Warnings: slight violence, dark themes

“Jackson!” Jaebum runs, catching glimpses of pink tutu from a distance. He pushes past a woman with a stroller, and she hisses at him.

“Jackson, stop!” The pink tutu is within arm’s reach. Jaebum grabs at it.

Jackson suddenly turns. “Skirt flipper!”

“What,” Jaebum sighs, noting the red tint of Jackson’s features. “Calm down.”

“Shut up,” Jackson replies. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And what would you have done?” Jaebum says, not unreasonably. “What can you do?” He tries to take Jackson’s right hand in his. Jackson slaps him away.

“This isn’t about that.” Jackson’s eyebrows furrow and he looks so stubbornly angry that Jaebum is reminded of a small bull.

“You’re not stupid,” Jaebum replies. “Stop saying stupid things.”

“What?”

“Why would I tell you? You’re a specimen,” Jaebum says. “We don’t keep you locked up, and that’s already a lot. Why would I give you opportunities to sabotage our mission, if you knew?” Jaebum stills, realizing his mistake. “I mean, not that you have the capability to sabotage anyway, now that you know.”

“Aren’t we friends?” Jackson shouts. “Aren’t we close now? Don’t we sleep together?”

Somebody whistles at them, and a woman’s voice yells “get a room!”

“Keep your voice down!” Jaebum yells back.

“I don’t get you.” Jackson glares at Jaebum as if he’s one of Youngjae’s culinary concoctions--dislikable and confusing. “You pretend you care and that you like me, and then you turn around and all over me because I’m a ‘specimen.’ Why don’t you just make up your mind?”

“What do you mean I like you,” Jaebum breathes, heart speeding up. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Aren’t we friends?” Jackson asks. The clueless and angry expression on his face is simultaneously a relief and a disappointment. Jaebum sighs.

“Look, Jackson,” he begins. His communicator starts ringing. Jaebum whips it out and puts it to his ear.

“Orders from above,” Jinyoung says. “852 is to be confined indefinitely in the ship, no matter the consequences to its health. 852 is not allowed to be referred to as an equal or by its Earthling name. 852 is to be indefinitely considered a specimen and a tertiary-class citizen, even after Earth is conquered, until such time that it is assimilated through official means: JYP marriage, military service, or organ donation.”

“You’re kidding me,” Jaebum breathes. “What the happened?”

“ if I know,” Jinyoung replies, voice uncharacteristically heated. “I’m back at the ship, seeing as I have no interest in this planet’s scientific properties. Official communication just came in. Did he… did it do something?”

“What’s going on,” Jackson says. “Don’t keep things from me, Jaebum!”

“It defied the President,” Jaebum groans. “Oh, . He knows everything. He knows how we’ve been handling… it.”

“Consequences of disobeying orders is to be stripped of rank.” Jinyoung sounds a little bit helpless, which alarms Jaebum more than anything else. “You’ve got to get 852 back to the ship. Now.”

In a split second, Jaebum’s military training and years of JYP indoctrination kick in. He swiftly compartmentalizes everything about Jackson that he knows, and locks sentiment away in the corner of his mind reserved for everything classified as useless.

Jaebum shuts the communicator and calmly pockets it. 852 watches him with new wariness, as if it knows what Jaebum has just done.

“Let’s go back to the ship,” Jaebum says. “It’s getting late.”

852 stares at him, hints of stubborn anger still clinging to its features. “No.”

In a burst of JYP speed, Jaebum holds a laser gun to its temple. “You don’t have a choice.”
 

“Are you going to shoot me?” 852 sneers. “Go ahead. Blow a hole through my skull. You .”

“This isn’t the time for jokes,” Jaebum murmurs, some part of him shifting--anticipating action and the fulfillment of a mission. “If not your skull, then an arm. Jinyoung has no need for both of them.”

“You’re serious,” 852 whispers. Its eyes widen in disbelief. In another time, Jaebum would have rushed to wipe that expression off of its face. As it stands, any feelings of affection Jaebum had are buried deep beneath layers of military discipline. He presses the head of the gun painfully into its scalp, and it winces.

“Follow me,” Jaebum commands. Everyone around them has dispersed, either watching warily from storefronts or running past them.

“JYP savage!” Somebody yells. “Get out of our planet! Don’t threaten our girls, you colonial heads!” The women surrounding them begin to whisper their assent.

“I’m calling the police,” Jaebum hears, from somewhere behind him.

Jaebum grabs 852 on the arm and drags it in front of him, uncaring of the amount of brute force he’s using. 852 involuntarily whimpers. He shoves it forward, gun still trained to its head, forcing it to move. Jaebum’s boots begin to slam the pavement at a quick pace, and 852 resorts to running to keep up.

“When we return, do not attempt to struggle,” Jaebum instructs. “I will incapacitate you.”

“ you,” 852 pants. “ you you you.”

“Upon return to the ship, you are to be strip-searched and all personal effects will be confiscated,” Jaebum recites. “As a tertiary citizen as well as a specimen, you do register as sentient by JYP standards. However, you are not considered a full person, nor are you allowed to vote, receive an education, own property, or occupy public space until such time that you become a secondary or full citizen, either through marriage, organ donation, or military service.”

“ youuuuu,” 852 sings out of nowhere. Its voice hitches every few breaths. “ youuuu Jaebum, you very much.”

“Tertiary citizens classified as specimens are not allowed personal effects or free range in the laboratory,” Jaebum continues. “Tertiary citizens classified as specimens rank below alien specimens. Tertiary citizens classified as specimens are subject to all possible experimentation--no humane regulations apply.”

“Barbarbarbarbarbarbarbar,” 852 sings to itself, apparently attempting to ignore Jaebum. “Naltarra tu, papapapapapapapa!” Jaebum stares at it dispassionately as he power walks it to the ship, its raspy singing seemingly never-ending. He notices it starting to slow down.

Jaebum throws it over his shoulder, ignoring its hoarse shout. He allows himself to truly run, and buildings and people blur together as he increases his speed.

“Holy ,” 852 whispers. “I’m going to throw up on you.”

Within seconds, Jaebum registers himself at the star-ship’s door and enters it. Jinyoung is waiting for him, stripped of his female attire and clad in his lab gear.

“What’s the plan,” Jinyoung says.

“Follow the regulations on the specimen,” Jaebum commands. “Lock it in the dark room, strap it in to prevent movement. I trust you’ve told the others to come back, the moment they do, we set off to meet 2PM.”

“You’re not kidding,” Jaebum says, gazing at him with disappointment. “Really?”

“Explain.”

“Jackson’s a friend,” Jinyoung responds. “We don’t have to do that to him, there are no cameras in the ship.”

“Follow the regulations on the specimen,” Jaebum repeats. He hauls 852 off his shoulder and hands it over to Jinyoung, 852 limp from exertion and motion-sickness. Jinyoung stares at him with a disturbing amount of interest.

“This must be a military thing,” Jinyoung muses. “I’ve heard of it. You’ll regret this later, and it will be so funny.”

“Jinyoung,” 852 moans. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hush,” Jinyoung replies, smiling vaguely. “This will all turn out to be amusing.”

--

Jackson considers himself a lucky person.

He loves his parents and his brother, lived in a decent house, and had the opportunity to attend university. He knows that he’s more than decent-looking, and his popularity among classmates is no joke. He’s dated and loved, has more friends than he can count, and enjoys nearly everything he does on a daily basis--alien abduction notwithstanding.

Lately, however, he’s begun to think that he might actually be cursed.

“Don’t scream,” Jinyoung says, his face indiscernible in the darkness. The sounds of some kind of alien velcro and the clinking of buckles resound in the room, but Jackson can’t see a thing. Jinyoung works fast, and Jackson feels the criss-crossed tightening of straps across his body, seemingly all at the same time.

“Don’t leave me here,” he begs. Though his eyes are open, he can only see black. Jinyoung pats him on the shoulder.

“Be a big boy,” he says. “Are you afraid of the dark?”

“Yes,” Jackson immediately replies.

“Since you escaped last time you were here, I’ve had to waste a lot of time modifying the strap-in equipment,” Jinyoung says cheerily, shifting Jackson’s body this way and that. “You really are a handful. If Jaebum doesn’t marry you before the invasion, the only way you’ll be able to live a normal life is if you donate an organ. Isn’t that something?”

“Shut up,” Jackson pleads. “Just say something nice. Please.”

“What do you think of leader?” Jinyoung asks.

“Why are you invading Earth?” Jackson asks back. “Why can’t you just let me go home?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Jinyoung shakes Jackson’s shoulder, like Jackson’s the one with all the answers. “Earth is so small and ugly. Anyway, once the invasion’s over, you still can’t return home.”

“You can’t do it,” Jackson says. “Just… talk to the president, or somebody. It’s not worth it.”

“We’re already going to invade some planet, and we’ve invested too much on Earth,” Jinyoung responds. “JYP’s economy is fueled by expansion. Our military body and supporting star-ship enterprise is our main source of job creation.”

“Why can’t you grow corn or something?”

“Do you think Jaebum is handsome?” Jinyoung asks, out of the blue. Jackson frowns.

“Why do you care?”

“I think Jaebum thinks you’re handsome,” Jinyoung says, and Jackson can practically see him cocking his head and smiling. “Are you attracted to him?”

Jackson wiggles in frustration and helpless rage. “That’s not even important! You’re planning on destroying everything I know and love, probably in less than a month! How can I even think about that right now?”

Jinyoung is quiet for a while, and then he rests his hand on Jackson’s strapped chest. “This is actually pretty important.” His voice stays as even as ever, but there’s a note of seriousness in it. “What do you think is going to happen to you, after the invasion is over?”

“Probably years of labor for your ty planet,” Jackson sneers. “As you practice your ‘cultural enlightenment’ on us.”

“If you weren’t a tertiary citizen, you’d be able to live as you did before,” Jinyoung continues, unfazed. “Like the citizens on the Planet of Women. You could go on as you did, except you’d receive JYP tourists and citizens, send some tribute, submit to new governmental designations and orders, that kind of thing. But you could see your family and do the same job you did before.”

“Shut up,” Jackson scoffs.

“It’s true,” Jinyoung says. “But not since you pissed off the president. As a tertiary citizen and specimen, immediately after invasion ends, you would spend the rest of your life as a lab experiment.”

Jackson’s fists curl in resentment. “Basically, like I am now?”

“Not at all,” Jinyoung says. “You would probably lose half your functionality within the first few weeks of experimentation. You might die within a year.” He gives Jackson a prim pat on the shoulder. “I would suggest you start thinking about alternatives.”

A pit of empty resignation opens up within Jackson, and he finds himself at a loss for words. Jinyoung shifts around in the dark.

“I should get going now,” Jinyoung says. “When Jaebum returns to normal, you can probably come out.”

“Are we friends?” Jackson asks, voice soft. “Are you really going to let me die?”

“You really never listen,” Jinyoung responds. “I can’t be bothered to explain if nobody listens.” With that, he steps away. The sounds of his shoes clicking fade, and then everything is quiet, the plasma door barely making noise upon Jinyoung’s exit

Jackson screams.