Leaning against the wall of lockers in the break room, I take a moment to myself to reflect and think about all that’s happened. Two surgeries back to back is exhausting and honestly, probably not the smartest thing to have done. One a lumbar decompression and L3-S1 fusion, the other I sat in and helped with a retrosigmoid. I was yawning the second the surgeries were over. Dr. Park told me he was grateful for my assistance, and said I should look into become a certified brain surgeon. Very flattering to hear from the best brain surgeon in the country. I feel the creep of exhaustion seep into me as I open my locker, taking out my walking shoes and change into those. The small heels I was wearing felt like they had my feet in a vice grip. I yawn, wringing my hands together, getting ready to leave work for the day. The strong smell of disinfectant every where burns my nose as I grab my things.

Truth be told, unless you’re in the children’s wing of a hospital, everything is boring and depressing. All our lockers painted the same color as the wall, with name tags on the front. The floor was that vinyl made to look like wood planks. You’d think they could give us some carpet in rooms like this, where patients never are, but they simply don’t want to deal with the upkeep. Who knew a hospital as grand as this was filled with greed. The slight buzz from the fluorescent lights fill my head and drives me absolutely crazy after hours upon hours here. Letting my hair down, I turn back to my locker, looking at my watch to see if I still had some time to perhaps pick up some take out.

“Y/N!”

I glance to my right, seeing someone run over to me, “Oh, hi, Jihye.”

She stops, breathing deep as she tries to catch her breath, “I went looking for you after the surgery, but everyone said you were leaving. I was wondering if you wanted to go and get some drinkings with all of us?” She smiles, her white coat still pristine since she spent most of the day doing paperwork. Jihye was taller than I was, her hair blonde and her eyes a dark brown. I was always a bit jealous of her long legs, truthfully, but I never let that feeling grow bitter since she was, for the most part, a kind person.

“I think I’m just going to go home, honestly,” I say, with a smile, “I’m sorry. I’m just exhausted.” I take off my white coat, hanging it in my locker and grab my backpack. Truthfully, while I was tired, I just didn’t feel like going out tonight.

She frowns, “Y/N, listen, I know it must be hard losing your mom, but you can’t just never go and have fun anymore.” She rests her hand on my shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’m just worried, is all. You’re a dear friend and I don’t want to see you waste away in grief.”

My heart freezes, my eyes leaving her as I shut my locker a bit harder than I meant to. “I’m fine, Jihye. I’m just really tired. I’m probably just going to take something for my headache and go to bed.”

She sighs, “Alright, see you later then. Be careful walking.”

“What do I have to be afraid of?”

“Well, there has been a lot of criminal stuff going on… inhumans are getting rowdy lately.” She glares at bit at the ground, “Those freaks.”

I wave, not wanting to answer. She shares an opinion that many in the world have. Powerful people, inhumans are, but I can’t help but feel sorry for them. They never asked for it. I didn’t want to bring it up to her, since we’ve had countless arguments about it before. So instead, I smile, before turning and talking out into the bustling city of Seoul. I’ve lived in the city since I was small, my mother working at this hospital before I did. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor like her, and I did just that. Got through school and med school like a breeze, so I was the youngest surgeon at 25 here.

Two months ago, my mother suddenly passed away. It was a car accident, and they never caught the person who did it. It feels like there’s been a hole in my heart ever since. She was kind and spent her life trying to help people, no matter what they looked like or who they were. I couldn’t help but feel that the world was so dull without her now.

I turned down the alley that I take for a shortcut to my apartment, it was dark and I heard the loud thumping bass from the club that was the left building. The thumbing was so loud I felt myself starting to get a headache outside. I felt a drop hit my face, and soon I noticed the sky was covered in dark clouds and it started to softly rain. Barely a drizzle, but still bothersome nonetheless.

I pass by a couple leaning against the wall, lips locked together. The man shoving the woman against the wall, her legs around his hips. I roll my eyes, “Classy, so romantic to make out by the trash.”

The two were too in their own world to care. I often wondered what it would be like to be so consumed by passion to not care about your surroundings, only the person you’re with. I’ve dated, but it never seemed to click with any of them. Many men seemed intimidated by me, since I was so accomplished so young, and others only cared for one thing. Which is fine, but truthfully, I was never that attracted to those types to get lost in their arms for a night. Perhaps I was just meant to be alone in that regard. To most people that thought would terrify them, but I was indifferent to it. Though, I suppose how would I know if I’d be scared if I’ve never had it to begin with?

The sound of fast, splashing footfalls brings me out of my thoughts. I see someone sprint over to the end of the alley, turning and running towards me. Panic etched on his face, eyes wide and full of adrenaline. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had blood dripping from his hands, I would have thought he was a junkie who’s just gotten off. He quickly looks me over with his eyes and runs a hand through his dyed silver hair. He points at me, “Lee Y/N? Please be Lee Y/N.”

I stop, a chill running down my spine, “How do you know my name?”

“A co-worker told me,” He says, taking another step to me.

I feel that faint feeling I get sometimes when I speak to someone. It was like a warm tingle on my mind, “You’re lying.”

He smirks, “I am. But I need your help, someone is hurt.” His voice was uneven as he kept walking to me.

“Who,” I ask, knowing that this was a truthful statement. One thing I share with my mother is that we both feel an unwavering need to help people. I always admired that about her. What comes with it, though, was an unfathomable amount of empathy. I have a very tender heart when it comes to people suffering, which can be a blessing and a curse, depending on the day.

He closes the distance between us, not answering my questions as he grabs my upper arm. I feel the air around me suddenly become cold. I feel weightless for a moment, before I’m back on solid ground. In the blink of an eye I went from an alleyway to a room that was filled with people, all dressed like the one who met me in the alley. They were all in all black. It was a very clean room, some of the lights were flickering and some bulbs were out completely.

My heart raced, looking around at the new environment. “Wh-…How? How the did yo-”

“No time,” another one yells, pulling me over to a bed. He was tall, his black hair pushed out his face and a angry look on his face. He honestly could have been a model, his beautiful face contorted in anger. He towered over me, intimidating me a bit.

“Sehun, you could at least be nicer,” The guy from the alleyway says, holding his head and leaning against the wall for balance. He takes deep breaths, his hands shaking a bit.

“He’s dying, being nice can wait,” The one pulling me yells, his voice cracking in anguish. My wrist hurts from his grip as he continues to pull me further towards everyone else.

The rest of the people part and I see a man laying there, his eyes closed and his breathing soft. Oxygen mask on his face and the heart rate monitor was beeping dangerously slow. His hair was black, and I could tell he was naturally very pale, but even paler now from blood loss. A wound was seeping blood, another person had a rag over it, applying pressure. He looks up, his hair also black but he seems kinder. He had this boyish charm to him, “Please help him.”

My eyes look over at all of them. Most of them had some sort of weapon on them, be they sharp objects or firearms. I got the feeling that if I didn’t help them, they wouldn’t take kindly to that. I sigh, pushing up the sleeves of my sweater. If Jihye was here, she’d freak out, claiming she was right all along.

She, also, would kill me for actually wanting to help. “Fine, but I want answers after. I’m going to assume you all have things required to do this. What kind of injury is it?”

“Gunshot,” Another member answers, looking serious at me, as if telling me not to up.

I tie my hair up, looking up at the ceiling, “It’s dark in here, is there any other light? I need to see if an artery has been hit and if the bullet is still in there. Did it go completely through?”

“No, it didn’t go completely through” The one holding the rag says, “Oh, and light.” He raises a hand about a foot away from the wound. His hand started to shine a pure white light, brighter than any bulb could ever give.

“Inhumans, huh,” I say, trying to keep my voice even and calm. “As if my day wasn’t hectic enough.” Looking at the man who conjured light from nowhere as I shake my head. He shrugs, before glancing around at the others. Inhumans, people born with powers. Most are killed if their blood tests positive for the genetic mutation. Some are kept alive, if one parent doesn’t carry the mutation, but heavily monitored since there could be a chance that they carry the mutation but don’t actually have powers. How they managed to stay alive so long is astounding.

It took a few minutes to find the bullet and any fragments of it, “Seems like nothing was hit that’s serious. The shoulder is a tough spot, because if it was any further in any direction, he could have lost the arm or had irreparable damage.”

“Finally some good news,” Someone with brown hair says with a sigh. He had a soft look on his face, and he seemed like he was trying to keep himself together for the sake of everyone else.

“He needs blood, though,” I say, as I prepare a needle to start to stitch him up. “What’s his blood type? Does anyone have the same as him?”

“I do,” A tall one days, his red hair a complete mess. He looked kind, but worry was all that was on his face currently. It only took a few seconds to get them settled with a field blood transfusion. I sit down in a chair, watching as they all are still looking at their friend.

“He’ll be fine,” I say, stretching my arms, trying to not appear as tired as I felt. My voice was uneven, my fear completely evident. They could kill me now that I saved their friend’s life, but some small irrational thought in me, for some reason, knew they wouldn’t.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the brown haired one says, looking over. “You’re wondering if you can leave.”

“Well actually, I was thinking my favorite sweater is ruined now,” I joke, trying to keep myself calm as my heart raced. I look down at the blood that covered the front half. “However, now that you mentioned it, I would like to go home and sleep, but something tells me that the possibility of that happening is zero.”

The brown haired one nods, “Yeah.” His voice even and completely calm, as if he had never worried about his friend at all.

“Just my ing luck,” I say with a sigh, leaning back into the chair. “However, I said I wanted answers,” I start, “So, who are you? Are you all inhumans? How did he get shot?”

“Should we tell her,” The serious one asks, giving me a distrusting look. Which is fair, since they are constantly hunted for.

“We’re EXO,” Another one says, his brown eyes looking over at me, his hair was blonde, though I could see a bit of pink was fading from it.

“The supposed gang of inhumans that the government wants us all to believe isn’t real,” I say, leaning forward in my chair again. For the past two years or so they’ve been all over the news, masked inhumans going around breaking other inhumans out, stealing from people whose organizations profit from the killing of inhumans or from their labor. “. What did I get into.”

“I’m Xiumin,” The faded pink hair one says. He was smaller than the rest, but he was still a lot taller than I was. He had a smile on his face, waving at me. He seemed kind enough.

“Oh so you introduce yourself with your code name, but my actual name gets said and no one bats an eye,” The one who’s name I learned earlier, Sehun, says, crossing his arms. A small pout on his face, making him seem younger than he was.

“You don’t have one, since you can’t seem to decide on one. If we had it my way, your code name would be idiot” The one who was creating the light says. He turns to me, giving me a dazzling smile, “I’m Baekhyun, I also don’t have a code name.”

“Fine,” Xiumin says, “My actual name is Minseok.”

They introduced themselves one after another, nine in total. The tall, red haired one was Chanyeol, the serious one was Kyungsoo, the one who brought me here was Jongin, The one who hasn’t spoke until that point was black haired Jongdae, the one with brown hair, who I assumed was the leader, was Junmyeon.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, “The one who’s life you saved is named Yixing.”

I take a look at the man who was unconscious. He was very handsome, his face completely at peace as he slept. He looked like he was steadily getting better as the color returned to his face.

“We’re all inhumans,” Junmyeon says, “He got shot while we were helping other inhumans escape.”

I simply just nod, wiping my bloody hands on my sweater. “And I can’t leave. Because now I’m pulled into this web.”

“I’m afraid not,” Jongdae says, shrugging. “You’re taking this a lot better than expected.”

I laugh, “Truthfully, I’ve done two four hour long surgeries before I was brought here. I’m too damn exhausted to be freaked out or worried.”

“I mean,” Sehun says, shrugging, “We could kill you, for all you know, to keep you silent.”

That warm tingling came into my mind, and I smirk, “You’re lying.”

He smirks, outstretching his arms in a shrug, “And how do you know if I am? I’ve killed people before.”

“She’s an inhuman,” Junmyeon states in a matter-of-fact voice, as if he’s known me all my life.

I freeze, not meeting his gaze. No one is suppose to know that. I’ve hidden it for so long. “What? Ho-”

“You’re mother,” Minseok says, his body language becoming timid after saying that. Like he knew this subject was one I desperately wanted no part of. “She… she was the one we use to go to if Yixing got hurt. The rest of us are fine, he can heal us. That’s his power, but his power doesn’t work on himself.”

“You knew my mother,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. Her smile and laughter flood my memories as I tried to keep them away.

“Yes,” Junmyeon says, nodding, “She wasn’t inhuman, but she told us you were. When she first started to help us, she told us, and that if anything happened, she wanted us to take care of you.”

“Take care of me? I’m not a child.” My voice bitter. I stand, my heart racing, “How? When? How long has my mother been helping you all? Why didn’t she tell me?!”

“That can wait,” Baekhyun says, smiling, trying to keep me calm.

I shake my head, “No, it really can’t. How could she hide this from me? Her involvement with you all?!” My mind was reeling as I walked over and stopped the blood transfusion, since it was time to and because it game me something to do. Bandaging both Chanyeol and the unconscious Yixing in an attempt to calm myself by working.

“She was protecting you from it,” Sehun says, “Nayeon didn’t want to get you into this. She said she spent so long hiding that you were inhuman from everyone that if you were seen with us, it would be over and they’d find you and kill you.”

Kyungsoo nods, “She let it slip to us before she passed that they were already catching onto you. She made us promise to do protect you if something happened to her, since she was scared she wouldn’t be there to protect you. A few more weeks and you could have been taken and executed.”

Junmyeon stands, raising his hand, stopping someone else from speaking up. “That’s all for tonight. We wouldn’t want to wake Yixing.”

I groan, trying to keep my anger in control. “But I-”

“I said that’s all,” He says, looking at me, his voice getting lower in an attempt to intimidate me. “We’ll finish this discussion in the morning.”

The silence in the room was thick, and soon, many of the men were standing and exiting the room.

“I’ll stay with Yixing,” Baekhyun says, “After all, my part of the mission was just sitting at the computer here. You’re all tired, got clean up and rest.”

After a few instructions to Baekhyun, telling him that if anything got worse to seek me, I was escorted to a spare bedroom. It took us about five minutes to get here, up some stairs and down another hallway. It was about the size of my room at home. Not big but not small. A queen sized bed in one corner, a dresser to the other side, and a rug that covered the unused space. It was very dull, the walls white and the floor cold hardwood.

“Bathroom is to the left, spare clothes are in the dresser” Sehun says, turning to walk out the door. “Please don’t make us have to hunt you down if you try to leave. You won’t get far.”

I sigh, “I won’t. Too much trouble, and I’m too damn tired.”

“Y/N,” He says, his back to me. His back seemed tense and he stood completely straight.

“Yes?”

A few moments pass of silence between us. The air was cold, making me shiver as I tried to wait for him to speak first. “Thank you,” He says as his voice finally breaks the silence. It was rough and deep and completely uneven, as he tried to keep his emotions from showing in his voice. “For saving Yixing. He’s our brother and… I just don’t want to lose anyone else.”

I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness come from him. ‘Anyone else’ echoed in my mind. They must have lost others. I was about to speak but before I could reply, the door was shut and I was left to my own thoughts. It was like I was on autopilot as I showered, throwing my sweater way. I opened the dresser, seeing it filled with clothes that were about my size. As I kept looking, I recognized some shirts and pajamas.

These clothes are my mothers. Were my mothers.

Tears fill my eyes as I bit my lip to try to stay calm. Whoever these men are, they must have meant a lot to my mother for her to help them. I knew she would go places, but she’d always tell me she was helping people who needed it. It wasn’t a lie, should I never caught on. I thought she was helping the homeless or donating time at a free clinic, but all this time it was this?

“I can’t believe this,” I said, curled up in bed. My mind ran on it’s own, remembering my mother. Her smile, her laugh, her want to help anyone and everyone. Hours have passed, but sleep never came and I thought about the situation I now faced. I’ve heard of EXO. How they kill people and have done many things to help inhumans. Torture, bribery, blackmail, you name it they’ve done it most likely. My mother was a pacifist, and yet she supported this violence. Tears flowed from my eyes as I tried to desperately to bottle it all up again.

The door was thrown open and light quickly erupting in the room. Turning to face the door, I see Baekhyun run inside. “Y/N,” He said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with him, almost making me trip as I left the bed. I somehow manage to get the blanket off me in time before I was tangled in it.

“Baekhyun,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm as he pulled me into a sprint with him. He pulled me up the metal spiral staircase a bit too fast, making my pajama pant leg get caught and I trip. “,” I say, looking at the bleeding cut on my arm. It was small, and while it was bleeding a bit it wasn’t anything to worry about.

“Sorry,” He says, “Come on.”

He pulls me into the room I was in before, throwing his hand forward and making some bright lights to fill the room. They float in the air as he pulls me over to the bed. “There,” He says with a smile, “Here she is.”

I look at the man in the bed who was covering his face from the sudden burst of bright light, “Baek, really,” He ask, his voice was low and rough from his sleep. He was sitting up in the bed, his legs crossed under him. A laptop set beside him, but I feel as if he wasn’t the one using it.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says with a laugh, “Sorry.” He raised his hand in the air and lowered it, as if he’d used the dimmer on a chandelier.

Yixing moved his hand from his face, letting his eyes adjust to the brighter room before turning and looking at me. He smiled, and I saw a dimple on his cheek. “You…”

I look at him, waiting patiently for him to finish what he was saying. His smile was big, bright and honestly one of the best things I’ve seen all day. I suddenly became very aware I was standing in front of him with my brown hair in a mess and in baggy pajama clothes looking like I was literally death walking since I was so tired.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

“Um,” I say, taken back by the first words he spoke to me, a blush making it’s way to my face. “Uh… thank you?”

“Right,” Baekhyun says, hopping onto the bed, managing to avoid Yixing’s legs. “Nayeon told us she had that she had hetercha… hetercra… umm,” He says, pouting while trying to think.

“Heterochromia,” I say calmly, looking down at my hands, feeling awkward from the sudden complement. Since I was small, one of my eyes was completely brown and the other was mostly blue with a tiny chunk that was still brown.

“Yeah, that,” Baekhyun exclaims, raising both arms into the air. “It’s really pretty, like he said.”

I clasp my hands together in front my my chest, “Um… thank you. Both of you.”

“Noona, your arm,” Baekhyun gasps, looking at the blood running down it.

“Oh, yeah.” I look at the cut, seeing blood still trickled out of it. “Well, don’t pull me so fast, my legs are small. If you have anymore thread and a needle, I can stitch it up quickly.”

“You can’t just stitch yourself up,” Baekhyun says, making a grossed out face, shaking his head at the idea.

I shrug, “Why not, I’ve done it before.”

“That is one of the grossest things I’ve ever heard,” He says, pulling a laptop in front of him as he sat on Yixing’s bed.

Before I could reply, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look over a Yixing, who simply smiles at me. I feel this chilling sensation course through my body, from my shoulder onward. It wasn’t cold, but the feeling was hard to describe. It felt like how your mouth does when you chew on spearmint gum and breathe in. It was a calming, pleasantly cool but not uncomfortably so. I look down at the cut on my arm, wiping away the blood and seeing no cut there any longer. “What in the…?”

“Zhang Yixing,” Baekhyun scolds, crossing his arms at the injured man. A glare and pout covering his face, “You were just shot! Take it easy! You’re going to tire yourself out!” Baekhyun playfully slaps Yixing’s leg, but he meant his words.

“It’s the least I could do for the woman who saved my life,” He argues, removing his hand from my shoulder, wincing as he did, since it was his injured arm. He mutters something in another language, pouting at the man who sat before him.

“Please don’t rip your stitches,” I say, trying to distract them from the blush on my face, “I really don’t want to have to ruin another top.”

He just smiles at me as Baekhyun starts to speak extremely fast, typing even faster as he begins explaining all that happened since Yixing passed out until now. Yixing looks at him, and they start to speak about how the meeting site was compromised one way or the other and that’s how police were there. I sit down in a chair by the door, not knowing if I was allowed to leave and not exactly remembering where to go. I sat in the loveseat, leaving back and watching them as they both converse about whatever it was that happened and if it was successful or not. Soon, my eyes start to close and before I could stop myself I fall asleep so deeply, not even Baekhyun’s loud yelling could wake me.