This is an alternate ending, since the other one was kind of abrupt. Enjoy, and please leave comments!! 

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            He swings through the air, his body performing as though it knows his plans. Opening his eyes, he makes eye contact with a member of the audience, the same man who had entered his tent earlier.

Kyuhyun watches the performance with disinterested eyes, although he admires the aerialist as he flies through the air. Without even meaning to, he thinks of Heechul, thinks back to two years ago when he had fled the circus on Heechul’s orders.

He notices that there is an excess of sadness in the performer’s movements, and he leans forward, almost knocking the air from his lungs as he bends over the railing, much to the chagrin of the patrons behind him. The aerialist makes eye contact with him, and a faint smile passes over his face.

Kyuhyun is free, Heechul thinks. He modifies his routine, changing suddenly to a routine of triumph that his muscles had never forgotten, and the audience gasps as he flips, arcs, hangs from one foot, and the audience is utterly captivated, rising to their feet in thunderous applause.

He feels his chest loosen in relief, lets it wash over him even as the music fades and the technicians desperately play another one, noticing that Heechul is far from ending his routine. Heechul can almost feel the other aerialist beside, does feel the other’s eyes pass over his body.

Kyuhyun flew, Heechul thinks. Pulling his body up until he is standing in the loops meant for his feet, he bows to the audience, basking in their applause, eyes never leaving Kyuhyun’s eyes.

Somehow, Kyuhyun anticipates Heechul’s next move before the aerialist even does, and he fights his way through the crowd, only to be stopped by the balcony railing.

Fly.

Freeing his feet until nothing but his toes were in the loop, Heechul spreads his arms out, and allows his body to bend backwards gracefully.

Closing his eyes, he falls.

In the nick of time, not even the barest fraction of a second too late, his fingers grasp the silken cloth, and his body swings around, every muscle strained to its fullest extent, and his shoulder muscles stand out in high relief, his body beautiful under the single spotlight. The technicians lower him until his feet touch the ground, and in the split second before the spotlight clicks off, Heechul is running, long, thin legs pounding the soft dirt of the arena, jumping up until he can grab the edge of the spectators’ railing, pulling his body over it with seeming ease.

The audience gasps, claps, thinking that his actions were only a part of the show, but Kyuhyun’s eyes widen. Summoning every ounce of courage and strength, he swings himself over the railing, landing a level above Heechul. The elder glances up at him, a blindingly happy smile shining on his face, and together they sprint towards the stairs.

At the doorway, Kyuhyun pauses for just a moment, taking Heechul’s hand once the elder was close enough to grab, ducking out of the tent before the security guards had fully comprehended the situation.

“Hyung, hyung!” Two desperate, plaintive voices cry out, and Heechul jerks to a stop. Tearing his hands free from Kyuhyun, he takes off in the direction of the cries, rounding a corner into a trap cleverly placed by the ringmaster. A heavy net is thrown over his tiny body, and he struggles, fighting to throw it off as he sees the blood that traces in grotesque lines down Taemin’s chest and Kai’s legs.

The heavy pound of footsteps behind him is suddenly silenced, and the cold ice of fear washes over Heechul.

Kyuhyun.

Craning his neck backwards, he sees two guards latch onto the edges of the net that ensnared his dear friend, and Heechul loses all shreds of reason, sliding his hand along the ground until he finds the end of the net, freeing first a hand, then a wrist. The next moment, all of the air is driven from his lungs as the ringmaster springs to land on top of his chest.

No words are traded; heavy, angry breaths hang in the air as the two stare at each other. In the next instant, Heechul resolves to do something that he never even contemplated, evil as the ringmaster was.

A thin, sharp spike protrudes from the ground, one of thousands that hold the main tent to the ground, and with a near-inhuman effort, Heechul’s abdominal muscles tighten, and every burst of strength left in his body is channeled into throwing the ringmaster off of his body and onto the spike. His heart pumps blood through every artery with a fierce determination, fueling his final stand. The man’s body flails through the air, shock registering on his face, panic forcing his movements into a mess of sprawled limbs. A cry falls from his lips, and the next moment, there is no movement at all.

The guards are silent, slowly backing away from the shuddering mess of man that is entangled in the net, their hands falling free of Kyuhyun and the two young aerialists.           Taemin is the first to move, falling to his knees beside Heechul, throwing the net off his friend and cradling the man’s head in his lap. Kai dashes over to Kyuhyun, freeing the older man and moving out of his way as Kyuhyun dives for Heechul. Tears track down Taemin’s cheeks as he Heechul’s face, fingertips lightly coated in the blood that still drips slowly down the older aerialist’s chin and cheeks.

            Kyuhyun lifts Heechul into his arms, softly handling the elder’s fragile body in his strong, steady hands. A few guards remain standing around; unsure of their course of action now that their boss is dead, and the light that shines from the missing aerialist’s eyes is dark and full of the promise of death. Striding quickly to the pulse of sirens as they begin to pierce the frantic clamor of the circus’s patrons, Kyuhyun ducks around tents, slipping out of the gap in the fence much the same way that he had entered the circus.

            Managing somehow to open the door of his car, he lays Heechul down gently in the backseat, and hurries to the driver’s door, only to pause with his hand on the handle. Two pairs of bright, sad eyes watch him and Kyuhyun debates for only a second before ordering the boys into the car. Trusting him, they pile into the backseat with Heechul, and Kyuhyun ducks into the car and squeals from the parking lot, maneuvering quickly to the motel where he was spending the night.

            They smuggle Heechul into the motel room and lay his body gently on the bed. By this time, the blood has dried, and he has not attempted to move, head and limbs falling limply from Kyuhyun’s grasp. Three sets of fingers search in vain for a pulse, but find nothing.

            Kyuhyun takes in the blood as it dries in Heechul’s hair, having fallen from his ears, and in the seconds before the grief can overwhelm him, he makes a diagnosis, delivering it to Taemin and Kai, and then gives in to the overwhelming wave of sadness, dropping his head to Heechul’s hair and inhaling the sharp, clean scent underneath the thin veneer of sweat, breathing in every shred of pain, every sprig of sadness, every burst of smug triumph that had made up the beautiful, strong proud man that was Kim Heechul. Heechul’s heart had burst in his superhuman effort to protect those that he loved, and only the knowledge that his beautiful friend was free at last kept Kyuhyun from surrendering right then and there.

            A year later, Kyuhyun finds himself perched on the edge of a bathtub, staring at the metal in his hand. Barely five weeks had passed until the ever-vengeful police had captured Kai, and he had been killed by a stray bullet shot by an officer who had mistakenly believed that Kai was armed as the boy frantically tried to turn to Kyuhyun, eyes huge and terrified, body shivering with fear. Kyuhyun had had to drag Taemin away from Kai’s limp body, escaping the police by mere millimeters.

            Taemin himself had been killed exactly ten months after, having sunk so far into a depression that he had forgotten to take care of his own body, stumbling behind Kyuhyun one night and dropping dead of exhaustion and dehydration.

            Kyuhyun stares at the razor in his hand, and he presses it to his skin, drawing it across his skin, watching the blood bead and fall into the inch or so of water in the bathtub. Ghostly fingers brush the wound, smearing the blood, and another ghostly hand knocks the razor from his hand, sending it spiraling into the water.

            Another set of ghostly hands, these ones more familiar, touch Kyuhyun’s back, his hair, and a pair of phantom lips touch his cheek, and a familiar voice sings to him. Closing his eyes against the burn of tears, Kyuhyun looks up, finally able to see his friends, now that he was so close to death himself. Kai perches in front of him, his transparent hand resting on Kyuhyun’s knee. Taemin leans over the bathtub on the other side, his eyes trained softly on Kyuhyun’s own.

            Behind him, Kyuhyun can feel Heechul move to his knees, wrapping his arms around Kyuhyun’s torso and embracing his friend tightly, burying his face in Kyuhyun’s strong back.

            Not in words, but in feelings, Kyuhyun feels Heechul tell him the words that he’d always longed to hear,

            I love you.

            Suddenly filled with a new resolve, Kyuhyun bends down and lets the water flow from the tub, the razor looping lazily along with it, and the satisfied smiles of his friends as he stems the flow of blood with a towel, changes into his sleeping clothes and settles down are so bright that they chase away all of the negativity, every sad, lonely lonesome thought gone, dispersed by the light, happy laughter of three freed aerialists.