it's where my demons hide

Hyukjae’s dreams are filled with ghosts that refuse to die.

In the desert of Afghanistan there’s a little girl with dead eyes and a badly burnt face, Junsu and his missing limbs, and a faceless man with bullet holes all over his chest.  

Every time Hyukjae closes his eyes he’s back in Afghanistan, in a house made out of mud bricks, and in his hands is the M-16 rifle. All around him are explosions and gun fires, and there are men shouting over each other in the discord of the battle. Junsu is in the adjacent bedroom to him and their squad, and a few feet away from them are a flight of stairs where men armed with AK-47 rains down a hail of bullets on them.

They hide behind the walls of the bedroom to protect themselves and trade bullets at every chance, and suddenly someone from above the stairs throw down a grenade into the bedroom where Junsu was. Hyukjae’s feels his heart stop as he turns to look in Junsu’s direction but--then the brick house dissolves and Hyukjae is in the middle of a burning town and a girl stands in front of him.

Her face is dirty and her beautiful clothes are stained but her eyes are bright, alive and hopeful, and when she extends a hand out toward him, what a small hand compares to his and he feels like a giant in front of her, Hyukjae reaches out to touch it but flames abruptly engulfs her and he is forced back, shutting his eyes for a brief moment.

When he opens them, half of her face is seared to the bone and her tiny hands are a burned and blackened flesh but her screams are silent and her pleads are wordless. Her hand is still stretch out toward him and Hyukjae surges forward to touch her—save her, to do something, but the scenery shifts and Hyukjae is in a worn out room alone with nameless man and they have their guns train on each other.

They’re at the standstill and each breath they breathe feels a lot like their last. The entire world freeze for moment for the two of them and it’s eerie.

The man’s face is cover up with a black turban and Hyukjae can’t see anything but the whites of his eyes. This is the first time he is up close and personal to another human being who is considered an enemy on the grounds of war. Hyukjae had fired a gun before and took shots needed to make a kill but to fire a gun in midst of an adrenaline-filled battlefield and every moment feel like live or die; he has no time to spare his enemy any kind thoughts.

It’s the same cold detachment that marine basic training had beat into him and in the chaos of war that’s what keep him alive.

But the man in front of him feels less like an enemy of the United States, now that Hyukjae could see the small shakes in his hands and the way his eyes darts frantically to the only doorway out of the room and back to Hyukjae.

It makes him get carry away and wonders: who is this man; does he have a kid or a wife, and will--will he be missed if he’s gone? Hyukjae knows that behind every face of their enemy is someone son, husband, and brother but Hyukjae is taught to not to think of the like that, to disregard all empathy he may for them because in the end it is him or them and Hyukjae thinks of friends, family, and most of all Donghae back home and he doesn’t want to die here in this battered room.  

There’s a manic look in the man’s eyes now and the brief moment of reprieve between them--it felt at least like five minutes but it must have been only seconds--breaks.   

The man surges forward and it’s hopeless desperation, the fervent desire to live because he forgets about his gun--he could have just pull the trigger on Hyukjae but Hyukjae is save for that moment. He aims to tackle Hyukjae but the surprise that had taken Hyukjae at the man’s sudden action is quickly overwrites by instinct and training kicking in and Hyukjae has the faceless man thrown onto the ground, his gun is pushed aside, as Hyukjae twists the man’s right arm to his back and reaches for his own gun but then he hears a painful, “Hyukjae!” from the man underneath him.

Hyukjae blinks.

“Hyukjae--wake up.”

Again, but the voice is starting to sound achingly familiar and--

“Hyukjae, you’re dreaming. Wake the up!”

Hyukjae shuts his eyes and when he open them again, he is back in his bedroom in Lower Manhattan and underneath him, with his right arm twisted awkwardly behind his back, is his boyfriend--Donghae.

Hyukjae immediately jumps off him to the far corner of the bed and the adrenaline and fighting instinct that had seized him moments ago drains out of him in one big swoop, and he’s left with his heart pounding loudly against his ribcage and his ears ringing loudly.  His entire world feels like it had shift on its axis and it’s jarring.

His arms are in a defensive position, even though he recognizes the person in bed with him is Donghae, his Donghae, but his entire body is tense and he can’t break the thought of fight, fight roaring within him.

Hyukjae glances down at the bed sheet and breathes, taking a deep breath and letting it out. The bedroom lights are bright, so he has to remind himself that’s it a Saturday night and he’s home, home, nowhere near Afghanistan.

When he faces Donghae again, he lowers his head and the words spill out of him.  “. I’m sorry, so sorry,” he says, raking a hand furiously through his hair as he watch Donghae sits up and faces him.

Donghae his sore arm in a painful grimace but tries to give Hyukjae a smile anyway. “It’s okay.”  

Hyukjae crawls across the bed and reaches for Donghae’s injured arm. “Let me see it. You might have to go to the hospital if--if I had yank it back too hard.”

Donghae’s smile spread wider, as if that will calm Hyukjae’s nerves. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” Donghae says, pulling his injure arm away. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore and this is my fault, okay. I saw you were struggling in your sleep so I’d tried to make sure you were alright but it was my mistake there. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Hyukjae looks at Donghae straining himself for Hyukjae and hiding how his face had gone ashen white, and he’s so mad at himself. “No--don’t apologize. I hurt you,” he chokes out.

“It’ll heal,” Donghae assures him.

“I could have broken your arm completely though!” he shouts, thinking of a how easily it would be yank Donghae’s right arm out of his socket and breaks every bone in his body land Donghae wouldn’t even be able to defend himself again Hyukjae, and Hyukjae wouldn’t even be aware of what he is doing to Donghae.

“Yes, but you didn’t,” Donghae tries again, inching forward now toward Hyukjae.

Hyukjae shakes his head, “I can’t--” he moves to get up, “can’t risk this happening again. I’m going to sleep on the couch from now on.”

“No Hyukjae--its fine. It was an accident and this is the first time that it had happen so stopped overreacting over it!” Donghae reaches a hand out to touch him but Hyukjae pushes him and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Don’t you get?!” Hyukjae says furiously, his hands are shaking now and he doesn’t feel sane enough to have this conversation. “I am dangerous, to you and everyone else. When I walk out of our home, every loud banging sound make me want to drop on the floor and cover my head. Every person that approaches me makes me wary and I constantly have to assess the danger level of every new place I visit. Just yesterday, my head is filled with thoughts of ways to defend myself and you while we were grocery shopping and sometimes I get so lost in my old memories of Afghanistan that I think I’m still at war. I get so anxious over a simple a candle lit that being near it can turn me into a sobbing mess,” he laughs brokenly,” how ridiculous is that. And when you had approached me to talk about it, I cruelly lash out at you and makes you feel like you have to walk around eggshell with me,” he looks away and breathes, heavy and loud, before turning back to Donghae one more time, “There’s something seriously wrong with me, Donghae.”

It’s an admission, a confession, and a plea for help all at once. While Junsu left his legs in a brick house in Afghanistan, Hyukjae came back to the United States with demons in his head and ghosts that plague his dream.

“Hyukjae,” Donghae says, sounding so sad and heartbroken.

But Hyukjae can’t bear to see the pity in Donghae’s eyes, because his pride wouldn’t let him. He turns away once again and gets out of the bed. “We’ll just leave it at that. I’m going to sleep on the couch for several nights, okay? I just need to get my head straight first.”

“Wait--Hyukjae,” Donghae calls out to him.

Hyukjae doesn’t stop reaching for the door despite the ache in his heart, because Donghae has been so good and accommodating him.  He tries to not push Hyukjae into anything and treats him like something fragile and can be easily broken but that just make Hyukjae more furious, at Donghae or himself he doesn’t know. He just hate this side of himself that hurt Donghae in his own bitterness.

“Please,” Donghae says from behind, soft and desperate, “just stay for a bit and hear me out.”

Hyukjae freezes right at the doorway. He doesn’t know why he did it, but maybe it’s the needy and helpless in Donghae’s voice that he had never heard before that drawn Hyukjae back in. He never wants to hear that from Donghae. Ever.

He turns to face Donghae and Donghae smiles crookedly as he pats the place next to him on the bed. Hyukjae reluctantly drags himself over to the bed again and gingerly takes the seat next to Donghae.

He owes Donghae this at least, even though a small part of him, the one in the deepest corner of his mind, thinks this may be it for them. Donghae is calling quit because he can’t deal with Hyukjae and his many issues that he’s not the Hyukjae that Donghae had dated before we left for Afghanistan. And Hyukjae wouldn’t have blamed him either.

Then--he can feel Donghae scooting closer, right behind him, pressing his forehead against his back, and Donghae’s warm breath washes over him. He circles his arms around Hyukjae’s waist and they stay like that in the dead silent.

Hyukjae glances down at the hands around his midsection and covers Donghae’s hands with his own. For the first time since he came back, they never felt closer than this moment.

Donghae sighs and tilts his head up slightly to press a kiss through the cotton fabric of Hyukjae's shirt. Hyukjae shivers but doesn’t let go or move away and he could feel Donghae smiling from behind him.

Donghae moves his lips away from Hyukjae’s back for a bit and that’s when he begins, “When you told me you were going overseas, and I said I would support you wholeheartedly well--that’s a half lie because I got so scare that I read every news I could find about the war over there. The more I read it, the more anxious I became but I knew you wanted to do this so I didn’t want to stop you.”

Donghae pauses for a moment, and Hyukjae feeling like someone had ripped his heart out. He didn’t know that Donghae had felt like that when Hyukjae had left Donghae, all he saw was smile on his face and blessing on his lips. Even when Hyukjae’s parents were wary of Hyukjae’s enlistment Donghae had persuade his parents to let Hyukjae go and it’s hard to believe how Donghae encouragements were a mask to hide his fear.

But, it’s Donghae and Hyukjae knows that Donghae wouldn’t let his own fear and insecurity to stop Hyukjae from doing what he wants, because Donghae selflessness is almost to the level of martyrdom.

Donghae in a deep breath and continues. “After you left, I pay even more attention to news outlets and every time I hear about any incident in Afghanistan or rising casualties over there, I thought that maybe it was you despite knowing that you’re not station in the area that it set me off in a panic because my own fear beat out any rational thought. So I called and checked up on you often with one of the military offices and I worry everyday if you’re eating alright, if you’re okay, and if what you aren’t saying in your letters or phone calls. I find myself waiting and dreading your calls because I don’t know if it’s you calling me or it’s the Marine Corps telling me that they’re sorry and--and--” Donghae chokes on his next word.

Hyukjae feels wetness on his back and he tightens his hold on Donghae’s hand. He didn’t know--it never crosses his mind that Donghae was facing all these feelings while Hyukjae was at war. He thought that Donghae was doing okay, because their letters and phone calls with others were filled with Donghae talking the new movie he saw, his co-workers, the current news and gossips, and he sounded entirely too happy for Hyukjae to even doubt it one bit. But it was a facade and Hyukjae feels like the biggest idiot for not noticing.

“Donghae,” he lets out, wanting to reassure him, to make him feel better but Donghae cuts him off.

“When you were done with your tour, I was so happy because I thought I got you back in one piece but as the days passed I realized that maybe things weren’t quite alright. You were closed-off to me, like there is this giant wall that separates us and I want to break through but you won’t let me. I want to know what was it like for you in Afghanistan, I want to understand you, and help you carry your burden but,” Donghae hesitates before continuing,” I won’t ask for what you aren’t ready to share. I’ll wait for the day when you would tell me about what you saw and experience there. I’ll listen with open ears and mind and I won’t judge. So, please don’t shut me out. I just got you back and I don’t want to lose you again. I love you so much, Hyukjae. Just the thought of having you so close to me but so far makes me ill,” he pleads to Hyukjae.

His voice sounding so distress and lost that Hyukjae would do anything to fix it, to fix them.

“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae mutters, “I didn’t realize what you were going through. I love you, Donghae, and sometimes I love you so much that I’m scare of what you might say because the things that I have done and the things I saw over there isn’t kind and that you may hate me for no longer being the Hyukjae you once knew.”

“Never,” Donghae promises fervently. “You won’t get rid of me that easily and I accept every part of you, even the broken ones.”

Then, Hyukjae abruptly grabs tightly onto Donghae’s left hand and yanks him forward, making Donghae land hazardly in his lap.

Donghae scrunches his face up at Hyukjae displeasing but Hyukjae ignores him and pulls him into a kiss, brutal and desperate, like he’s trying to swallow the entirety of Donghae if he could.

“Thank you,” he says, when they finally pull apart. “Thank you, I’m so bless to have you by my side.”

“Me too,” Donghae says, putting his head on one of Hyukjae’s shoulders.

Hyukjae wraps one of his arms around Donghae’s waist and the other his hair. A peaceful calm sweeps over him and it’s the first time he feels like he’s truly home.  

Hyukjae’s Afghanistan is full of nights where the sky is lit up by the strategic air strike on key Taliban’s hold, the sound of mortars fire became his unwanted lullaby, and the rolling desert heat was aching hot and night even more oppressive. His brothers, not in blood but that doesn’t stop them from bleeding for each other, face was wary and tired as they marched forward toward their next destination and death stalked them ever so closely.

This is Hyukjae’s Afghanistan and she is unforgiving and merciless but sometimes in the quiet of the night when the airstrike had stop and Hyukjae looks up at the clear starry night sky--nearly invisible to him back in New York--and out toward the still and silent desert, he can’t help finding her so beautiful in her abrasiveness.

She has all his stories, the good ones, the bad ones, the ugly ones, and the beautiful ones, and all of them he had kept inside of him, festering like an ugly bruise that he picks away at each day.

One day, when he’s truly ready he’ll tell Donghae about the burnt little girl, the brick house with the grenade, and the man who only for a brief second share an entire world with Hyukjae.

But till then, they’ll make it work because Hyukjae is still broken and Donghae is still anxious over him. Yet, Donghae won’t stop fighting for Hyukjae and Hyukjae is too selfish to let Donghae go. They both stubbornly hanging onto their love.

Hyukjae’s dreams are filled with ghosts that refuse to die—but Donghae is warm by his side and the demons in his head are quiet for once. He’s back home with the man he loves and it’s not the end of the world for either of them. There’s still tomorrow and if there’s something that war had taught him, which he had taken to heart, is that tomorrow is a new day.

notes: i wanted to do a portrayal of soldier with ptsd who just came back from their tour and also about those that were left behind as their friends/family/love ones go to war and struggle with their fear and own feeling of helplessness, i hope i was able to get that across at least. also, the fact that the healing process is long and grueling and not easy at all! for hyukjae and donghae here, the road to recovery is going to be bumpy but i'm sure they'll be fine :D. thank you so much for reading <333. this is different from my usual fic but i really like this a lot b/c this issue is something that i care deeply about. happy belated veterens day!