“What do you mean ‘there’s a crate for us?’”

“There’s a crate for us. It was delivered an hour ago.”

“You’ve been waiting that long?” Sungyeol glared at Hoya, he skepticism a little too obvious.

Hoya shrugged. “I had time to kill.”

“Why is it… chained up?” Sungjong carefully circled the wooden box. For some unfathomable reason, whoever sent it also felt the need to secure it with thick chains and a padlock.

“Who knows?” L had barely spoken since the others arrived. He didn’t seem to happy either.

The warehouse door slid open one more time. Dongwoo’s head snapped up and he grinned. “Look who finally showed up!”

Woohyun growled, maintaining distance from the others. “Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t think I’d be seeing any of you after that night on the roof and I didn’t particularly want to. I’m only here because we didn’t hear a peep out of Se7en or any of his goons for a year, and we suddenly get the same phone call. After this is over, I’m done with all of you… for good.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” L shot him an even glare.

“So, what are we waiting for?” Dongwoo grinned. L snatched a hammer off a box and raised it above his head, bringing it down and breaking the padlock.

“Wait.”

“What now?”

“I don’t think we thought this through.”

“You mean you think it’s a bomb?”

Hoya shrugged. “I’m just saying. We’re loose ends. Se7en doesn’t leave loose ends.”

“A bomb isn’t exactly subtle.”

“He’s not exactly subtle, either.”

“Whatever.” L sighed and pulled the chains off the crate. The others, despite every instinct screaming at them not to, stepped closer. With the other end of the hammer, L pried the crate apart, revealing a small metal box.

“I don’t like this…” Sungjong’s voice was shaky. The others didn’t dare speak – they didn’t have to. Woohyun opened the box. In unison, they in a breath.

1:27… 1:26… 1:25…

L’s eyes widened. He frantically patted his pockets, looking for the wire cutters he’d taken from work the other day. Finally finding them, he tried to steady his hands and concentrate. Focus… focus…

Protect them. His head snapped up. He looked around the warehouse for the source of the voice. It couldn’t have been… but it sounded so real.

“L!”

Right, bomb. He turned back to the wires, selected one, grit his teeth, and cut it.

Nothing.

0:57… 0:56… 0:55… 0:54…

“The hell?”

“Nothing happened!”

“Run.” Hoya’s hand was already clutching the sleeve of Sungjong’s jacket. The younger was shaking all over now.

“Why isn’t it stopping?”

“Run, idiots!” He pulled at the youngest.

“I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die…” Sungjong was frozen.

“Maybe it’ll…”

“Run!”

They all dove for the door at once, desperately trying to get as far away as possible. They almost made it.

L was knocked off his feet, skidding across the room and coming to a stop just in front of the door. The force of the blast had opened it, but no one had made it outside. His ears were ringing, and he was pretty sure he felt them bleeding. His head swam, his vision blurring. Somewhere to his left, Woohyun groaned in pain. L wanted to tell him not to move, but his voice wasn’t working. Woohyun screamed in pain and fell to the floor, clutching his twisted and charred leg. L felt like throwing up.

To his right, Sungjong’s hand was reaching for him. He looked further, but had to squeeze his eyes shut and try not to choke on bile.

Sungjong was lying with his arm outstretched; his eyes wide open and clouded over, a small pool of blood forming by his ear. The blast had burnt holes in his shirt. L couldn’t see his chest rising or falling. He choked out a sob and crawled forward, desperate to get away from the body. Woohyun cried out again, this time from seeing Hoya and Dongwoo’s no doubt equally as mangled bodies. He didn’t want to find Sungyeol.

Have to get out… have to get out… He still couldn’t hear past the incessant ringing and the voice echoing through his head. Protect them. Protect them.

As the ringing started to fade, L heard familiar footsteps echoing in the warehouse. He struggled to his hands and knees, straining against the darkness to see whom the approaching shadow was.

It stepped into the light of one of the jagged windows. L bit back a scream. The man met his gaze – his expression full of lament - blood caking his hair and running down the sides of his face.

“Oh God…”

Images started flooding L’s brain – images he was sure he’d forgotten. Waking up to a pounding head, cold concrete, and Se7en jamming a loaded gun against his leader’s skull. Panic, hatred, confusion; it was all he could grasp over the blood pounding in his ears.

The Leader looked up, his eyes meeting L’s. The boy could still remember the look as if it was right there in front of him. There had been a level of sadness and regret he’d never seen from the man before.

“Please!”

“-and lives.”

“No!”

“Protect them.”

L barely caught his Hyung’s whisper over Sungjong’s screams. He opened his mouth, but immediately closed it when he could feel bile rising in his throat.

Bang!

“You didn’t protect them, L.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked and he tried to stave off his tears.

“You didn’t protect them.”

“Sunggyu…” He raised a bloody hand; his body shaking so much it was a wonder he was even still on his knees. “Sunggyu Hyung… help.”

“Sorry, L. Not this time.”

L’s vision blurred. The shadows distorted in front of him and he could hear the clicking of a gun, its barrel aimed between his eyes.

“Hyung… help…”

Thud.