[CONTENTID1] CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN - FORGIVENESS [/CONTENTID1]
[CONTENTID2]

warning, LONG CHAPTER AHEAD!

I push through the thick flaps serving as an outer barrier to the infirmary and step through the medical curtains. I look around for my target and find him lying atop a hospital bed, dressed to the role of a patient with IV drips hanging from his body. It smells like sickness and drugs in here but I endure it: I've endured worse smells.

I spot a male in a white coat in the distance and walk over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He looks up from the clipboard in his hands and smiles, his eyes creasing into tiny little slits. I've always admired eye-smiles. I wasn't fortunate enough to be born with one but Hyomi was - that's why despite how much she teased me, I always tried to make her laugh just so I could see the way her whole face lit up. 

"Hi, can I help you?" The male asks and my eyes flicker to his name tag: Dr Dong Youngbae. 

"I'm looking for my friends, Youngjae and Daehyun?"

He nods. "You must be Hyerim. Kyuhyun's been asking for you ever since he awoke." I can't help but smile broadly.

"He has?" I ask and the doctor nods. "Could you take me to them, please?"

"Of course. Where are my manners? I'm Dong Youngbae, a doctor here at this facility," he says, jutting out his arm. I proceed to shake his hand firmly. 

"Choi Hyerim. It's a pleasure, doctor," I smile and he quickly shakes his head.

"Please, call me Youngbae or, as most do, Taeyang." I nod but say no more. Just because I'm being polite doesn't mean I want to be friendly. He inclines his head and motions for me to follow him. "So, what do you think of the base?" 

Is that a serious question? "I haven't really taken a proper look around." I refrain from saying what I really think. This place is disgusting, it's a physical manifestation of everything that goes against basic human rights, compassion and decency. It's like a a special hell in the hell that already exists. I want to burn it to the ground but I know that is impossible. 

"Maybe I could show you," Youngbae - or Taeyang - suggests and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"I won't be hear much longer, there's really no point," I laugh, hoping it sounds less y than what it does to my own ears. We reach more curtains and he pulls them apart to reveal Youngjae, Daehyun and Kyuhyun. The three males are whispering to one another, Kyuhyun looking drowsy as he's fed chocolate pudding by Youngjae. "Oppa!" Their eyes snap up.

"Be gentle with--" I ignore Youngbae and rush to the bed, throwing my arms around Kyuhyun as I hug him tightly. I will myself not to cry, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around me but I only feel one hand on my back. I gasp and pull back, grabbing his left arm and holding it up. It takes a moment for it to sink in that his hand truly is gone. I saw it before but it still doesn't feel real.

"Oppa...your hand..." I gasp and his eyes flicker to it. His lips curve downwards and he pouts.

"I know. That was my hand," he whines and a giggle explodes from the depths of my stomach. I force myself to stop and smack his shoulder. "A-pa! What, you want my whole arm gone, too?"

"This isn't funny! Your hand...it's--it's gone!" I exclaim and he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I think everyone can see that, Hyerim," he replies and my jaw drops.

"How can you be so...so...so nonchalant about this!? Your hand is gone, Kyuhyun-ah, gone! Aren't you the least bit upset?" I demand anxiously and he smiles sweetly, reaching to stoke my cheek with his right hand. 

"Of course I am. You can ask those two and everyone else in this place how much I screamed and cried when I woke up," he murmurs, his smooth voice calming my nerves despite the heaviness of his words. "I thought I woke up in hell or something. It was possibly the most terrifying thing that's ever happened to me but, guess what? It's just another thing I have to adjust to. Just another thing we have to deal with. It and it's scary and it makes me want to myself but we have to deal with it. Don't we?"

I nod slowly. "We do." 

"So what's the point in freaking out anymore? What's done is done. I just hope I won't be totally useless from now on," he sighs and I shake my head quickly. "I'll tell you one thing though...I totally regret trying to get in that secretary's pants." I start laughing and Yougnjae and Daehyun join in, shaking their heads at our friend.

"Kyuhyun-ah, you've missed so much it's unreal," I gush and he snorts.

"These two have been trying to fill me in but I think my brain's fried," he replies and I pout, ruffling his wild hair. I run my fingers through the locks and he leans his head back in his pillow, his eyes closing. I start to pull away to let him rest when his left arm whips out, the stump hitting my wrist. He opens his eyes. "I...keep forgetting that the hand's not there anymore. It's weird, huh?" I see the fearful look in his eyes and feel my heart wretch. 

"I think it makes you look like a badass," I murmur and a grin breaks out on his face. I return his smile and continue to massage his scalp. I turn my face to look at the other guys. Youngbae is standing away from us, clearly observing our interactions. "Can you leave us?" He shakes his head as if snapping himself out of a deep thought. He smiles and bows before turning around and walking away. 

"Kyuhyun-ah," Daehyun whispers, making the other male peak at him through one eye. "How long do you think you need to fully recover?" Youngjae and I both stare at Kyuhyun. He frowns in concern.

"I'm not sure yet. Why? What's happening?" He asks and I glance at the other two males. "What's going on?"

"How much have you told him?" I ask them.

"We didn't get that far before Doctor Dong interrupted us," Daehyun answers. "Obviously he knows that it was Bora who took off his hand. We managed to tell him about the new additions to the team - even though they're more like deadweight--"

"--except Kyungsoo," Youngjae interjects.

"Except Kyungsoo," Daehyun affirms. "We told him about them and about Jungkook. That's pretty much it." We exchange knowing looks and he nods for me to say what we both know needs to be said. 

I turn to Kyuhyun, my hand still in his hair. "We're hoping for a speedy recovery." He quirks a brow. "This place is ed up, oppa. We thought the military headquarters in Beijing was bad? No. This is a hundred times worse." 

I went on to divulge what the team and I had learned from the second we landed on Algerian soil. I told him everything I knew except for the devastating details of Bora's past. I revealed Daeho's uous origin but I kept the darker family secrets to myself because Bora told me everything she did with trust that I'd keep it to myself. I was not about to betray that trust. 

But even recalling the less gory details was bad enough. It pained me to speak of Doojoon - the er didn't deserve to be spoken of. He deserved to die unloved and unknown. He deserved to leave this earth without so much as a memory of him left behind in anyone's mind.

By the end of the retelling of the events that had occurred ever since the team have arrived in Algeria, Kyuhyun was a roaring flame of anger and disgust. He was livid and with good reason. However, his anger spiked the levels in his body, causing his monitor to request the assistance of a doctor. Youngbae returned to the room and gave Kyuhyun more medicine to soothe his pains and prevent the infection of his stump. The medicine caused him to grow sleepier.

The entire infirmary is dark, save for the night lights dotting certain areas of the facility. Very little can be heard other than the beeping of ECGs, other medical machines and the whisperings of doctors and nurses. I'm sitting in the chair next to Kyuhyun's bed, my hand in his and my head on his lap. Youngjae is resting his head atop Daehyun's lap, the other male with his own head cupped by his hand which is balancing on the arm of the small sofa they're sharing. All three of them are sound asleep. 

I hear the pitter-patter of bare feet on linoleum flooring from afar. A shadow comes into view from behind the curtains hiding me and my boys from the other patients. I slowly raise my head from Kyuhyun's lap and narrow my eyes at the shadow. A hand slips through the curtain and pulls it back. I watch as a head pokes through and a pair of bright green eyes land on me.

"Karim." He steps further into our little area and walks over. We exchange bright smiles and I ruffle his curly hair. His white teeth seem to glow in the dark, the same can be said for his eyes. It takes me a moment to register just how absolutely beautiful he is. I've never seen anyone like him. "What are you doing in here?" 

"L-L-L-Looking f-for y-you," he answers, his voice hushed. "I o-overh-heard you t-t-t-talking a-about l-l-leaving the c-camp." I raise a brow at him and he blushes. "O-O-Okay, s-so I e-e-eavesd-dropped." I chuckle and tap his nose playfully. "C-c-can I c-come w-with you? I-I p-p-promise I'll d-d-do work a-and p-pull m-my own w-weight." 

"Oh, Karim. Of course you can come," I murmur, pulling him into my arms. We hug for a brief moment before I push him back and stare into his green eyes. "But you can't tell anyone. We're waiting till Kyuhyun can stand on his feet, he thinks he'll be ready within the next two days. Think you can stay out of trouble that long?" 

He nods. "Y-you b-b-betcha." I smile and kiss his forehead. I tilt my head as I study him. 

"Do you stutter in your native language as well?" I ask him. Since we've met, we've spoken in English. It seems it's the official language in the camp, considering Mohamed used it also. Even Doojoon and his goons did, too. 

Karim nods. "I-I-I've d-done it s-since I-I was l-little b-b-b-but it g-got worse w-when I c-came h-here." A pained expression crosses his face but disappears just as quickly as it appeared. "I-I'm o-o-kay, m-miss."

"Call me Hyerim," I order softly and he nods, smiling sweetly. "How old are you, anyways?"

"A-A-Almost e-eleven," he answers. I look at him and twirl a lock of his hair around my finger, tugging on it. It's absolutely beautiful but out there, where those things lurk around, having a head of hair like that could be dangerous. Girls, we can tie it up. We could bun it but for boys, it might prove to be more difficult.

"We might have to cut your hair a little. I love it but an Infected could easily grab onto it," I tell him and he nods. 

"I-I-I don't m-mind, m-mi--" I raise a brow at him. "I-I mean, H-Hyerim. I-I don't m-mind c-c-cutting m-my hair. It's n-not the w-worse thing I-I've h-had t-to d-d-do." My heart sinks a little and I his cheek with my thumb. "I-I h-have to g-go n-now." 

"Where do you sleep?" I ask.

"B-barracks. T-t-training t-tomorrow." He gulps as he says the last two words and I frown, my hands angrily. I can't imagine the things they make him do or at the very least, plan to make him do. He's too sweet and innocent to be put through a hell like this. I told myself years ago, after my failed pregnancy, that I would never yearn a child or another pregnancy. But sitting here with Karim in front of me and little Daeho still f