He could feel his senses returning, though his vision remained black and unseeing. He could feel himself being dragged along by his arms, his skin burning where his captors were gripping him tightly. He inhaled, smelling something familiar in the air but not being able to place it. He had no idea how long he had been out for, whether it was night time or day time or even the same day, but there was one thing he was sure of though; he definitely wasn’t in Edge anymore.

He was slowly aware of brisk footsteps on either side of him, of a murmur of voices above his head.

“You guys clearly haven’t had experience with hostages before,” he said distinctly, sarcasm shading his voice. “First step is to always make sure the hostage’s hands are tied.” He felt his captors stiffen in surprise, and took the opportunity to wrench his arms out of their grasp, grabbing one by the collar and swinging out blindly. The man cried out in pain as his fist connected with a jaw, and Sungkyu reached behind him for his gun.

His hand clutched at empty air.

“…” he swore out loud, before another blow to the back of his head had everything fading out again.

When the world faded in again he was sitting in a chair, his hands bound behind him and his feet tied. He tried to move his wrists, but only resulted in getting his skin pinched. His head ached where he had been struck, and he gritted his teeth.

“Let me in,” said a muffled, commanding voice somewhere to his right, and there was a click. Footsteps clacked towards him.

“What do you want from me?” Sungkyu growled hoarsely. A cold hand brushed against his cheek, then caressed his chin. His head was tilted upwards, and the scent of female perfume filled his nostrils.

“Bring him to my office,” said the voice again, mint-scented breath hitting him in the face. “Now.”  He detected something mildly familiar in the voice, but couldn’t quite place it. The hand disappeared, as did the around his ankles, and he was hauled to his feet roughly before being dragged out of the room and down a corridor. He heard the electronic beeps of fingers against a touchpad, and a door slid open.

He was somewhat aware of being pushed back into a chair, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore; his breathing was shallow and his eyes wide behind his blindfold. He finally realized where he was, finally knew why everything was so familiar in this dark place. His hands were shaking in their hold. They found me.

-

“Min, you stay here and guard the place okay,” CL instructed, pulling on her trench coat. “If we’re not back by nightfall don’t come looking for us.”

“We’ll make sure we’ll be back before then so don’t worry too much,” Jepp added with a smile, ruffling her hair. Min simply stared silently, her eyes and facial expression saying nothing.

“It's already been a week... just bring Sungkyu back,” she said quietly. Jepp and CL exchanged glances, then nodded determinedly at her.

“If there’s any trouble go look for Zico,” CL added as she and Jepp headed out of the door. “Though what the idiot would do this time I can’t even begin to imagine,” she muttered under her breath. Min nodded. “Good luck!” she called out as the heavy doors closed behind them. Jepp raised a hand in response, and then he and CL were gone. Min heaved a sigh, then headed back up to the living quarters, climbing out of her window and sitting on the roof, her knees drawn up to her chest.

“I don’t want to live like this anymore,” she said aloud, her voice soft against the wind that pulled strands out from her braid and whipped them around her face.

“Then don’t,” said a voice behind her, and she snapped her head around, eyes widening as L strode towards her on light feet, his hand already settled on the hilt of the katana at his hip. His hair billowed in the wind, and his eyes were fixated on her. She got to her feet slowly, grasping the sealed scythe that hung at her waist.

“Stop this L,” she commanded. She sounded completely different from when CL and Jepp were with her, the quiet blank tone replaced by a strong firm one, her eyes hard. L didn’t move as her scythe unsealed itself.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you like this,” he remarked. “And I agree, you should stop living like this.” He unsheathed his sword. “You should stop acting in front of your…” He raised an eyebrow, a slight sneer appearing on his lip. “… friends.”

Min narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll tell them when the time is right,” she declared, though her voice wavered a little. Nonetheless, her eyes were hard on his face.  “Leave me alone, L.” Her grip on her handle tightened, her feet already sliding into fighting stance.

“I’ll leave you alone,” L raised his eyes to hers, his gaze dead and hollow, “when you’re dead.”

Letting out a curious bird-like cry, Min rushed towards him, her weapon poised to strike. L sailed lithely into the air as she swung the scythe at him, grabbing her handle and sinking the blade into the roof. “You never really perfected the use of this weapon,” he breathed into her ear. “And now you’re even worse at it.” The next second she flipped over her handle as slashed at her. There was a slight stinging on her cheek, and she raised her hand towards it, gazing back at him when it came back tinged with blood. “No more running,” L took a step towards her. “Not anymore.” And he flew towards her.

Min dislodged her weapon and blocked the attack; the friction between the two blades caused sparks to fly into the air between them. “I never did anything to you,” she hissed at him, pushing him away and swinging at him. “So why me?” She growled at him as he dodged every single one of her attacks expertly, looking decidedly bored.  “Answer me!”

“You know perfectly well why,” he simply replied.

“Hey!” yelled a voice from below. “What do you think you’re doing up there?” L gave the man an annoyed glance, then darted forward towards Min. He was so fast she hardly even saw him coming until she felt him grab her around the waist, felt herself falling backwards before a strange whirling sensation engulfed her body and the gray, wintry sky disappeared from view.

-

“Whoever thought I’d be seeing you again like this.”

Sungkyu stiffened, suddenly hypersensitive. His fingers twitched and he forced himself to keep a straight face. Because even though he couldn’t see, he knew this woman’s voice, knew the danger behind it. He felt her presence behind him and he twitched slightly away. There was a swish of air and his bound hands were suddenly cut free. The blindfold was roughly torn from around his head.

“Hello Sungkyu,” Zinger smiled at him. “And you’re welcome.”

“Zinger,” he acknowledged without smiling, massaging his wrists. “Still haven’t perfected the femininity, have you?”

Zinger laughed, eyes curving into crescents as she settled against the desk, stowing the dagger back into her belt. “That would be Captain Zinger to you,” she smirked. “And I see you still haven’t perfected the art of not getting caught.”

“Took you long enough to find me,” he retorted, still in his chair. “So I’d say I’m better than I used to be. And since when did you go along with the titles? You’ll be asking me to call you ma’am next.” She laughed again, a loud booming laugh that didn’t fit in with her slight stature. She tossed her hair, now done up in a high, blonde ponytail, behind her shoulder.

“I missed you Gyu,” she said pointedly, catching him off guard. She sighed and walked over to a small side table, pouring herself a drink from the jug that stood on it. “Things here have been so… boring since you left. Yunho keeps giving me all these half-assed idiots who can’t even shoot a target shoved right under their nose, and new regulations means that I can’t blow up anything to show them in this building.” She rolled her eyes then quickly put down the cup, covering . “Oh, I’m sorry, that was rude. Want a drink?”

“Zinger,” Sungkyu stayed in his place, arms folded. “What do you want from me?”

Zinger paused in her action of lifting up the jug, her face shadowed. “You’re a deserter Gyu,” she said, her voice suddenly low and changed completely from a few seconds before. “I can’t keep vouching for you. You know that your file still hasn’t been closed right?”

He knew. Of course he knew. The only way to close a case was to make sure that the target was dead.

“You’ve kept me alive for the past three years,” he looked away, quick eyes taking in the floor to ceiling window behind the desk, the maroon drapes looking horribly grand in a way that CL would have hated. He gave himself a slight shake. CL would never see this place anyway, and he wanted to keep it that way. “Can’t you keep doing that? You’re a captain now; just say that I’m dead. I’m as good as anyway,” he added quietly.

“Sungkyu,” Zinger set down the jug and took a step towards him. “I can’t lie to the system, I don’t want to lie to the system, and neither do you. You know that.”

“Zinger, you know what I’ve done. I can’t come back here.” His voice had taken on a slight pleading tone and he hated himself for it, hated that he had sunk so low to have to beg for help from a person he didn’t even trust – even if she was his former partner. Zinger bit her lip for a few seconds, her expression changing yet again.

“Okay,” she announced after a while, walking around her desk. “I’ll do you a favour.” He waited for the next part of the sentence, because this was Zinger, and she believed in equivalent exchange. A favour for a favour, a life for a life. “But only if you do me one.”

Suddenly he realized why she had asked for him to be brought to her. This had been her intention all along – by baiting him with freedom she had him right where she wanted him, and he had fallen for it. Again. And this time there was no backing out. “What?” he asked through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed.

“I need you to go to Deepground.” Her eyes bore deep into his, the playful sparkle gone. “I need you to get into the Facility, and I need you to bring me Kwon Yuri.”

“Who?” Sungkyu raised an eyebrow. She pulled back, smirking a little, then reached in a drawer and drew out a file, pushing it across the table towards him. He got to his feet and stopped it expertly, grimly.

“Everything you need to know is in there,” she indicated. “Consider this the last job you’ll ever do for Aboveground.” She paused. “And it wouldn’t be so bad if you “died” while doing it.” Sungkyu picked up the file and stared at it. It had been three years since he had seen the familiar Aboveground seal against its steel gray paper background, and he felt a sense of nostalgia at the sight of it.

“And after this they’ll leave me alone,” he looked up.

“You have my word,” she promised, and he knew that on this he could trust her, because Zinger hated breaking promises. Annoying as her loyalty and honour was (especially to Aboveground), sometimes it turned out to be a good thing. Then she smiled and tossed two objects at him and he caught them with lightning speed, one object in each hand. “Still as fast as ever,” she grinned as he stared at the guns in his hand. “And I thought you might need those.”

He silently attached the chain to the black gun and stowed both back into their holsters, turning to go. He paused at the doorway. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” she waved him away. “After this, we’ll be even and I don’t want to see your sorry around here anymore. Because if I do, you’ll end up like that mannequin back on your first day of training.” He turned to look at her and she smiled at him, her smile carefree and her eyes hard. “You remember, don’t you?”

“Of course I remember…” he gave her an arrogant half-smirk, and she thought she caught a glimpse of the old Sungkyu somewhere in his expression. “… ma’am.”

He took off down the hallway as two bullets ripped through the open doorway and embedded themselves into the wall where he had been standing only seconds before. His smirk was still in place.