“Where is he?” Hongbin shouts as Hakyeon pulls his arm back a second too late.

The whole department is staring at him, a delicate punctuation mark in the air, a full stop or a question mark perhaps, before everyone starts buzzing again. Hakyeon takes him by the shoulders, and holds him by the wrist. Taekwoon closes the door after them, shaking hands stuffed deep into his pockets. The police station is small, cramped, not sure if from the physical space, or the amount of people that’s actually here. It’s in a bad neighborhood – the police try their best, but it’s hard to weed out evil when evil is everywhere, down to the schools and playgrounds.

An officer approaches them and he looks proper; real proper, not like some of his team, all dressed down in t-shirts and perpetually holding stained coffee mugs. He’s wearing a pressed collared shirt, lanyard arranged neatly around his neck almost as if he took time in the morning to do that.

“Hi, I’m assuming you’re here for Han Sang Hyuk?”

Hakyeon increases the pressure on Hongbin’s wrist. “Yes, where is he?”

“He’s safe,” The officer says, pinched. “We’re going to need you to answer a few questions first.”

“No.” His voice cracks. “You don’t understand, I need to see him now. He’s not – stable, he’s, I don’t know what he’s gonna be like or –”

“Sir, we’re well aware of the fact that he’s not stable. But as of right now, he is fine. You can’t see him until we get some answers, so please co-operate.” The officer holds up his lanyard. “I’m the senior officer here and I assure you we’re taking good care of him.”

Hakyeon tightens his grip and nods before Hongbin can object, “We understand.”

The officer’s eyebrows come together, and in a seemingly last-minute decision to trust them, starts to walk down a hallway.

***

“What’s your relationship with Han Sanghyuk?” It’s not the officer asking the questions, just some young kid probably fresh out of police academy. They’ve been here for a while, apparently they need every detail about Hongbin’s life, but this question is the first curveball.

Hongbin startles and squirms a little. “I guess… I’m his guardian? He’s staying with me. I have papers stating I can make medical decisions for him.”

“When did he start living with you?”

“A couple of months ago.”

The policeman is obviously unsatisfied with the answer, but he continues anyway. “Would you say you adequately provide Han Sanghyuk with proper food, care, and shelter?”

Hongbin looks up at the officer, a little tired of all the irrelevant questions and Hakyeon leaves a light touch on his right shoulder to remind him to stay calm. “Yes.”

“What about his day-to-day responsibilities?”

“I’m helping him on that.”

The policeman circles something on the piece of paper in front of him – a piece of paper Hongbin cannot see and he starts to become defensive. His instincts don’t listen.

Hongbin tries again, tripping on his words. “It’s his responsibility but sometimes – because of, his memory, his PTSD, he can’t remember things well. So I have to remind him and help him remember.”

The policeman grunts, scribbles something on the margin and then underlines something else.

“There are signs of abuse –” He starts brusquely, and Hongbin clenches his fist automatically, anger rising so quickly it surprises him.

The officer rushes to get up from his seat and shoots a pointed look at the policeman before looking at Hongbin. “We’ll leave it at that. I’ll do the paperwork with him later.”

He signs the form, and Hongbin notes that there are a lot more words on the paper than necessary – a lot more circles as well. He’s starting to get worried and he almost makes a scathing comment when the officer just starts to walk down a hallway with a “Follow me”.  

***

Hakyeon, Taekwoon, and Hongbin stand behind a two-way mirror.

The room is cold, colder than any of them would expect, and who knows how many murderers the room has seen. Hongbin wonders if the cold air in the room is caused by some unearthly aura emanating from the evil of the people that once sat in that chair, that chair that Sanghyuk is occupying.

There’s a thick woolen blanket around the boy’s shoulders, and he looks smaller than he usually already does. His legs are drawn up to his chest – uncomfortable, but Sanghyuk doesn’t seem to mind at all. He doesn’t even seem like he’s present, the way he gets when he’s left in silence for too long, or when someone says something wrong. His eyes are downcast, but Hongbin can still tell from his fingers gripping the blanket a little too tight and his hunched shoulders that he’s ready to drop to his knees any moment. There’s a mug of tea in front of him, completely untouched, and left to chill. There’s a teaspoon on the table, and Hongbin flinches at the thought of how loud the clatter of it on the metal table must have be.

“Any idea why he’s here?”

Hongbin tears his eyes away from the glass. “No, not at all.”

“He walked all the way here, just to tell us about the things that have been done to him.” The officer looks at Hongbin with an unreadable expression, then turns to look at Sanghyuk with a sad smile on his face. “When he came in here and told me he was going to report a Lee Byunghee, I knew this boy could crack the case wide open. He’s the person we’ve been waiting for.”

“You mean there’s already case on the man?”

“A long-drawn case.” The officer sighs. “No one can do anything about it because there’s no concrete evidence, except for one other boy. A drug addict, so he doesn’t have any reliability whatsoever. But Sanghyuk – He started – started spewing out all these other names and the things they’ve done… He says he can prove it. Don’t know how, but I really hope he can.”

“Three, right?” Hongbin asks in a helpless voice. “Three names?”

The officer doesn’t answer for a long time. Not because he’s trying to recall, but because he doesn’t think he can ever forget this one.

“Three, and perhaps a few dozen more names still.”

There is an uncomfortable silence, skittish and evasive.

“I’ll bring you to see him, he’s been here for a couple of hours and I think he just needs a familiar face.” The officer opens the door with a loud clang, the unforgiving sound reverberating around the freezing room. “Let’s go.”

***

They open the door and Sanghyuk doesn’t look up, only just pulls his blanket in tighter, as if he’s too tired to do anything else. It’s only when Hongbin starts walking towards him that he glances upwards, his eyes starting to clear as he fights to recognize a face.

Hongbin wants to weep with relief because even though the fact that Sanghyuk hasn’t been present isn’t okay, Hongbin recognizes the way Sanghyuk becomes okay, the fading cloudiness in his eyes, the slowly slackening muscles in his jaw. Literally nothing about this situation is good – they’re in a police station, Hongbin feels like it’s a miracle that his heart hasn’t already stopped from so much shock, and Sanghyuk isn’t himself. But he’s is alive. Sanghyuk is alive, so nothing else could possibly matter. 

It only takes three strides for Hongbin to reach the middle of the room.

He waits patiently, hands twitching at his sides for a sign of recognition – any sign that means that Sanghyuk isn’t completely gone, floated away like a balloon into the sky.

And then, “Hyung.”

Sanghyuk suddenly feels human heat on his cheeks, hands fussing over him, and he doesn’t ever want Hongbin to stop looking for him – to stop finding him. The ghost of a smile slides onto his face as he closes his eyes and nuzzles desperately into Hongbin’s palm.  

“, Hyuk,” Hongbin breathes out. “I was so ing worried. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here? What happened? Are you okay?”

There’s no response, but Hongbin lets Sanghyuk drop his head to lean on his torso as he continues to rub the boy’s back. The blanket is thick, but Sanghyuk is still shivering.

“He was okay, until someone dropped the teaspoon on the table and it was loud – he just… kind of, fizzled out.” Hongbin can hear the frown in the officer’s voice. “Nothing worked.”

“It’s okay. He’s okay,” Hongbin says softly. “He’s okay.”

Hongbin feels as sturdy as ever, the lilt of his stomach as he breathes gives Sanghyuk more life in his lungs than his own body ever could. He closes his eyes.

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk sounds out again, “Hyung.”

“Mmm?”  

Sanghyuk pauses, then breathes out, “Hyung.”

Hongbin smiles and presses Sanghyuk closer.