Something was wrong. Of course, there were so many things wrong to begin with—L couldn’t bare to voice the horrible details of what had happened to Haneul, but he had recounted enough to Sungkyu for him to have a good idea. Pale and shaking, he had almost broken down after pulling his leader aside. He wanted to stop the images haunting his mind, he wanted to stop the pain, Haneul’s pain. She was so different now, he wondered if she would ever be the same again. Sure, she was lost and badly hurt when Infinite first found her, but back then she had merely been cautious, she had been uncertain. Not like now. Now she was afraid. Afraid of every shadow, every hand that reached out to her, every bump in the night as if it were BAP themselves coming back to find her, to finish what they had started. Old Haneul would seek affection from every person she cared about; this Haneul wouldn’t let anyone close enough to touch her. With her ever radiant happiness seemingly missing, this was not the Haneul they had met. Her spirit was broken; her body was bruised.

     Her body was bruised.

     Something was wrong.

     L pulled his wits together long enough to question this single observation. He was the only one left by her bedside, and although he almost feared touching her again, he followed his hunch and placed a hand against her forehead. Her skin was burning hot though her complexion was not flushed. It was quite pale actually, and again L was unsettled by the dark bruises still covering her body—the bruises that were not going away.

     “Haneul, why aren’t you healing?” he asked.

     If she needed real medical attention, it put Infinite in a tough situation. Would police get involved? It would take no time at all to figure out who they were, and law enforcement was not Infinite’s biggest fan. Would Haneul be admitted to a hospital? Who were they supposed to say her family was? Emergency contacts? Someone to cover the expenses? Infinite was all she had, and they had no way of proving any relation to her. Hell, there were no records to even prove her own name. These worries lasted only an instant in the back of L’s mind, and he didn’t dwell on them long enough to weigh any serious courses of action. There had to be a reason why she wasn’t getting better. 

     He hated to wake her when she clearly was in need of rest, but he nudged her gently anyways, wondering if perhaps she was just saving her energy for when she could properly handle healing herself. “Haneul?”

     Still she did not stir, and L was filled with a feeling of dread, as if they had laid her down to a rest she would not get up from. He sat her upright, shaking her with greater urgency this time.

     “Haneul, wake up.” His throat was tight, too tight. Almost too tight to call out for help. “Sungkyu!” he managed as he held her collapsed body in his ar