Hand me some poppies, take away the stench of blood.

At the end of a week, Jongdae was introduced to Lu Han’s retreat within the brick walled complex, a private anchor to life he found Lu Han trap within his palms with fierce protectiveness.

At the first ring of the grand clock that hung in the commons room,  a tiny wave of pinwheeling fists and curious calls that swelled around Lu Han’s wheelchair rushed in. Jongdae stepped aside as Lu Han busied himself, quieting the eager toddlers surrounding him with a light pat on the head and an exaggerated widening of amber eyes as words were whispered in his ear amidst giggles and squeals. Jongdae was graced an apologetic shake of the head before Lu Han was pulled back into the melee.

“Lu-ge, lu-ge, tell us a story! You weren’t here last week so you haven’t told us what happened to the gingerbread man!”

“Yeah! Omma and appa won’t tell me what happens next!”

“Was he eaten by the fox?”

“Yeah! Or did the old lady find him first?” The kids clamoured, chubby fingers reaching forward to tug at Lu Han, He held a fidgeting little boy before him firmly, eyes narrowed in mock sternness.

“Nope, the fox saw the gingerbread man sneaking around his den first so he was caught in the fox’s paws and the fox didn’t want to let go. Just like you are now.”

“No! What happened after that? Was he eaten?” Jongdae noticed with amusement the gradual widening of the boy’s eyes as he leant away, words whispered in innocent fear.

“The fox brought him closer and closer...”

“And?” The kids bent forwards, twelve pairs of eyes drifting closer to Lu Han.

“The gingerbread man was so scared, he squirmed and wriggled until...”

“Until? Tell us the ending already!”

“A goose turned up and tickled the fox just like this!” And the little boy erupted into a round of laughter, the tiny bodies around pressing in to join in the fun. Before long, Jongdae found himself stepping in to lift the kids piled around Lu Han, the shrill laughter slowly petering out. The wide smile lit across Lu Han’s features remained unbroken as he silently thanked Jongdae before addressing the kids once more, apologetic even as he regarded each and every one of them.

“That’s it for now alright? We’ll continue later. For now, you guys need to go get your medicine or else you won’t be getting any dessert at night alright?”

“Yessir!” A chorus of replies poured forth before the tiny gowned children dispersed with their guardians from the common area.

Yet even as the last few children reluctantly trailed from the area, Jongdae noticed Lu Han paling, lips breaking into a barely withheld grimace. It was as before, the thinly veiled cracks surfacing beneath the light. Kneeling, Jongdae took in the thin sheen of glistening drops forming across the pale countenance, the sight fumbling his words.

“Lu Han, Lu Han hyung what’s wrong?”

“Bring me back to my room. Rest. Awhile. Please?” The plea was more than just a simple request to return him, it was a plea to let things continue as per normal for just a while more. If Jongdae could have transcribed the glazed fissures into words it would have been, “Don’t call the heads yet, I’ll still be fine.” even as his breath slipped past him ragged.

Despite his better judgement, he found his grip tightening around the worn rubber handles as he wheeled the bent figure curled in the seat back down blind corridors to R-315. But as his arms found themselves around the thin frame in the chair, a violent shudder ran through Lu Han and a hacking cough had him reeling into Jongdae. Thin crimson streaks, the only colour against paper white, dribbled down, tinging a messy line of clear red. Flustered fingers pressed a button by the bed frame, the other arm holding the crumpling figure up.

It took three minutes for the first nurses to turn up, three minutes for Lu Han to be rolled into the emergency ward.

And for Jongdae, it took three simple minutes for him to realise how Lu Han’s breath was a gossamer feather waiting to be blown away by the slightest breeze.

----

“Jongdae oppa, oppa! Where’s Lu-ge? He hasn’t come down in a while and he didn’t finish the story!”

“Lu-ge went to see his friends to get more stories for you. Don’t worry you’ll see him soon. He even said he’d get giant beanstalks for you to meet the giant.”

“Really? I want to see him soon though. Jongdae Oppa, can you read to us for now? We want to know the end of Lu-ge’s story.”

“Of course I will.”

“Wait, wait oppa, it’s a happy ending right?”

“I’ll make sure it is.”

Yet Jongdae knew that a mass of bleak grey and fragile glass perched on a needle were all that he could capture in Lu Han’s tale, the question of a happily ever after trapped in a mirage over sand.

---

The next time Jongdae saw Lu Han was after 7 days had passed by filled with this and that and 7 nights had edged past, tethered on a strange limbo surrounded by an ever-present worry.

So it was with the slightest shake in his footsteps that he entered the room Lu Han had temporarily been shifted to, breath only levelling after he saw the familiar head of bleach blonde turned towards the clear glass windows.

“Hello, had lunch yet?” He winced at the poor starting but the boy’s hunched figure was too distracting, the way it seemed weighed down and pressed into a curl. Yet Lu Han made no notice of this, slowly turning towards him, lips lifting into a familiar upturn as his hands subtly slipped an object onto the ledge.

“Yep. I’m finally allowed proper food instead of that weird mush you give out sometimes.” Jongdae noticed the convenient avoidance of mentioning the week long absence, skipping over details of the regiment of surgeries and medicine that had been prescribed.

“What do you want to do today?” A thoughtful look crossed over Lu Han’s features, the clear pinballing of choices within his head akin to the kids that seemed so fond of him.

“Anything. Take your pick and I’ll follow. It’s not like I have a dozen options to choose from anyways.” The words were casually tossed, interpretations barely concealed beneath the surface. It had Jongdae protesting internally, to prove the dead spark in Lu Han wrong. It had to be wrong. But where to go, where?

“It wouldn’t matter where we go now right? So I’ll keep it a secret till we reach the place.” A nod and the rare chime of bells enveloped in the crinkling edges of Lu Han’s doe eyes followed, hitching Jongdae’s breath ever so slightly. With his teeth constantly worrying his bottom lip, Jongdae helped Lu Han into the wheelchair before wheeling him out soundlessly through silent corridors and past empty wards.

He hadn’t started off with a destination in mind, yet an unidentifiable tug and pull of feet had him taking Lu Han through pebbled paths and well tended hedges. It was only when he stopped, eyes catching familiar details that he recognized the location, a place that resembled something he had read when he was younger and still happily content with saving princesses from bears and picking up the poor in his head. What had it been...?

“The secret garden. You found a secret garden here.” The rose hue of the flowers seemed to have seeped into Lu Han’s skin, bright colours dancing against what used to be bone china. If Jongdae had a reason for the uncontrollable pull of his lips upwards, he couldn’t pinpoint it. But it was there, that slight weightlessness in his chest.

“I tend to run into good things. I’m pretty sure I literally ran into Baekhyun when we first met.” Again that ringing of bells but this time it was short lived, quickly descending into silence once more.

“Tell me nurse Jongdae, do you believe in love?” Lu Han’s eyes weren’t on him, they were fixed on nothing at all while his fingers twitched preoccupied in his pockets. The question had Jongdae’s brows furrowed, an awkward heat rising to his cheeks.

“You haven’t thought of it much have you? I guess that makes sense. You don’t really need to rush it.” Lu Han looked up at him with that same polite smile, as though he were somehow at fault for questioning, speaking even. The unspoken apology expecting rejection had words spilling from his mind, unfiltered because Jongdae had come to realise that was the way Lu Han functioned. Just like the bone china that let light seep through when alit from within.

“No, it’s just I believe in love I guess but in the simple things. I’m not expecting a fairy tale, that’s all.”

“Yes I guess you’re right. But do you know why writers came up with happily ever afters at all?”

“So you’d feel better after you finish it?”

“Not really. Because they’re so rare. Because you only hope for a happily ever after when you know you probably won’t find one. But you know what, they’re there. I know they’re there.”

“When I get out, I want to collect back all the moments that have slipped past others. Get my own hourglass ticking again. If love is real, someone else’s hourglass should have stopped too.”

Yet Jongdae noticed the slight wavering in Lu Han’s voice, the forced reigning in of words to remain standing. It was mere seconds, a simple brush of a hand against a mirage wavering beneath water to dispel the uncertainty. And the smear on painted porcelain was gone, leaving Jongdae to look at a politely smiling countenance once more.

“Jeez I think the age is getting to me. Shall we go back in? The nurses might get worried if they don’t find you inside for too long. Might get worried that the all important Nurse Jongdae can’t be found to get pushed around by the sunbaes.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what they do. The kids were looking for you the entire week as well. Their Pied Piper was missing for the week.” Jongdae swallowed uncomfortably, the quick veil draped over the slow stain of ink on paper. There were questions he wanted answered, missing pieces to the doe eyed puzzle in his head. They would have to come later, all in their own time.

For now, it was another dropped shard in his hands, one more step to completion.

The journey back to R-315 was short, silent. Just as he had helped Lu Han back into the bed, a firm call had beckoned him out, sheets of black and white awaiting him.

“Jongdae-ah, you’re the main nurse attending to Lu Han now aren’t you?” The smooth features of the senior nurse had crinkled slightly, tracing worry as they looked over Jongdae briefly. Jongdae found himself nodding once, wary as the nurse’s eyes had flicked once towards the door before continuing.

“The test results following his surgery were just received. They don’t look very promising, I’m sorry. Be more careful with him alright?” The senior’s eyes had awaited his affirmation before departing with a resigned sigh.

Jongdae only looked once at the brief details in his hands, the simple numbers hiding little before its viewer. He folded the paper once, fingers pressed against the edges before stepping into the ward once more. At his entry, Lu Han looked up from a metallic oblong in his palm, the light emitted dimming as his eyes focused on Jongdae.

“What is it this time? Another errand for Nurse Jongdae to run?” Jongdae forced his lips upwards to match the hopeful tilt of Lu Han’s features. The papers he stuffed into his pocket swiftly, inerasable black ink hidden beneath cloth in a second.

“You’re right. This department couldn’t run without me. They need me for some other jobs again.”

“Have fun then. Hey Jongdae?”

“Hm?” He noticed the screen in Lu Han’s palm relighting to reveal an image of two boys, Lu Han and someone else with spectacles and two marked dimples, arms slung across each other on the screen. This was different though, an unmistakable glow to the smile on Lu Han’s features. The cracks had yet to form, the colours against ceramic still bright.

The screen snapped to black, in sync with Lu Han continuing.

“Jongdae, once I’m discharged, if I manage to find love still waiting for me, it means happy endings can still happen right?” The phone was slipped away now, tucked into a compartment at the side of the bed.

“Of course. I’ll make sure I publish it or something. Ditch medicine to write your happy ending. But I’m needed for now so see you tomorrow?” Jongdae felt an unnatural stutter in his heartbeat, a pressing ache where thin papers remained folded. Lu Han had yet to turn away though, the lingering hesitation in the curve of his lips dispelled.

“It’s not like I’ll be anywhere else. Tomorrow then.”

---

The days after slipped back into their routine, afternoons surrounded by the kids after school and mornings spent occasionally by the park if the winter breeze permitted it. Jongdae found himself laughing along watching Lu Han imitate the hairy hulk that was the Big Bad Wolf or the sweet, chirpy countenance of Goldilocks to an adoring audience of several pairs of large, innocent pools of curiosity on their lunch breaks. For those three hours, he wasn’t the boy with a time bomb in his heart, he was the boy who had travelled the world and back, there to share his frivolous adventures to others, spinning tales of beautiful make-believe to drown in.

And each time, Jongdae was left with sharp piercing stabs against his chest from the papers folded in his pockets, each printed number a mallet shattering the flimsy mirage.

------

Spring rolled in unannounced amidst coloured dots in the bushes and the unfurling of weak leaves beneath pale sunlight. For most, the shift in soft tones from uniform brown and white to pale pink and green was the universal signal to take hesitant steps out, shedding the extra coats and layers that had been piled on before.

For Jongdae, the tilt of seasons and the sky’s clock went unnoticed. Early mornings meant reporting early at the hospital, marking the start of hours spent at a ward down corridor R housing a lone occupant. Time dripped away, draining through IVF bags and spilt over words exchanged. The sight of yellow paper shuffled away and blank gazes fixed on a phone screen had become more frequent as each second that seeped into Lu Han’s veins dissipated instantly, adding little to the grains leaking from his heart. Jongdae could do little but to watch, to watch and wait as time rushed past on gurgling brooks and soft drifting gales outside.

Yet the staccato beat of rigid schedules continued. Afternoons still meant time spent at the common area, tiny palms brought together in delighted clapping as story after story was read out in the rise and fall of Lu Han’s soft voice. But the pairs of doe-eyes wandered, leaving, straying one by one. They would leave, eventually. As a final squeak of thank you was uttered before rushing to meet an expectant parent, Jongdae noticed the way Lu Han’s eyes dulled, now clear see through marbles.

“It’s spring. They’re finally going back to school. They deserve the time outside.” Unspoken was the quiet call to follow them but Jongdae could see it written in wispy morning mist above the head of bleached blond.

“They won’t be coming back if things go right. Strange isn’t it? For once you hope not to see someone again.” Jongdae took note of the flickering imprint of a bespectacled boy fading across clear fissured glass, a silent acceptance of loss, The detail seemed important, the fizzling embers growing cold the more Lu Han’s amber eyes reflected that image, the more time ran past unacknowledged.

“The kids will miss their Pied Piper. They’ll probably pester their parents just to come visit you. They aren’t gone forever Lu Han.” Jongdae had shifted to kneel before Lu Han, arms awkwardly crossed across his legs. There was a pause that followed, leaving his eyes to trail towards the empty spots that had been filled with winged laughter floating towards the skylights.

Lu Han had cracked a small smile then, a fissure in brittle ice beneath the steady sunlight streaming in through the window.

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll still be here when they return does it?”

-----

Today, they were at the commons area once more, silent and still in the absence of carefree laughter and innocent squeals of delight. Lu Han was seated, silent, contemplative as his fingers nervously tapped the armrests of his wheelchair.

8 months and Jongdae took note of how his eyes still darted about the tiles, restless yet they lacked depth, dull sandstone in place of liquid amber.

“Jongdae I need a favor from you.”

Lu Han hesitated, fingers tracing anxious circles across a thin stiff-backed card drawn out from his hospital gown. Neat printed characters ran down its front, each reflecting careful precision. Jongdae wasn't a stranger to the card. It was a distinct image that he would often leave Lu Han with, staring at it with a curious mix of hope and crushed dreams silently crashing and melding within pale, lifeless brown.

The request was stuttered, a thread picked out and laid bare for scrutiny. A favour he admitted. To place into the hands of a lost love long gone was the admitted task, albeit with a sudden smattering of bright cherry blossom pink dusting pale skin and hidden within stuttered words of quiet embarrassment.

“I know it’s a strange request. You don’t have to do it if you don’t agree.” Again, nervous laughter broke and quietened as Lu Han’s eyes trailed towards the skylights.

“No, no I’ll pass it to him.”

Jongdae found himself nodding, gaze slipping as he studied the careful text, noting how carelessly Lu Han’s heart had been strung onto plain yellow paper amidst shy of black. It was an irony really, how he wore his heart upon hospital gowns, as frail and stuttering as it was. The band across his lungs tightened, a strap pulled by a loop of facts and diagnosis in black characters and white spaces.

“Thank you.”

And he decided that the delivery would be made if only to see the way innocent doe eyes crinkled in a smile, faint crow lines lining the edges in creases in place of cracks.

An hour and a half later, Jongdae left with Lu Han's heart sealed carefully with wax in an envelope and tucked into his pocket.

---

Jongdae took hurried steps to a white washed building, recollections of plastic tables and chairs and a barred rooftop glimpsed amidst passing memories of the complex. The public school was silent, the crowd of children and eager parents having dispersed before the gathering of water-logged clouds, heralding the onslaught of harsh winds characteristic of that time of autumn caught amidst blustering red leaves and barely nascent winter.

There was someone approaching the area though, quick strides crossed to meet Jongdae. The spectacles had been lost since the time of the photo, yet Jongdae recognised the flash of deep dimples revealed in the midst of an apologetic bow.

“I’m sorry I called you here like this. I couldn’t think of an easier location.”

Another confused smile, a hand brushing off the apology.

“No it’s alright. But I’m sorry have I met you before this? I was only told you knew an old school friend.”

Pulling the green sleeves of his sweater down further, Jongdae wondered if this was the best way. It seemed like a stick had been dipped to disturb the still pool of memories left aside as part of a childhood long past.

“That’s right. Lu Han sent me actually.”

Mute silence and a flicker of recognition as the name was mentioned.

“He asked me to pass this to you.”

The pause was lengthened, eyes averted in the absence of an adequate reply.

Jongdae gently placed the envelope within the palm of the stranger’s hesitantly outstretched hands, knowing already that he was lost. The upturn of his lips remained fixed politely, even as the stranger was mutely rushed away by another who had tugged the sparks in his eyes and claimed them as her own, even as the unassuming envelope had been returned with bashful rejection, even as he had been forced to bend his spine, the small ‘thank-you’ that was uttered tugged away by the wayward breeze into the bare branches above.

----

Beneath lamplight and neat stacks of paperwork, Jongdae found himself unfolding yellow paper pressed into neat folds and lines. Jongdae read with silent dismay the carefree words of eager acceptance that pieced itself together in Lu Han’s words, built out of brittle bones and wheezing breath. It was his naive resolve to cross bands of light across the sky, to find gold led by hearsay. Brushing away the brown waves that had fallen forward into his eyes, Jongdae found his teeth sinking into the raw flesh of his lips, layers torn and salty with a mix of stray beads of blood seeped through, with the sudden resolve to bubble wrap Lu Han’s child-like innocence, to avoid shattering the porcelain heart within.

He would make this a happy ending.

So it was that he found himself printing out words of comfort, spinning the necessary lies beneath soft yellow lamplight that remained cheerful company against whiplash winds that had started somewhere in the midst of a pale crescent’s ascent, continuing to pelt the window from outside. He found the pen poised above the paper time and time again, words chosen carefully with Lu Han’s doe-eyed smile a constant reminder by his side. It had to be done. It had to.

The hours rolled in and letters and characters filled the ruled paper, pen clicks an acapella rhythm along with the raindrops.

With time and the slow dwindling of thinly veiled words of concern, he shook his head of the groggy remnants of sleep, disjointed images of a broken dream. Jongdae shuffled over to the basin, smiling ruefully at the lines beneath his eyes, just slightly darker from the aftermath of thoughts that refused to be reined in till 4 in the morning.

The hospital it would be then, just a matter of checking in four hours early. It could easily be overlooked.

He pulled on the signature stiff white uniform that was required, the upturned collars chaffing his neck and jaw uncomfortably. The note, the product of a sleepless night and the tremor in his veins, was slipped into a pocket before the front door of the house was locked shut, feet heading for the familiar brick-walled complex.

He was greeted by a flurry of movement passing in and out of R-315, frantic blue against beige. Jongdae found his stride lengthening, pace quickening pulled by puppet strings of dread unaccounted for.

What now?

He brushed past a fellow nurse, one that he knew had been assigned to Lu Han in the morning, barely acknowledging her as he walked in to be greeted by the metallic stench of blood hanging in the air, pressing down on him with a suffocating hold that made it hard to take in the next breath. In a single glance, he took in the sight of blood splattered sheets that were being picked up by a fellow nurse and the curled position of Lu Han, held gently by two other nurses, retching bile and bits of red that dotted his mouth with specs of sickly green and bright crimson, a macabre imitation of paint on pale ceramic.

It was surreal, a distended reality trapped beyond a snapshot of time, almost as though he had been retained as time proceeded with its steady footfalls across him.

A few more frenzied doctors rushed in.

Readings were checked and results jotted down.

A few more blue coated individuals rushed out once more.

“Jongdae, prepare Room S12. We’ll be needing it shortly.”

Limbs were shaken into motion, eyes shuttering to clear the slight blurring of the vision ahead. Limbs and lips moved of their own accord, driven by clockwork instructions and mindless movements.

The room was prepped, more errands were taken note of, identical corridors and pathways passed with little recognition.

Sometime in the afternoon, someway in between his runs to and from the supply rooms and familiar corridors, he had been stopped by a kindly lady in white, another doctor if he were still to remember. He remembered glancing at test results, recognising sickening percentages and results that he tried hard to look past, to look beyond simple, uncomplicated numbers written in black and white.

“He’s dying Jongdae. His organs are failing him so I think you know what this means.”

---

It was another week before he returned to looking after the boy with the eggshell complexion and gullible, wide-eyed smiles

“We meet again. Did you survive without me? Must have been hard without someone toeing the line between life and death regularly to look after.”

“Very funny. You actually scared me you know.”

“Well don’t be. I’ll pull through it. I’m like Humpty Dumpty you know that? I can be taped back whole in no time.”

“Of course you can. Remind me to keep a store of extra tape. By the way, he passed me a reply. Your letter. You should have it.” The neatly folded envelope was drawn out from the pocket, heartstrings and threads tying it down ripped as it was pulled free onto his palm.

And even now, the snapshot of Lu Han looking on with childlike eagerness, eyes swirls of liquid hazelnut as they had widened in barely withheld relief, was pegged to his memory.

“Jongdae? Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’ll be leaving now. See you tomorrow hyung.”

He turned, the sudden flare of life and vigour in hazel eyes, a pyre of stardust and blazing asteroids threatening to constrict his throat further. He considered the possibility of it closing off for good, of his heart losing their rhythm, falling behind time, as they had in Lu Han. It broke the forced upturn of his lips, the smile dismantled where Lu Han couldn’t see it.

And he knew he was trying hard but failing to ignore the faint underlying scent of spilt blood that had settled beneath the surface of the air, lingering in the soft bed sheets and bare walls.

Because, Humpty Dumpty had never been pieced back together. He had remained as crushed eggshells, irreparable, inerasable against concrete time.