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Hyukjae opened his eyes as he felt the cold breeze crash against his skin. He closed them again, too tired to even try to move. He could feel his skin was burning, his legs and arms hurt. His head was spinning and the only thing he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep comfortably. Hyukjae knew he had a fever.

It wasn’t good. Hyukjae knew it. But he couldn’t do anything. His body has been fighting to keep him awake and healthy but it had reached its limit. Hyukjae couldn’t stand it anymore, the fever was making his head spin and hurt like no tomorrow. The nauseas and vomit got worse in the mornings and his legs didn’t cooperate to make him stand up.

Hyukjae stood there, in the warmest corner of the dirty, cold and dark room, with his eyes closed, hugging his tummy as he hoped for the fever to disappear. What if I die? The thought was even appealing. He could stop the suffering, the smell, the pain, the mortification. No. His baby, Kyuhyun, Siwon. He couldn’t die like that. He had to at least keep on living, to keep his baby alive with him.

Time passed and Hyukjae couldn’t even open his eyes. He was panting lightly, his body felt hot and it was horribly painful. He had never been sick before because Siwon would always make him take medicine for the sickness not to progress. But Siwon wasn’t there, and the kidnappers weren’t as kind as one would wish for them to be.

Hyukjae felt a hand in his forehead but he didn0’t have the strength to move to pry it away from him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at the Chinese man with the plate of food on his hand. He was worried, Hyukjae could see, but it wouldn’t change anything. Because that man would never help him escape as much as Hyukjae wouldn’t help that man escape as well.

The man left the food on the floor in front of him and ran outside. Hyukjae could only see the figures of his body signaling the guards in the door that something was wrong with him.

A minute later, maybe more, maybe less, Hyukjae felt someone squat in front of him and he tried to look up, seeing how the man that was at the door before was pressing his hand on his forehead. “Hey, you can’t get sick now,” he scolded and Hyukjae would have scoffed if he had the strength to.

Hyukjae didn’t protest when his body was lifted and taken to the horrible bed that he refused to lay on. As soon as he felt the smell coming from there, he struggled to set himself free, having just enough time as to turn around and throw up on the floor. He had the man still holding him up and hissing annoyingly because of him. Hyukjae couldn’t believe he was lucky enough for that man not to hit him right there.

Hyukjae laid down the bed and panted heavily. He couldn’t stand it. The pain, the fever, the nauseas, everything was torturing him. He couldn’t breathe properly and he could only close his eyes, barely taking his hands to his tummy to caress it gently. He was trying to console his baby.

“We don’t have medicine. We can’t also take you to see a doctor or bring one here, so you better get better by your own,” Hyukjae couldn’t even hum in response. “Eat everything, I’ll make them bring more water for you. You can’t die because of this, we need you alive.”

Hyukjae wasn’t sure why he felt slightly relieved knowing he would at least live.

He had no idea how long it had been when he was forced up to sit against the wall, or more accurately, the wood. He opened his eyes slightly, seeing the Chinese man placing a spoon in front of his mouth. Hyukjae wasn’t hungry, as always, but he had to eat to get better. He opened his mouth slightly, just enough for the spoon to fit in his mouth and he chewed the tasteless food slowly, swallowing it and closing his eyes because even that was tiring.

He finished all his food and then he was forced to drink water. Hyukjae didn’t even move. He couldn’t do it. He was tired and he wanted to sleep. He knew it was cold and the breezes that crashed against his skin burnt it, making him feel like he was being skinned alive.

His once red and juicy lips were now broken and dry. His eyes were adorned with dark circles under them, his pale skin looked paler than before, covered in all that dirt. His back hurt from so much trembling; Hyukjae really needed a good rest.

After a few minutes of being left alone. Hyukjae threw up again and he hated how he couldn’t even move. He hated being so useless because he had to throw up on himself and he felt disgusted. The tears started flowing down almost immediately, down the path that was already drawn by previous tears along all that dirt.

Hours passed, minutes, days; Hyukjae couldn’t know. He fainted and that Chinese man forced him to eat again and drink more water. It was cold and it made him feel uncomfortable, but nothing was as horribly as having to be wrapped in his own fluids.

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Hyukjae opened his eyes. His legs and arms still hurt, his head was still spinning but the fever was gone and he felt slightly better. He took his hand to his tummy and hummed a low song for only the two of them before standing up and walking away from that bed that made him want to throw up again.

Suddenly, light invaded the room and Hyukjae looked up to see who was coming. It was too early to feed him and too late to wake him up. He hugged himself in the warm corner and looked at two men entering the place, looking directly at him.

There wasn’t any word shared and the men forced Hyukjae on his feet, dragging him out from that horrible room.

Hyukjae held his breathe, struggling to set himself free before he was thrown away to the grass. He had to close his eyes and cover them with his hands. It was a sunny day, weird for a November day but Hyukjae liked how his body warmed up slowly. His eyes couldn’t take the light and he had to only look down his body before he was forced on his feet again.

“He’s coming today, and he wants you to be decent,” that was all the explanation he got before the Chinese man came to him, taking off his clothes.

“W-What are you doing?” Hyukjae’s voice was hoarse and dry. He backed away slightly and shook his head. His heart was beating fast and he was getting anxious. He was definitely director Jung. But he had no idea what decent meant.

The Chinese man looked at him and then looked behind to the guys giving them their backs. He looked again at Hyukjae and motioned what Hyukjae thought was showering. “S-Shower?” Hyukjae asked and the man looked at him confused. Obviously, they would never understand each other but if him taking his clothes off would mean shower, then that would be exceptionally good.

Hyukjae pointed at his dirty clothes and looked at the man who simply looked at him and motioned him to take them off. Hyukjae bit his lower lip and looked around. His entire dignity was gone but he didn’t want to be dirty anymore. The sun against his clothes was making him sweat and that made the smell even worse.

At the end, the Chinese man helped him out from the disgusting clothes he was wearing and pushed them aside leaving him in his boxers. His wrists and ankles had to be untied and Hyukjae thought about running right then. But then again, he didn’t’ have the strength to or even a plan.

It was a sunny day, but it was still slightly cold so Hyukjae shivered slightly and hugged his own body to get warmer.

Hyukjae was forced to sit down a plastic chair and he stood still as cold water was poured over his head. He gasped for air and held the chair tightly, closing his eyes as he felt the cold liquid run down his spine. His body was trembling as more water was poured over his body, making the soft breeze feel even colder against his skin. He felt a pair of hands massaging his scalp and he was thankful for how soft and gentle it felt. He could feel even how sticky and smelly his hair was before and he hated it.

The soap the man was using was nothing as Hyukjae remembered to have used before, but he definitely didn’t care. He was thankful that the man washed his hair as many times as it was necessary until it cleaned entirely.

There was nothing as a sponge for his skin and the man used a piece of clothe that god knew where he got it. The next step was his face and Hyukjae closed his eyes as he felt the piece of cloth go through his delicate skin, taking away the dirt that was stuck there; then his arms, his torso, his back, his neck, his abdomen, his legs, everything, as many times as it was necessary until he was left and completely clean.

Hyukjae brought his legs up against his chest, hugging them as he stayed still in the plastic chair. He was ashamed and embarrassed, but he knew, there was nothing else he could do. His dignity was all gone by then. There were no towels for him. He had to stay there sitting until his body dried by itself, under the sunlight that somehow made him feel better.

He looked around and noticed the men were gone and only the Chinese man was left. He looked at the latter, how he was looking around for a stick that later washed. He wrapped a piece of cloth around the stick and soaked it in water before rubbing soap in it. Hyukjae didn’t know what that was but he didn’t doubt it for long as he was forced to open his mouth and the man washed his teeth with the improvised toothbrush.

Hyukjae gagged and closed his eyes tightly as the man brushed his teeth carefully and roughly, as if there was something that didn’t go away. The taste was bad and Hyukjae wanted to spit it out but he couldn’t. The water was like a blessing when he could finally rinse his mouth but not for too long, because his teeth were brushed again and then again until they were perfectly clean.

Finally, Hyukjae was left alone while the man washed his clothes and Hyukjae could only see, not stepping down because there was mud all around and he didn’t want to get dirty so soon. “What’s your name?” he asked and the man looked at him before looking away confused.

Hyukjae bit his lower lip and looked down. Not Korean, he wished he had paid more attention to his Chinese classes before. But it was so hard that it was difficult to learn for him. “Name,” he said in what he remembered in Chinese.

The man looked at him and pointed at himself. Hyukjae nodded.

The man looked around, as if making sure they were alone. “Wang Lei,” it was more like a whisper and he quickly turned around to keep washing Hyukjae’s clothes.

Hyukjae nodded and pointed at himself. “Hyukjae,” he said and Wang Lei looked at him for a few seconds before nodding and turning around.

Hyukjae sighed and looked at his wrists, they were so thin and bruised that he didn’t believe those were his own arms. He looked at his feet, now clean but his ankles bruised as well. They didn’t hurt as much as before, probably because he wasn’t tied.

Some noises could be heard from far where they were and Hyukjae looked up scared and nervous, looking then how Wang Lei dressed him up quickly and desperately, as if he didn’t want someone else to see Hyukjae in such vulnerable state.

Hyukjae didn’t complain. The new clothes he was wearing weren’t exactly new but they were clean and warm. Wang Lei also gave him warm sock and the same pair of shoes he was wearing before.

Hyukjae was confused. He gasped as Wang Lei wrapped a rope around his ankles and wrists again. “No!” he exclaimed struggling and gave up when he realized he had no energy to fight. The ropes weren’t as tight as before and Hyukjae was sure he would take them away after a few struggling so he realized Wang Lei didn’t want to hurt him even more.

He looked at the man and mouthed a ‘thank you’ in Chinese as three men went to where they were.

Wang Lei quickly turned around and kept washing his clothes before he was forced on his feet, pushing him towards a new place he didn’t know.

Hyukjae thought nothing could scare him anymore, but he proved himself wrong as soon as he felt his heart beating harshly against his chest, his body trembling again in fear and his eyes opening widely as he saw Director Jung in front of him, smirking slightly at him.

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A/N: Angsty + mpreg requested fic~

Hello everyone! This is Eri! Kkkkkk

I just wanted to ask you to please answer this poll for me~ (even silent readers, if any)

it's really important that you answer this, please!

So this poll was just to decide what to do with this story. I won't change the story line guys, I know it's heavy angst but I warned you since the beginning. I've planned this story for years, each one of the scenes, it's not fair that I change it so I won't. For those who do not like angst, I understand, I'll write you fluffy drabbles to compensate. 

Truth is, I thought something was wrong because KyuHyuk readers are always really cheerful and you always comment a lot but I noticed not many people were commenting and it kind of let me down (though there were hundreds of views) but I saw a lot are reading so it's fine now, thank you for keeping up with this story!

I love you all and I'm sorry for bothering with the polol, hehehe. I know you're busy so it's alright, I'm happy you all are reading!