured. “In the beginning. I can’t imagine—” Her voice broke. “I have a couple minor wounds. Nothing Yuxuan can’t heal. Nothing that I can’t heal on my own. But Baekhyun…his father was in his head. He made him—he forced him—with his own hands. He’ll be… when he wakes up—”

Her voice crumbled, and Hei buried her face in her hands. She didn’t cry, not quite, but continued sitting there, shaking, and Jinqiong laid a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

Hei didn’t acknowledge her there, just remained sitting with her face in her hands and drawing deep, shuddering breaths until her breathing had finally slowed down and she managed to lift her face. It was still tear stained, Jinqiong realized, but she had no words left for comfort.

“I’m sorry,” she managed.

Hei wiped her eyes. “It’s not your fault,” she croaked. “I don’t know where we would be if you hadn’t intervened. You saved both of us.”

She got up unsteadily and headed for the door despite the shaky steps. Jinqiong searched for something to say before she left completely, but comfort had never been her forte, and it wasn’t then, either.

The knob turned. “Hei,” Jinqiong blurted.

Her sister turned around, already poised to leave the room. Her eyes were red. “Yeah?”

“You’re not weak,” Jinqiong said. “The fact that you just went through all of that yet the first person you’re worried about is Baekhyun says something. And you held out that long by yourself without giving into Baekhyun’s father, and that also says something.”

The smile she got in return was bitter, and not very Song Hei. “I couldn’t do anything,” she replied.

“Neither could Baekhyun,” Jinqiong replied. “And right now, I bet you can do more than he can when he wakes up. As stupid as it sounds, you’re the one who needs to be strong for him later.”

Doubt flickered across her face, but then also hope. “How?”

Jinqiong shrugged. “You’re probably the only one who can bring him away from the whole it’s all my fault mindset,” she replied. “You’re the only one who can tell him that it’s fine and reassure him. Baekhyun’s father wants you to be scared of him, but he also wants Baekhyun to be scared of hurting you. He might’ve failed on your half, but if you don’t do something about Baekhyun, then you’ve already let him win.”

Hei pressed her lips together. “I don’t know if I can,” she said.

She had nothing else to say that she could think of, so Jinqiong shrugged at Hei. “That’s up to you,” she said, and her sister gave a nod, eyes gazing somewhere far off again, and the door closed behind her.

***

Baekhyun was unconscious for a while longer. Yuxuan managed to wake up from her own rest and check on Baekhyun before making sure there were no lasting injuries, and Jinqiong’s blow to his head had been frightfully accurate—enough to knock him out and leave a bump, but not enough to damage. He’d be up soon.

She didn’t let the girl heal the arm, but the healing salve Jinqiong had put on both had helped, both infused with Yuxuan’s magic from a while back. It was supposed to help wounds close quicker, and in the case of her cheek, prevent scarring. Her arm was a whole other question.

At some point, Baekhyun’s breathing steadied, and Jongdae, who stood at her side with her, informed her that he was sleeping, not unconscious. He hadn’t asked her what had happened, but Hei could tell he wanted to. Still, after a while, the crew left her alone, and Hei sat on the chair and watched him sleep, thoughts all flitting out of her grasp when she tried to pin them down.

 Her fingers crept to her bandaged arm when she watched Baekhyun, but Hei refused to look at the wound. It wasn’t Baekhyun’s fault, and she knew it. But part of the terror still lingered, feeling the cutlass slicing into her skin in Baekhyun’s hands, his quiet, taunting voice.

Every time she felt herself slipping, she repeated it. It wasn’t Baekhyun. She thought of the last time they’d encountered his father: Baekhyun had taken the blade for her. He had died to save her. Baekhyun, always pushing her behind him in the face of danger because he would still take that blade every single time. 

And Hei would, too.

Be strong for him, Jinqiong had said.

She had never needed to be strong for Baekhyun. It was always him holding her up, never the other way around. She wasn’t sure if it was something she could even do anymore.

Baekhyun shifted on the bed, murmuring something feverishly, but not waking. Hei bit her lips until she was sure she could taste blood. She was afraid for him to wake up. Afraid to see just how damage his father had managed. As terrified as she had been, Hei had a feeling that she hadn’t been the Byun family leader’s true target, not completely. She was just a part of the trap designed to scar Baekhyun until he couldn’t trust his own hands to come near her, much less touch her. She wondered how much worse it would be if his father had more time.

Then, beside her, Baekhyun snapped up. His hand went to his waist, where his cutlass usually hung, though they had stripped him of all his weapons—the cutlass, his twin daggers strapped on his legs, and the small knife Hei hadn’t known existed until Luhan tossed it on Baekhyun’s desk.

He took sharp breaths, looking around the room wildly until he spotted her. Hei could hear him stop breathing when he saw her.

“Hei,” he whispered in a cracked voice, raw and hoarse. His eyes flickered over her, to her arm then to her face, and a small noise of pain escaped him. Something burned inside to see him so vulnerable, pain lashing and taking hold in her chest and refusing to let go.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine.”

He shook his head. “My father.”

“He’s gone,” Hei reassured, but was dry. What else could she say? She didn’t want to push him right now, with the panic still on his face and the fact that he looked at her with fear. It wasn’t right.

She took a deep breath. “We’re in the fourth sector,” she said. “We won’t be going back there no matter what.”

Baekhyun’s hands trembled. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m so—I’m so sorry. I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t, and I just—” She could see him looking at her arm, her face. “Dammit, I couldn’t do anything.”

“Baekhyun—”

“I said I’d never hurt you.” His voice cracked, and it hit Hei just how much he had witnessed the whole thing, with how much clarity. He had been completely alert yet unable to stop his own body. “I told you to hold still when I cut—” One more look at her bandaged arm, like he could see through what was underneath. He didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t finish his sentence. 

“That wasn’t you,” she insisted, reaching for his hands. They gripped white around the blankets. “He did the same to me.”

She touched his fingers, and Baekhyun flinched back so violently that it sent Hei startling away too. She stared at him.

His breathing quickened, eyes widening. Then he shook his head, one frightened shake, so far from the fearless captain she remembered from long ago and shoved the blankets off him. “I’m sorry,” Baekhyun whispered, voice still hoarse. “I just need a little time for myself. Give me a while to sort it out.”

He could barely let her touch him, Hei realized, dread settling in. Not frightened of her, but frightened that he would hurt her. Frustration, along with everything, rose. If she weren’t scared, he shouldn’t be. But she also knew it wasn’t—and would never be—that easy.

“It’s not your fault,” she told Baekhyun desperately. The lump in refused to leave. Be strong for him, Jinqiong said.

She couldn’t. She hadn’t been able to before. And she couldn’t now.

His eyes were wide. “I’m sorry,” he repeated for what felt like the nth time. “We can sort it out later, but I need a bit of air.”

Everything felt closer and closer to falling apart. It was an awful feeling, not quite foreign, but something that she hadn’t felt in a long time with Baekhyun. Not with Baekhyun, not anymore.

Her eyes stung when Baekhyun stood up from the bed. He seemed to