Donghae doesn’t notice, at first, that the taxi has stopped. Hyukjae is looking out of the window through the downpour, frowning.

‘Is this it?’

‘Yeah,’ Donghae whispers. He rouses himself and pats his jacket pocket for his wallet. Then he checks in his jeans pockets, feeling dazed. Where are his things?

Hyukjae presses his lips together and silently hands the driver some money.

‘Have you got it from here?’ he asks Donghae.

‘Yeah,’ Donghae whispers again. He opens the taxi door and braces himself against it to slowly get to his feet. Earlier, adrenaline had kept him moving but now – especially after sitting in the rain for an hour – he’s feeling stiff and sore. His knee, which plays up at the best of times, is aching. His shoulder hurts too. It’s strange how he feels sort of numb, and yet everything is hurting at the same time.

He remembers to turn back.

‘Thank you,’ he says to Hyukjae. The other man hasn’t closed the taxi door yet, and is watching him with unreadable eyes. Donghae gives a little wave and then limps slowly away through the puddles towards the narrow flight of stairs that lead up to his apartment.

Behind him a door slams and he hears the taxi drive away.

Then there’s a series of quick splashes and suddenly Hyukjae’s beside him again, umbrella overhead, frown still firmly in place.

‘You’re not going to be able to get up the stairs you idiot,’ he says. ‘Where’s the elevator?’

‘There isn’t one,’ Donghae says, gripping the hand rail and taking a deep breath before the first step. ‘If- if you don’t want to wait for me to go up and get the money for the ride, I’ll pay you back next week.’

‘The taxi already left,’ Hyukjae says shortly. ‘I’ll call for another once we’re at your place.’

It’s a slow process, getting up the stairs. Donghae just focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, holding the railing tightly for support. Hyukjae hovers slightly behind him, awkwardly trying to hold the umbrella over them both while also keeping one hand out in case Donghae slips backwards. He keeps his irritated expression on as well. Luckily Donghae only lives on the fourth floor. It’s not a very large apartment block, old and worn and squeezed in amongst industrial buildings. He doesn’t know where his keys are either (the same place as his wallet probably) but he keeps a spare under the doormat.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Hyukjae mutters, but he follows Donghae inside and out of the rain.

The apartment is cold. The curtains are still open and it’s dark. Hyukjae waits in the tiny entrance with his umbrella while Donghae shuffles about turning the lights on and getting the heater going. He goes to his bedroom and searches for some money to repay Hyukjae then takes it out to the other man.

‘Here,’ he says, holding it out.

Hyukjae hasn’t come any further inside. He is frowning around, and Donghae would be embarrassed about the mess only his head is aching and he really just wants to get in bed and cry. But he can’t do that, he needs to call the hospital, he needs to talk to Shindong, he needs to find his phone-

‘You live here?’ Hyukjae asks. He folds his arms. ‘Or is this like, your little secret place for when you feel like slumming it?’

‘I- um- I live here,’ Donghae says, and he’d have been maybe angry at that comment if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. ‘It’s not that tidy today, but I wasn’t expecting anyone.’

Hyukjae just looks confused. He doesn’t take the money Donghae is offering. Donghae recounts it, trying to focus. Has he given the wrong amount? Not enough?

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘How much do I owe you? I- um, didn’t notice what the charge was, I’ve got a bit of a headache.’

‘Your head hurts?’ Hyukjae says sharply. ‘Why didn’t you say so? We should have gone to the hospital!’

‘No!’ Donghae massages his temples. ‘I was there all day. It’s not- it’s not from the accident, I just get headaches lately. I think it’s stress.’

Hyukjae gets a strange look on his face. He blinks, and his mouth makes a sort of involuntary movement.

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Since when? Just- just for the last few weeks?’

Donghae takes a deep breath.

‘Hyukjae,’ he says. ‘I hate to ask anything else but can I please use your phone? To ring the hospital?’

‘Oh,’ Hyukjae says again. It’s clearly not what he expected. ‘Yeah, here.’

He passes it over and Donghae looks up the number and dials, sitting on the edge of the sofa and chewing on his fingernails anxiously. Hyukjae places his umbrella down and comes into the apartment just a little bit further, looking around warily and sitting on one of the stools at Donghae’s table.

‘Hello,’ Donghae says when he finally gets through to the emergency department. ‘Um, I want to query about a patient? His name’s Henry Lau, we came in earlier today?’

He is put through to another department, then forwarded on to someone else. Each time he is transferred, the sense of dread he is feeling gets worse. He starts to feel sick, his stomach in knots. It’s been hours now. What if-

What if…

The possibility that Henry has not survived is hanging over him like a sledgehammer.

When he had left the hospital earlier, they had still been waiting for an update. Shindong, pacing up and down, making calls, trying to contact Henry’s family overseas. A woman from HR who was filling in paperwork. Two other colleagues who had turned up and just sat quietly to wait, because Henry had nobody in Korea, but at the same time was everyone’s little brother.

And Donghae had just sort of-

Walked out.

Overcome by everything