Without Breath for nautisch
Title: Without Breath
Recipient: nautisch
Pairing: Junhyung/Doojoon
Word count: ~7400
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Some vague descriptions of death?
Summary: Junhyung's stomach clenches tight and the feeling rises to his chest, gripping onto all of his organs and it's the most disgusting timing but even as Yoseob battles for air Junhyung can feel the bile rising in his own throat, feel his lungs closing in themselves and his airways compacting until suddenly he's wheezing just as much as Yoseob.
Notes: Heavily based on the Soom MV. I didn't achieve everything I wanted to with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! <3
Fear is excitement without breath - Robert Heller
*
Junhyung remembers things from before, sometimes, tiny snapshots of what life was like-how his mother sounded when she was angry, his father's cigarette-stained fingers, what a bath felt like, the flashing lights and hazy air and thumping bass of a club, the way his third girlfriend's school skirt would flip up at the slightest breeze-and he doesn't know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
He was at a difficult age when it happened, too young to remember, but too old to forget. There are snippets, flashes that constantly plague his mind, particularly vivid when he's having a panic attack, when he's struggling to pull in a breath, for his throat to open up enough for air to slip through. He's not even sure how many of them are real and how many of them he's made up, gleaned from movies and video games of his youth, from stories others have told him, from dreams and faded, ragged photos, but whatever the case, he tries not to let himself reflect on them for long.
Things aren't like that anymore, and no-one has any choice but to move on.
*
When Yoseob's fever spikes, they have no choice but to split up.
Although they usually try to avoid dividing themselves up so completely, this time they can't help it-it's not just medicine they need, but food and water, too. Sometimes rations are still dropped, from unknown sources, but they are irregular and claimed quickly, often appearing on the black market in return for ridiculous demands. A lot of the time their scouting trips are fruitless, and end in them having to raid their own supplies of dried and tinned foods, but their stockpile is dwindling fast and it isn't going to last them much longer.
It's dangerous and there are gangs more violent than theirs who would kill for a speck of food and Junhyung's even heard stories of cannibals, of people who've turned to other people for sustenance, but everyone in their group is well-practiced at this. They've been out hunting and scouting so many times that it's second nature, in any combination of members.
This time three groups of two is the only option. Still, when Junhyung realises that Doojoon intends to leave Yoseob at their home base alone with Kikwang, he can't help but call him on it.
"Yah," he says, pulling him aside as he zips up his pack, "why aren't you the one staying with Seobie? You're the medic."
"Which also makes me the only one with the connections and the know-how to get what he really needs. Trust me, Junhyung, I've thought this through." He glances at Dongwoon and Hyunseung on other side of the shabby, worn living room, preparing for their own journey, then straightens and puts a heavy hand on Junhyung's bicep, stepping closer. "Yoseob is only in the beginning of stage two. Kikwang is the best fighter and he'll be able to protect-"
Junhyung shakes him off. "What if something happens? You say Seobie has time, but what if he doesn't? What if he gets worse?"
Doojoon's expression darkens. "If Yoseob's condition deteriorates," he says quietly, "there'll be nothing any of us can do without the right medicine, anyway."
The terrifying truth of that hits Junhyung like a bullet and he suddenly finds his throat going horribly dry.
"I don't like it either," Doojoon says softly, obviously sensing him relenting. He slides his hand up Junhyung's arm and to his neck, rubbing gently at the curve of it, and Junhyung tries to pretend he doesn't find it as comforting as he does. "But we have no choice."
Junhyung sighs. "Where are we going? When?"
"We'll leave in the morning. There's an old hospital about a day away from here," he says, and Junhyung immediately finds himself tensing up. Hospital. Hospital. Doojoon must notice, because his grip tightens and he frowns. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." He looks over Doojoon's shoulder to see Dongwoon watching them with a horrifically sappy expression and immediately pulls back, Doojoon's fingertips sliding uselessly down his chest. "I'm going to get ready," he says gruffly, backing out.
He pauses in the hallway at the door to Yoseob's room, watching through the half-open door. He hates how tiny Yoseob looks in the bed. It's only an old hospital cot, swiped from one of the last hospitals Doojoon volunteered at before even they turned to shit, but it still manages to completely swallow him, dwarfing him and making him seem frighteningly like a small, sickly child.
Junhyung guesses that it's a good sign that he's still able to laugh and joke with Kikwang, but the problem with Yoseob is that he acts like he's fine for a long time, lets things build up and up and up until they explode. He worries about burdening the group, and even when he got the sickness he didn't tell anyone, not until he collapsed two days ago and Doojoon had realized he had entered into the second stage.
The same thing happened when he hurt his neck. For days he's simply laughed it off as a crick from sleeping badly, but it lingered long enough for Junhyung to worry and insist on Doojoon checking him out properly. Only then did they realize that Yoseob was severely understating things, and actually had problems with his spinal cord.
Yoseob wears a neck brace now. That and his dark hair are the only things that set him apart at all from the sterile white of the room, and Junhyung is almost thankful for them.
Yoseob looks over, then, noticing him at the door, and grins. Junhyung takes heart from the fact that that, at least, hasn't changed.
"Hey," he says, pushing inside. "How are you feeling?"
Yoseob huffs and crosses his arms, obviously trying to look mad but only succeeding in looking cute.
"What'd I say?" Junhyung asks, turning to Kikwang.
Kikwang grins, eyes smiling along with him. "He wants people to stop treating him like a child. He says-"
"Yah, I can speak for myself. Go and do something useful for once," Yoseob scolds him, pouting, and Kikwang grins wider, taking the opportunity to clean up a little. His tattoos curl up his arms in strange patterns, flexing with his muscles as he goes about collecting Yoseob's various dirty utensils. Junhyung often finds himself tracing them up his arms with his eyes, trying to discern some meaning from them. He doesn't know where they came from, just that Kikwang went through some difficult times alone before they formed their group.
It's just another thing, along with Hyunseung's hideous accessories and Dongwoon's terrifying aptitude for maths problems, that Junhyung doesn't pry into. Junhyung sometimes wishes Doojoon would show the same restraint when it comes to the past, but then, if he only showed indifference, he probably wouldn't be fit to be their leader.
"Call if you need anything," Kikwang says, and Yoseob waves him away, waiting until he's gone before reaching out and dragging Junhyung closer, linking their hands and forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Yah!" Junhyung complains, but it's only half-hearted. He can never really yell at Yoseob, not even when he deserves it. He tried, for a while, too stay aloof, to keep himself separate, but with someone like Yoseob around that's impossible. Yoseob crawls under his skin and makes a home for himself and Junhyung tells him things and he doesn't even know why. There's no need to try and maintain any type of barrier with Yoseob, and even if he tried, Yoseob would break through it anyway.
"Are you going to be okay?" Yoseob asks, playing with his fingers. "You're going to a hospital…"
Junhyung shifts uncomfortably at the reminder. It had probably been naïve of him not to connect needing medicine and having to visit a medical facility of some kind, but he honestly hadn't thought that far.
Of course Yoseob has.
"Of course I am. Who do you think I am, Doojoon?" he finally answers. "I'm not going to cry over every little thing."
"Okay, okay," Yoseob says, laughing. His thumb strokes over Junhyung's palm and Junhyung squeezes his fingers before letting go and standing up.
"I'm leaving first. I need to go and nag the others."
"Okay." Yoseob's face falls and Junhyung feels himself melt a little.
Again.
"I'll see you later. Or I'll kill you," he says meaningfully, and Yoseob smiles again, nodding.
"Hey," Yoseob says, just before he leaves, "remember to take your mask."
"Stop it," Junhyung says. "You're turning into me."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he says playfully.
Junhyung just raises an eyebrow.
*
No-one remembers the last time it rained. There are those who remember the sensation of it, what it sounded like, tasted like, but not one person can recall the last time they felt it on their skin. The date it all started is hazy, too, because it happened so gradually-year by year, it simply rained less and less, until it didn't rain at all.
It changed everything. Limited rain had already caused problems but the complete absence of a renewing fresh water source set society back countless years. There was a rationing system instated, but by the time it came into effect even the aid from other countries and a network of desalination plants couldn't stop diseases forming and spreading, epidemics overloading now-inadequate hospitals. And then everything stopped: no more aid, no more government contact. The people were forced to fend for themselves and most of them failed.
Junhyung's parents were no exception. They suffered, just like millions of others, and they died, just like millions of others. Junhyung was orphaned, just like millions of others, left with nothing except memories, nightmares and the inability to breathe.
And then Junhyung met Doojoon in the hospital when he had another attack. Kikwang and Yoseob were already Junhyung's friends and Doojoon kind of already knew Dongwoon and then Hyunseung came along and none of them had anyone else, so it was kind of natural that they all fell together.
They're his family now. They help him forget.
Most of the time.
*
Junhyung wakes up gasping, thrashing and scrabbling and completely unable to breathe, the images of his parents bloodied and defeated and dying playing on repeat with disturbing clarity in his brain. He's trying to calm himself down but the lack of air only makes him even more panicked and his oesophagus is closing rapidly, too rapidly to even try to take one more breath. His oxygen mask in his bag and his bag is on Doojoon's side because he forgot to move it before they went to sleep and he has no idea how he made such a stupid mistake but now he's definitely paying for it.
In his hysteria he tries to reach over Doojoon and grab it but he can't control his limbs properly and ends up falling over Doojoon, elbowing him in the stomach, empty fingers of his other hand trailing over his neck. Doojoon wakes with a start, hands automatically coming up to shield himself from an oncoming attack. When he realizes what's happening he bursts into action immediately, pushing Junhyung up into a sitting position and wrenching the mask out his pack, uncoiling the tangled cord and pressing it to Junhyung's face, and after a few seconds Junhyung can feel the pressurized air against his skin. He opens his mouth wide and breathes in slowly, suppressing the urge to drag it in as quickly as possible.
"It's okay," Doojoon soothes, helping Junhyung hold the mask up. "Come on, it's okay, just breathe."
He keeps talking and even though Junhyung can't process the exact meaning of his words he concentrates on the shape of his lips as they move, the cadence of his voice, and slowly, gradually, he can feel it-his throat opens up, air flows more freely into his lungs and they stop burning so much. His mother's face fades away and his father goes with her, leaving Junhyung at the mercy of the present. Eventually, Doojoon pulls the mask away and drops it into Junhyung's lap, pressing his fingers to Junhyung's throat and counting his pulse rate.
This has happened enough times that Junhyung really shouldn't feel as embarrassed as he does, but he can't help the spike of humiliation that flashes through him. He can't look at Doojoon, at the sympathetic expression he'll undoubtedly be wearing, because he's never wanted anyone to feel sorry for him, not ever.
"Thanks," he croaks.
"You okay?" Doojoon asks softly, concerned. "Wanna talk about it?"
Junhyung shakes his head, breathing slow and steady as he packs away the mask again, ignoring Doojoon's irritation. Doojoon asks every time, Junhyung gives the same answer every time, and every time Doojoon is disappointed. Junhyung thinks that it would save them both a lot of time and aggravation if he just gave up, because even though today is the day of his parents' second death anniversary, Yoseob is the only person who knows, the only person who will ever know.
Doojoon seems to think he's going to crack him, but really, it just makes Junhyung more determined not to give in.
"We should go," he says, already on his knees and shouldering his bag.
He feels Doojoon's eyes on him for a few moments before Doojoon reluctantly picks up his own pack and they creep out of the house together. Doojoon leads the way and Junhyung tries to distract himself by surveying their surroundings, staying alert in case of any movement that could lead to an attack.
It's hard to stay alert, though, when everything's so depressingly indistinguishable. A city has always been a city in his opinion, but now it's hard to differentiate between anywhere-the city could be suburbs could be the country. All that's left is rubble and destruction.
They pick their way around the hundredth burnt-out car in this street, taking care to avoid the still-burning fires glowing in the ruins around them, and before Junhyung knows it Doojoon has wandered off.
"Yah," he calls, "what are you doing, we need to stick to our route. Yah!"
Doojoon ignores him, though, as usual, and stubbornly makes for a building to their right, one of the lucky ones with walls still standing.
"Yah!" Junhyung tries again, but it's hopeless. When Doojoon gets an idea in his head, it's almost impossible to talk him out of it. Junhyung glances around them, but there's no-one, just the wind howling in his ears and licking at the thin strips of exposed skin on his wrists, around his neck and face. "Just hurry up."
"It's okay, I'm just…" Doojoon trails off and disappears behind the wreckage of another car.
Junhyung waits but when Doojoon still hasn't come out after a few more moments he sighs and drops onto one of the more sturdy-looking piles of debris. He leans down and runs his hand over the ground, gathering a handful of dirt and then letting it flow back through his fingers. It's fine and smooth, pale in colour, and Junhyung wonders briefly what it was before. Was it always here, part of the sandy soil of this particular area? Was it part of a building, some kind of construction material that's been so damaged this is all that's left? Or was it organic, some kind of living creature, a human or animal, one of the many to have perished in past months?
"Whatever," he mutters, standing and brushing his hands off on his thighs. He has no idea what Doojoon's doing but he's pissed off that he seems so eager to waste time.
"Yah," Doojoon calls and finally reappears just up ahead, denying Junhyung his opportunity to yell for him. He's framed by a blown-out window and looking very smug. "Isn't this where we first made out?"
"Want to die?" he asks reflexively, embarrassed, and Doojoon's smirk turns into an all-out grin.
"It is, I remember," he insists, but he finally comes out and makes his way back over to Junhyung. "I accidentally kicked the soccer ball into your head and you yelled at me and then when I checking for injuries I-"
Junhyung huffs out a breath, unable to hold it in any longer, and slaps a palm over Doojoon's mouth. "Can you just stop? I don't know what you're doing. Why are you talking about this when Yoseob's at home, in so much pain? How can you? I thought you loved him."
Doojoon frowns, bringing up his own hand to lower Junhyung's. "I would never… I'm just trying to distract you. This morning was pretty bad, I thought maybe what's happening with Yoseob-"
"I'd be distracted," Junhyung says sharply, although with a much less venom, "if we just concentrated on getting the medicine and then getting it to Yoseob."
Doojoon nods slowly. "Okay."
Junhyung turns his back on him and they start off again.
*
Junhyung has a scar. They all have scars, in as many senses of the word as possible, but this one is particularly prominent, a thick white groove traversing the length of his forearm. It's soft and smooth and raised, like the embossed envelopes his father used to send to other important businessmen. Yoseob likes to rub it for luck before he goes out scouting and Doojoon traces his rough fingertips over it at nighttime, but Junhyung loathes it.
That scar doesn't bring any luck, nor does it deserve to be touched so reverently. All that scar does is serve to remind Junhyung of the past, of when everything turned to shit, of when it first cut deep and ragged, dripping red and sending shocks of pain right through him. Of when his father screamed louder than he ever had at the soccer, of when his mother's face was so filled with fear that it's impossible for him to remember it any other way.
Sometimes Junhyung wishes he could scrub it right off, could erase everything that's happened since he got it, but not only is it impossible, it's also naïve.
There's no place for naivety in this world.
*
They travel in relative quiet all day, until it gets dark early and they have to stop, completely exhausted, in a small woodland area they discover not far from the main road.
Of course, it's not woodland as it once was, simply a mass of uprooted trees and fog after the months of destruction wreaked upon it, but they manage to find a small clearing to settle in. When they're erecting their tent Doojoon isn't as full of vigour as he usually is, and Junhyung notices him favouring his left arm, his face contorting every time he puts too much pressure on his right. Even so they finish quickly, working as a team, efficient after having done this for so many months and as soon as everything is set up Junhyung grabs Doojoon's arm, wrenching him closer, ignoring the way he cringes in pain.
He yanks up Doojoon's sleeves to reveal a bright red piece of material and stares. "What the fuck is this?"
The red is blood and it has seeped through the sock that Doojoon has hastily tied around the wound, and it's still steadily dripping out, soaking through to his long-sleeved shirt and even his jackets.
"When did you get this?" he demands, and Doojoon looks sheepish.
"When you told me off earlier."
"Why didn't you tell me, we could have stopped to fix it!"
"I was going to, but I didn't want to worry you. You've got enough-"
"You are such a fucking idiot," Junhyung growls. He shoves Doojoon into the tent and wriggles in after him, rolling out their sleeping bag and yanking Doojoon close. Junhyung roots through Doojoon's pack for the medical bag, taking it out carefully and emptying its contents out.
Doojoon is a surprisingly good patient. He doesn't complain, not even when Junhyung spills the antiseptic and keeps pulling too hard on the needle, he just gives Junhyung quiet instructions, directing him calmly and patiently. Junhyung bites down on the thread to break it off harder than he needs to, and Doojoon yelps and jolts back with the movement as it snaps, but he recovers quickly, flexing his arm out and back in, testing the stitches.
"It'll probably scar," Doojoon says. "We'll match." He grins but Junhyung says nothing, busying himself with packing away the medical implements, most of which he doesn't even know the purpose of. If Doojoon has any sense he won't push the issue, but this is Doojoon, so nothing is guaranteed.
"You never told me how you got yours," Doojoon continues, and Junhyung doesn't know whether to feel smug or disappointed. Instead he tries to focus on staying calm. He can feel Doojoon looking at him but he refuses to give in, zipping up the medical bag and shoving it back in Doojoon's pack.
"I'm going for a walk," he mutters, but Doojoon grabs his arm, thumb running over his scar, and Junhyung flinches.
"Junhyung," he says.
Junhyung tries to push him away but he doesn't take the hint and just grips tighter. "Let go."
"Why won't you ever tell me anything?" he asks. He sounds frustrated and angry, letting emotion into his voice for the first time in days, something other than bravado or fake cheer, and for a moment Junhyung is just glad that he's managed to crack through his stupid veneer.
"There's nothing to tell," he says, and he knows Doojoon picks up on the warning in his voice, but they're obviously past indulging each other at this point and he pushes on.
"Right, it just appeared one day. I know Yoseob knows, if he can know, why can't I?"
"Stop it," Junhyung says.
"Tell me," he commands, gaze intense and full of determined fire. "I don't understand why you can't. Is it me? You can trust me, I'm not-"
"Fucking stop it!" Junhyung wrenches away, Doojoon's fingernails scraping lightly over his scar, and hurries to crawl out of the tent before Doojoon can figure out how to do the same without further hurting himself. He scrambles up and stalks away, barely noticing the cold, concentrating on getting away.
Fuck Doojoon, fuck him and his stupid need to know everything, not to mention that stupid way he has of making Junhyung feel guilty for not telling him. He doesn't have to tell anyone anything, and he certainly shouldn't feel so pressured by someone who claims to care so much about him. Doojoon should respect his unwillingness to rehash his entire gruesome past, and get used to the fact that he'll probably never know and should really just back the fuck off.
After a few more moments of walking he hears a branch snap behind him and he turns to face Doojoon, opening his mouth to say something, but promptly forgets what it is when Doojoon moves right up into his personal space and pushes him against the nearest tree trunk. It's jagged and no taller than they are and it digs hard into Junhyung's back.
"What are you doing?" Junhyung asks warily, acutely aware of Doojoon's body, pressed against his at every possible point, warmth and softness that completely contrasts the cold bark.
"Just-" And Doojoon leans in so quickly Junhyung's reflexes take over and his head jerks back into the tree, but then Doojoon's lips slide against his and he relaxes because this, at least, he knows. Junhyung rolls his eyes and kisses back, his hands rising to Doojoon's hair.
This is how all of their arguments end and he's not going to be the one to break tradition.
*
They all have their skills and abilities and even though sometimes Junhyung has doubts about what he personally brings to the group, Doojoon will then go and say or do something stupid and he'll remember-right, he's the one they all go to when Doojoon says or does something stupid. Which happens a lot.
His relationship with Doojoon is a strange one, and Junhyung would say an suprising one, although apparently Yoseob never expected anything less. They fight, they disagree and they clash, but they never pretend.
Doojoon puts up a façade for everyone else. Most of the time it pisses Junhyung off, but then something will happen and he'll see Yoseob sitting with him, curling into his lap, quiet and unsure and vulnerable and then see him walk away again a few minutes later, laughing and bright and Yoseob again, and he'll understand exactly why he does it.
And he'll watch Doojoon as Yoseob walks away, see him finally allow the exhaustion and fatigue to creep onto his face, see him rub his eyes and rest his head between his knees, and know that he won't be denying Doojoon access to his sleeping bag that night.
*
The hospital hasn't escaped deterioration. From the outside, it doesn't even look like a hospital-it's covered in graffiti, run-down and dilapidated, windows smashed, boarded and reboarded innumerable times. Once sleek, modern infrastructure, a bustling high-rise of healing, it's now silent, dark and empty, looming ominously over them, merely an imitation of what it used to be.
Junhyung doesn't have the best history with hospitals. He spent a lot of time in one when his parents got sick, being ferried from one wing to the other, and has been repressing his memories of these places for years. In one way it's comforting that it looks nothing like he remembers, but in another it's just really fucking creepy.
Junhyung finds himself pressing closer to Doojoon as they approach. "How long is this going to take?" he asks quietly, matching Doojoon's pace as he slows to a stop a few metres from the doors. He needs to be in and out as quickly as possible. He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't Yoseob who was… He pokes Doojoon's arm. "Yah."
"Not long," Doojoon says distractedly. He hasn't taken his eyes off one of the front windows since they got closer, and as Junhyung looks too he sees a flash movement in a crack between the boards. "Okay," Doojoon continues, "let's go."
He starts off again and Junhyung strides next to him, trying not to look as queasy as he feels, but as soon as they get closer and the doors open for them, heralded by the shrieking of warped and degraded metal, he can feel his throat starting to close over.
He tries to breathe slowly.
They step inside and the doors shut again almost immediately, Junhyung turning to see two guys carefully working them closed, locking chains and piling sheets of heavy metals back in front of them to barricade them off, so they're practically triple the thickness they were.
It's cold inside, and dark, the only illumination created by a makeshift fire torch in the corner, and the tiny shafts of light filtering through cracks in the decrepit ceiling.
"Come on," Doojoon says lowly, warm breath flickering over Junhyung's neck, and Junhyung follows him down the dingy hall.
Doojoon seems to know exactly where he's going, but Junhyung gets lost in the maze of corridors almost immediately. It was bad enough when he could read the signs, but the further in they get the less hope he has of keeping his bearings. None of the rooms have doors and they feel like dark maws waiting to swallow him up, and occasionally he hears something-the scurrying of feet, a carried whisper-but mostly he tries to concentrate on Doojoon, right in front of him, the uneven hairline on the back of his neck reminding Junhyung that he needs a haircut.
"Okay," Doojoon says, and stops suddenly. Junhyung walks right into him and he doesn't completely hate the sudden burst of warmth. Doojoon must realize because he reaches back to hold him there for a moment. "Stay here, I'll be right back." He squeezes tighter.
Junhyung swallows and lets go, faking nonchalance. "Where else would you go?"
Doojoon rolls his eyes, presses onwards towards the only room with a door and knocks on it. When it opens he disappears inside and doesn't look back.
Junhyung tries to ignore the oppressiveness of the atmosphere, terrifyingly familiar even in such drastically different circumstances, because if he lets himself think about it too much then he knows he will completely lose control. And he can't afford to do that right now.
But he can do this.
Yoseob needs him. He'll do this for Yoseob.
Taking a deep breath, he leans against the wall and settles down to wait, trying to ignore the dread inexplicably pooling in his stomach.
*
It's hard to keep track of time with no plans, no news bulletins and no reliable technology, but Yoseob helps. He has his own set of documents, of calendars and diaries that he consults every day, special events noted and days crossed off as they pass. He remembers everyone's birthday, all the important anniversaries and even the special holidays.
They all pretend not to care, like it doesn't matter, like he's a nuisance-but they do care, it is important, and he's so, so special for bothering to keep up with it that Junhyung feels a little overwhelmed sometimes.
This is never more true than on the day of Junhyung's parents' first death anniversary. They're running low on candles and they have no food but when the others go out scouting Yoseob pulls out the last red candle they have, burned low, only about a centimetre high, and presents Junhyung with a plate. On it is a rice cake, the closest thing they've been able to find for a jeon pancake.
Junhyung narrows his eyes. "How did you even-"
"You're not that mysterious," he says, lips quirking for a moment, and then he sobers, lighting the candle and scooting backwards, letting Junhyung have his privacy, and Junhyung is profoundly grateful for the support.
It's a pale imitation of a proper ceremony, but it's something.
*
Doojoon does his thing quickly and emerges from the room again in under ten minutes. Junhyung can't help but grip his shoulder as he leads the way back out, and they both blink in the sudden light of the outside world.
Junhyung expects the horrible feeling to disappear as soon as they leave the hospital, but it doesn't-it only intensifies the closer they get to their home base, and he doesn't understand why. He snaps at a maddeningly calm Doojoon more than once on their trip, agitated and worried, unable to sleep that night and packing up early the next day, eager to get home.
When they arrive home it's to find Kikwang panicking completely, meeting them as soon as they step inside and screeching something about Yoseob being worse, and Junhyung knows that this is why he's felt so uneasy in these past hours.
Yoseob is dying.
He's is hit by the almost hysterical desire to turn and tell Doojoon I told you so, but Yoseob-Yoseob.
All he want to do is run to him but he forces himself to hang back and let Doojoon, the one who can actually help, the only one who can actually help, lead the way. The fear and panic intensify with every step forward, and he bursts into the room behind the others, staring at Yoseob as he sweats and tosses and turns, moaning unintelligible things, breathing way too heavily and quickly for anyone's comfort.
"He's in the third stage. It wasn't supposed to move this quickly," Doojoon mutters, swinging his pack off his shoulders, unzipping it and tipping everything out, but he's taking too long-Yoseob is getting worse by the second, gasping and coughing. Junhyung's stomach clenches tight and the feeling rises to his chest, gripping onto all of his organs and it's the most disgusting timing but even as Yoseob battles for air Junhyung can feel the bile rising in his own throat, feel his lungs closing in themselves and his airways compacting until suddenly he's wheezing just as much as Yoseob.
"Doo-doojoon-" he gasps, reaching out.
Doojoon spares him an annoyed glance before he registers Junhyung's condition and his eyes widen. "Shit, you're having an attack!" He glances quickly from Yoseob to Junhyung before leaning over, grabbing Junhyung's shoulders and forcing him to look him the eyes. "Junhyung, just look at me, it's okay, where's your mask? Is it in your bag?"
Junhyung pulls in a gasping breath, not sure of the answer, not sure of the question, nodding anyway because it's all he can do when his brain is starting to throb, his chest starting to burn, limbs starting to feel like wet pulpy cardboard.
Doojoon turns to where Kikwang is hovering anxiously in the doorway. "Kikwang, I need Junhyung's bag, go and get it now!"
Kikwang nods vigorously and Junhyung wants to try to tell him no, you can't, it's run out of air because I forgot to refill it because I'm pretty sure my best friend is dying and that was my priority but he doesn't have the capacity for words right now, can't think, can barely even keep his eyes open except for the fact that he can't look away from Yoseob, who is still thrashing and groaning in bed.
Doojoon makes a little broken noise and begins to shakes Junhyung's shoulders. "Junhyung, I can't- I need to get to Yoseob, he needs- Junhyung, you have to breathe, I can't-"
And then Yoseob goes still and Doojoon swears and everything seems like it happens in slow motion as Doojoon immediately drops his hands from Junhyung's shoulders, scoops up the package of medicine and rushes to Yoseob. Yoseob's eyes are wild, the whites of them practically glowing with the force of his fit, and even as Junhyung is falling to his knees in a gasping heap suddenly all he can think of are his parents. Even as Doojoon's hands scrabble at the complicated packaging of the medicine, his right arm still too sore and weak to open it, even as he screams for Kikwang, even as Junhyung finds himself crawling over and snatching the package from him and ripping it open with the very last of his energy, even as Doojoon frantically flicks the air out of the syringe and then plunges the needle through the lid of the medicine to draw it in and then rips it out and jams it into Yoseob's arm and depresses the plunger, even as he injects medicine into Yoseob's veins, Junhyung is remembering his parents, their last moments, the way his dad never woke up, the way his mom's eyes fluttered closed, the way their slack faces afterwards didn't give any indication of the suffering they're been through while they were alive.
Yoseob isn't like that, though. He won't end up like them, he won't, because his body suddenly jerks, every muscle in his body tensing and then relaxing, the first sign that the medicine is having an effect, and everything is okay. It's okay.
And then, as Junhyung collapses onto his back on the floor, gasping in relief, and the air flows freely into his lungs, he realises something else-he can breathe again.
*
Junhyung dreams of his mother.
He's dreamt of her before, dreams of her all the time, but it's different this time. She's always been scared, always hurting, always dying, but this time she's calm, serene, whole and much younger than in his memories.
She's wearing a red dress in a shade Junhyung has never seen her in before, not unless -but this time she's spotless, practically ethereal as she glides towards him. He watches her approach, eyes wide, and he wants to go to her, but he's lying on his back and he can't move. He doesn't even know where he is but it doesn't matter, because she's all he can see, anyway.
His breath hitches, catches and then quickens, all of the signs of an oncoming attack, but he can't do anything at all about it, can only continue to watch as she gets closer, closer, close enough to touch, kneeling beside and gazing at him tenderly.
It's such a counterpoint to all Junhyung's memories of her that he almost cries but he can't, because he can't breathe, and then-
And then she's lifting an oxygen mask to his face, fitting it over his mouth and gently pressing down and Junhyung takes a tiny, stuttering breath. His lungs fill, expanding and contracting and then repeating, and all he can see is her, her eyes full of love and promises and he can move now, so he brings his hand up, sliding it over hers, and she smiles tenderly and he knows, now, that everything is okay.
*
Junhyung wakes up blinking and disoriented. It takes him a few moments to place where he is and what he's doing, but then he remembers-Yoseob. His head instantly clears and sits up straight in the tattered armchair next to the bed to find Doojoon smiling back at him.
"Hey," Doojoon says, leaning over Yoseob and pressing his fingers to the pulse point in his neck.
Junhyung lets him count uninterrupted before responding. "How is he?"
"Much better. He should be fine." He pulls the covers up to Yoseob's chin.
Junhyung exhales shakily, his chest feeling lighter than it has in a long time. "Thank fuck." Out of the corner of his eye he sees Yoseob's eyelids twitch and he smirks. "Although if he had died, at least we could've split everything five ways instead of six."
Yoseob's eyes snap open and he glares. "Thanks."
Junhyung sniggers and stands up, moving to ruffle his hair. His glare turns into a pout and Junhyung's ruffling morphs into stroking accordingly. Yoseob snuggles down into the blankets and closes his eyes again.
Doojoon watches the display with amusement. "Kikwang and Dongwoon got back about an hour ago. They managed to find some food."
Junhyung's stomach grumbles at the mention and he nods, forcing himself to leave Yoseob's side. Doojoon follows, closing the door behind them.
"You okay?" he asks, and Junhyung turns to him.
"I'm fine. Yesterday I know I… sorry."
Doojoon watches him, obviously trying to figure out how far to push things this time, before saying carefully, "It was pretty intense. I've never seen you… but you calmed yourself down. That's good."
Junhyung nods, thinking of his mother in the red dress, loving and serene. Thinking of Yoseob's smiling face. Thinking of Doojoon's tight grip on his hands.
He won't ever let it control him again.
"I watched my parents suffer for months. They got sick and they were in pain and they were dying and no-one could do anything. I bathed them and I fed them and I watched them bleed and wheeze and fade away right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything. I just. That's why…"
He swallows and shakes his head and there is a short silence before Doojoon says, softly and simply, "Okay."
When Junhyung finally looks up Doojoon is giving him a small smile, understanding and kind and not pitying in the slightest, and he wraps an arm around Junhyung's shoulders as they turn and head for the kitchen. Junhyung is so, so grateful, and he feels so much lighter and he squeezes back, bringing their bodies close for a moment. As soon as they step into the kitchen he lets go to greet Dongwoon with an awkward one-armed hug and he claps Hyunseung on the back, genuinely glad to see them. They're organizing the supplies they scraped together-in reality they're meagre at best, but to Junhyung it seems like a feast-and Kikwang asks him to please get some firewood from outside.
He nods, his mood too good to bicker about anything, and heads outside.
The first thing he notices is the sky-it's grey, as always, but the clouds look different, lower and heavier somehow. And then he realizes the air is different, too. It smells strange, electric, and there's something familiar about it that lingers on the edges of his memory.
When he puts the two together, it's almost too ridiculous to believe.
"Shit," he breathes, reaching out blindly to open the door again. "Doojoon. Doojoon!"
"What?" Doojoon skids into the hallway, munching on something, and Junhyung would scold him about starting before everyone else if there weren't something so crazy happening at this very second.
"Get out here," Junhyung commands, "get everyone out here."
It must be the combination of his tone and expression that has Doojoon doing so immediately, and it takes him less than a minute to shepherd everyone in the kitchen out. They all gather around Junhyung, Hyunseung looking particularly disgruntled, but then Junhyung points up and all they can do is stare is stare in silence.
"The sky," someone says finally, voice wavering in reverence, and they all turn to see Yoseob standing in the doorway, blanket around his shoulders, face tilted up. Junhyung is itching to tell him to get back inside, to look after himself, he's still sick, but he ends up keeping silent, and no-one stops Yoseob as he pushes past them and into the street, standing closer to the road.
They're all daring to hope.
Yoseob's only been standing there a few moments when he starts in shock and Junhyung makes his feet move and rushes over to him but Yoseob just presses a hand to his face and then holds it up and even the others can tell that it's wet.
Yoseob turns to Junhyung, eyes large and mouth curved up higher than he's ever seen it, and Junhyung feels his heartbeat immediately start to quicken, because the possibility of what this might mean is just-
"It's rain," Yoseob breathes. "Rain."
"Ssh," Hyunseung hisses, staring up at the sky, and for a moment they're all silent again, waiting. Excitement simmers in the air but Junhyung won't let himself get caught up in it, he can't, not yet, not until he knows for sure, not until-
"Gah!" Dongwoon yelps and jumps, pressing his palm to his nose in amazement. "I felt it! I felt a raindrop! I-"
"I felt it too!" Kikwang grins ecstatically at them all, spreading his arms wide, and all at once those four raindrops turn into four more, and then eight more, and then twelve more and Junhyung can see them fall, feel them, hear them, and then they're everything, obscuring his senses, slicing through the air to spot the ground.
Junhyung finds himself looking down, watching in a daze as the ground darkens, water quickly gathering in the grooves on the road and then overflowing, months of dirt and blood and grime being washed away forever.
A hand clamps onto his arm and he looks up and everything filters back in: Hyunseung twirling and Kikwang jumping, both shirtless, enraptured and irrepressible; Yoseob opening his mouth wide, letting it fill to overflowing before gulping down, pausing only to whoop in delight; Dongwoon running his fingers through his hair, scrubbing at his skin, the first shower he's felt in far too long. Doojoon's hand tightens and Junhyung looks at him, blinking droplets from his eyelashes. Doojoon's hair is plastered to his head unattractively and there's water dripping out of his nose and into his mouth but it doesn't matter, it's never mattered less, because he's smiling, beaming, wide and hopeful. He leans in and presses his lips to Junhyung's, licking the water from his top lip and Junhyung closes his eyes and-
And Junhyung finally lets himself feel.
*
He can breathe again.
*
Recipient: nautisch
Pairing: Junhyung/Doojoon
Word count: ~7400
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Some vague descriptions of death?
Summary: Junhyung's stomach clenches tight and the feeling rises to his chest, gripping onto all of his organs and it's the most disgusting timing but even as Yoseob battles for air Junhyung can feel the bile rising in his own throat, feel his lungs closing in themselves and his airways compacting until suddenly he's wheezing just as much as Yoseob.
Notes: Heavily based on the Soom MV. I didn't achieve everything I wanted to with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! <3
Fear is excitement without breath - Robert Heller
*
Junhyung remembers things from before, sometimes, tiny snapshots of what life was like-how his mother sounded when she was angry, his father's cigarette-stained fingers, what a bath felt like, the flashing lights and hazy air and thumping bass of a club, the way his third girlfriend's school skirt would flip up at the slightest breeze-and he doesn't know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
He was at a difficult age when it happened, too young to remember, but too old to forget. There are snippets, flashes that constantly plague his mind, particularly vivid when he's having a panic attack, when he's struggling to pull in a breath, for his throat to open up enough for air to slip through. He's not even sure how many of them are real and how many of them he's made up, gleaned from movies and video games of his youth, from stories others have told him, from dreams and faded, ragged photos, but whatever the case, he tries not to let himself reflect on them for long.
Things aren't like that anymore, and no-one has any choice but to move on.
*
When Yoseob's fever spikes, they have no choice but to split up.
Although they usually try to avoid dividing themselves up so completely, this time they can't help it-it's not just medicine they need, but food and water, too. Sometimes rations are still dropped, from unknown sources, but they are irregular and claimed quickly, often appearing on the black market in return for ridiculous demands. A lot of the time their scouting trips are fruitless, and end in them having to raid their own supplies of dried and tinned foods, but their stockpile is dwindling fast and it isn't going to last them much longer.
It's dangerous and there are gangs more violent than theirs who would kill for a speck of food and Junhyung's even heard stories of cannibals, of people who've turned to other people for sustenance, but everyone in their group is well-practiced at this. They've been out hunting and scouting so many times that it's second nature, in any combination of members.
This time three groups of two is the only option. Still, when Junhyung realises that Doojoon intends to leave Yoseob at their home base alone with Kikwang, he can't help but call him on it.
"Yah," he says, pulling him aside as he zips up his pack, "why aren't you the one staying with Seobie? You're the medic."
"Which also makes me the only one with the connections and the know-how to get what he really needs. Trust me, Junhyung, I've thought this through." He glances at Dongwoon and Hyunseung on other side of the shabby, worn living room, preparing for their own journey, then straightens and puts a heavy hand on Junhyung's bicep, stepping closer. "Yoseob is only in the beginning of stage two. Kikwang is the best fighter and he'll be able to protect-"
Junhyung shakes him off. "What if something happens? You say Seobie has time, but what if he doesn't? What if he gets worse?"
Doojoon's expression darkens. "If Yoseob's condition deteriorates," he says quietly, "there'll be nothing any of us can do without the right medicine, anyway."
The terrifying truth of that hits Junhyung like a bullet and he suddenly finds his throat going horribly dry.
"I don't like it either," Doojoon says softly, obviously sensing him relenting. He slides his hand up Junhyung's arm and to his neck, rubbing gently at the curve of it, and Junhyung tries to pretend he doesn't find it as comforting as he does. "But we have no choice."
Junhyung sighs. "Where are we going? When?"
"We'll leave in the morning. There's an old hospital about a day away from here," he says, and Junhyung immediately finds himself tensing up. Hospital. Hospital. Doojoon must notice, because his grip tightens and he frowns. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." He looks over Doojoon's shoulder to see Dongwoon watching them with a horrifically sappy expression and immediately pulls back, Doojoon's fingertips sliding uselessly down his chest. "I'm going to get ready," he says gruffly, backing out.
He pauses in the hallway at the door to Yoseob's room, watching through the half-open door. He hates how tiny Yoseob looks in the bed. It's only an old hospital cot, swiped from one of the last hospitals Doojoon volunteered at before even they turned to shit, but it still manages to completely swallow him, dwarfing him and making him seem frighteningly like a small, sickly child.
Junhyung guesses that it's a good sign that he's still able to laugh and joke with Kikwang, but the problem with Yoseob is that he acts like he's fine for a long time, lets things build up and up and up until they explode. He worries about burdening the group, and even when he got the sickness he didn't tell anyone, not until he collapsed two days ago and Doojoon had realized he had entered into the second stage.
The same thing happened when he hurt his neck. For days he's simply laughed it off as a crick from sleeping badly, but it lingered long enough for Junhyung to worry and insist on Doojoon checking him out properly. Only then did they realize that Yoseob was severely understating things, and actually had problems with his spinal cord.
Yoseob wears a neck brace now. That and his dark hair are the only things that set him apart at all from the sterile white of the room, and Junhyung is almost thankful for them.
Yoseob looks over, then, noticing him at the door, and grins. Junhyung takes heart from the fact that that, at least, hasn't changed.
"Hey," he says, pushing inside. "How are you feeling?"
Yoseob huffs and crosses his arms, obviously trying to look mad but only succeeding in looking cute.
"What'd I say?" Junhyung asks, turning to Kikwang.
Kikwang grins, eyes smiling along with him. "He wants people to stop treating him like a child. He says-"
"Yah, I can speak for myself. Go and do something useful for once," Yoseob scolds him, pouting, and Kikwang grins wider, taking the opportunity to clean up a little. His tattoos curl up his arms in strange patterns, flexing with his muscles as he goes about collecting Yoseob's various dirty utensils. Junhyung often finds himself tracing them up his arms with his eyes, trying to discern some meaning from them. He doesn't know where they came from, just that Kikwang went through some difficult times alone before they formed their group.
It's just another thing, along with Hyunseung's hideous accessories and Dongwoon's terrifying aptitude for maths problems, that Junhyung doesn't pry into. Junhyung sometimes wishes Doojoon would show the same restraint when it comes to the past, but then, if he only showed indifference, he probably wouldn't be fit to be their leader.
"Call if you need anything," Kikwang says, and Yoseob waves him away, waiting until he's gone before reaching out and dragging Junhyung closer, linking their hands and forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Yah!" Junhyung complains, but it's only half-hearted. He can never really yell at Yoseob, not even when he deserves it. He tried, for a while, too stay aloof, to keep himself separate, but with someone like Yoseob around that's impossible. Yoseob crawls under his skin and makes a home for himself and Junhyung tells him things and he doesn't even know why. There's no need to try and maintain any type of barrier with Yoseob, and even if he tried, Yoseob would break through it anyway.
"Are you going to be okay?" Yoseob asks, playing with his fingers. "You're going to a hospital…"
Junhyung shifts uncomfortably at the reminder. It had probably been naïve of him not to connect needing medicine and having to visit a medical facility of some kind, but he honestly hadn't thought that far.
Of course Yoseob has.
"Of course I am. Who do you think I am, Doojoon?" he finally answers. "I'm not going to cry over every little thing."
"Okay, okay," Yoseob says, laughing. His thumb strokes over Junhyung's palm and Junhyung squeezes his fingers before letting go and standing up.
"I'm leaving first. I need to go and nag the others."
"Okay." Yoseob's face falls and Junhyung feels himself melt a little.
Again.
"I'll see you later. Or I'll kill you," he says meaningfully, and Yoseob smiles again, nodding.
"Hey," Yoseob says, just before he leaves, "remember to take your mask."
"Stop it," Junhyung says. "You're turning into me."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he says playfully.
Junhyung just raises an eyebrow.
*
No-one remembers the last time it rained. There are those who remember the sensation of it, what it sounded like, tasted like, but not one person can recall the last time they felt it on their skin. The date it all started is hazy, too, because it happened so gradually-year by year, it simply rained less and less, until it didn't rain at all.
It changed everything. Limited rain had already caused problems but the complete absence of a renewing fresh water source set society back countless years. There was a rationing system instated, but by the time it came into effect even the aid from other countries and a network of desalination plants couldn't stop diseases forming and spreading, epidemics overloading now-inadequate hospitals. And then everything stopped: no more aid, no more government contact. The people were forced to fend for themselves and most of them failed.
Junhyung's parents were no exception. They suffered, just like millions of others, and they died, just like millions of others. Junhyung was orphaned, just like millions of others, left with nothing except memories, nightmares and the inability to breathe.
And then Junhyung met Doojoon in the hospital when he had another attack. Kikwang and Yoseob were already Junhyung's friends and Doojoon kind of already knew Dongwoon and then Hyunseung came along and none of them had anyone else, so it was kind of natural that they all fell together.
They're his family now. They help him forget.
Most of the time.
*
Junhyung wakes up gasping, thrashing and scrabbling and completely unable to breathe, the images of his parents bloodied and defeated and dying playing on repeat with disturbing clarity in his brain. He's trying to calm himself down but the lack of air only makes him even more panicked and his oesophagus is closing rapidly, too rapidly to even try to take one more breath. His oxygen mask in his bag and his bag is on Doojoon's side because he forgot to move it before they went to sleep and he has no idea how he made such a stupid mistake but now he's definitely paying for it.
In his hysteria he tries to reach over Doojoon and grab it but he can't control his limbs properly and ends up falling over Doojoon, elbowing him in the stomach, empty fingers of his other hand trailing over his neck. Doojoon wakes with a start, hands automatically coming up to shield himself from an oncoming attack. When he realizes what's happening he bursts into action immediately, pushing Junhyung up into a sitting position and wrenching the mask out his pack, uncoiling the tangled cord and pressing it to Junhyung's face, and after a few seconds Junhyung can feel the pressurized air against his skin. He opens his mouth wide and breathes in slowly, suppressing the urge to drag it in as quickly as possible.
"It's okay," Doojoon soothes, helping Junhyung hold the mask up. "Come on, it's okay, just breathe."
He keeps talking and even though Junhyung can't process the exact meaning of his words he concentrates on the shape of his lips as they move, the cadence of his voice, and slowly, gradually, he can feel it-his throat opens up, air flows more freely into his lungs and they stop burning so much. His mother's face fades away and his father goes with her, leaving Junhyung at the mercy of the present. Eventually, Doojoon pulls the mask away and drops it into Junhyung's lap, pressing his fingers to Junhyung's throat and counting his pulse rate.
This has happened enough times that Junhyung really shouldn't feel as embarrassed as he does, but he can't help the spike of humiliation that flashes through him. He can't look at Doojoon, at the sympathetic expression he'll undoubtedly be wearing, because he's never wanted anyone to feel sorry for him, not ever.
"Thanks," he croaks.
"You okay?" Doojoon asks softly, concerned. "Wanna talk about it?"
Junhyung shakes his head, breathing slow and steady as he packs away the mask again, ignoring Doojoon's irritation. Doojoon asks every time, Junhyung gives the same answer every time, and every time Doojoon is disappointed. Junhyung thinks that it would save them both a lot of time and aggravation if he just gave up, because even though today is the day of his parents' second death anniversary, Yoseob is the only person who knows, the only person who will ever know.
Doojoon seems to think he's going to crack him, but really, it just makes Junhyung more determined not to give in.
"We should go," he says, already on his knees and shouldering his bag.
He feels Doojoon's eyes on him for a few moments before Doojoon reluctantly picks up his own pack and they creep out of the house together. Doojoon leads the way and Junhyung tries to distract himself by surveying their surroundings, staying alert in case of any movement that could lead to an attack.
It's hard to stay alert, though, when everything's so depressingly indistinguishable. A city has always been a city in his opinion, but now it's hard to differentiate between anywhere-the city could be suburbs could be the country. All that's left is rubble and destruction.
They pick their way around the hundredth burnt-out car in this street, taking care to avoid the still-burning fires glowing in the ruins around them, and before Junhyung knows it Doojoon has wandered off.
"Yah," he calls, "what are you doing, we need to stick to our route. Yah!"
Doojoon ignores him, though, as usual, and stubbornly makes for a building to their right, one of the lucky ones with walls still standing.
"Yah!" Junhyung tries again, but it's hopeless. When Doojoon gets an idea in his head, it's almost impossible to talk him out of it. Junhyung glances around them, but there's no-one, just the wind howling in his ears and licking at the thin strips of exposed skin on his wrists, around his neck and face. "Just hurry up."
"It's okay, I'm just…" Doojoon trails off and disappears behind the wreckage of another car.
Junhyung waits but when Doojoon still hasn't come out after a few more moments he sighs and drops onto one of the more sturdy-looking piles of debris. He leans down and runs his hand over the ground, gathering a handful of dirt and then letting it flow back through his fingers. It's fine and smooth, pale in colour, and Junhyung wonders briefly what it was before. Was it always here, part of the sandy soil of this particular area? Was it part of a building, some kind of construction material that's been so damaged this is all that's left? Or was it organic, some kind of living creature, a human or animal, one of the many to have perished in past months?
"Whatever," he mutters, standing and brushing his hands off on his thighs. He has no idea what Doojoon's doing but he's pissed off that he seems so eager to waste time.
"Yah," Doojoon calls and finally reappears just up ahead, denying Junhyung his opportunity to yell for him. He's framed by a blown-out window and looking very smug. "Isn't this where we first made out?"
"Want to die?" he asks reflexively, embarrassed, and Doojoon's smirk turns into an all-out grin.
"It is, I remember," he insists, but he finally comes out and makes his way back over to Junhyung. "I accidentally kicked the soccer ball into your head and you yelled at me and then when I checking for injuries I-"
Junhyung huffs out a breath, unable to hold it in any longer, and slaps a palm over Doojoon's mouth. "Can you just stop? I don't know what you're doing. Why are you talking about this when Yoseob's at home, in so much pain? How can you? I thought you loved him."
Doojoon frowns, bringing up his own hand to lower Junhyung's. "I would never… I'm just trying to distract you. This morning was pretty bad, I thought maybe what's happening with Yoseob-"
"I'd be distracted," Junhyung says sharply, although with a much less venom, "if we just concentrated on getting the medicine and then getting it to Yoseob."
Doojoon nods slowly. "Okay."
Junhyung turns his back on him and they start off again.
*
Junhyung has a scar. They all have scars, in as many senses of the word as possible, but this one is particularly prominent, a thick white groove traversing the length of his forearm. It's soft and smooth and raised, like the embossed envelopes his father used to send to other important businessmen. Yoseob likes to rub it for luck before he goes out scouting and Doojoon traces his rough fingertips over it at nighttime, but Junhyung loathes it.
That scar doesn't bring any luck, nor does it deserve to be touched so reverently. All that scar does is serve to remind Junhyung of the past, of when everything turned to shit, of when it first cut deep and ragged, dripping red and sending shocks of pain right through him. Of when his father screamed louder than he ever had at the soccer, of when his mother's face was so filled with fear that it's impossible for him to remember it any other way.
Sometimes Junhyung wishes he could scrub it right off, could erase everything that's happened since he got it, but not only is it impossible, it's also naïve.
There's no place for naivety in this world.
*
They travel in relative quiet all day, until it gets dark early and they have to stop, completely exhausted, in a small woodland area they discover not far from the main road.
Of course, it's not woodland as it once was, simply a mass of uprooted trees and fog after the months of destruction wreaked upon it, but they manage to find a small clearing to settle in. When they're erecting their tent Doojoon isn't as full of vigour as he usually is, and Junhyung notices him favouring his left arm, his face contorting every time he puts too much pressure on his right. Even so they finish quickly, working as a team, efficient after having done this for so many months and as soon as everything is set up Junhyung grabs Doojoon's arm, wrenching him closer, ignoring the way he cringes in pain.
He yanks up Doojoon's sleeves to reveal a bright red piece of material and stares. "What the fuck is this?"
The red is blood and it has seeped through the sock that Doojoon has hastily tied around the wound, and it's still steadily dripping out, soaking through to his long-sleeved shirt and even his jackets.
"When did you get this?" he demands, and Doojoon looks sheepish.
"When you told me off earlier."
"Why didn't you tell me, we could have stopped to fix it!"
"I was going to, but I didn't want to worry you. You've got enough-"
"You are such a fucking idiot," Junhyung growls. He shoves Doojoon into the tent and wriggles in after him, rolling out their sleeping bag and yanking Doojoon close. Junhyung roots through Doojoon's pack for the medical bag, taking it out carefully and emptying its contents out.
Doojoon is a surprisingly good patient. He doesn't complain, not even when Junhyung spills the antiseptic and keeps pulling too hard on the needle, he just gives Junhyung quiet instructions, directing him calmly and patiently. Junhyung bites down on the thread to break it off harder than he needs to, and Doojoon yelps and jolts back with the movement as it snaps, but he recovers quickly, flexing his arm out and back in, testing the stitches.
"It'll probably scar," Doojoon says. "We'll match." He grins but Junhyung says nothing, busying himself with packing away the medical implements, most of which he doesn't even know the purpose of. If Doojoon has any sense he won't push the issue, but this is Doojoon, so nothing is guaranteed.
"You never told me how you got yours," Doojoon continues, and Junhyung doesn't know whether to feel smug or disappointed. Instead he tries to focus on staying calm. He can feel Doojoon looking at him but he refuses to give in, zipping up the medical bag and shoving it back in Doojoon's pack.
"I'm going for a walk," he mutters, but Doojoon grabs his arm, thumb running over his scar, and Junhyung flinches.
"Junhyung," he says.
Junhyung tries to push him away but he doesn't take the hint and just grips tighter. "Let go."
"Why won't you ever tell me anything?" he asks. He sounds frustrated and angry, letting emotion into his voice for the first time in days, something other than bravado or fake cheer, and for a moment Junhyung is just glad that he's managed to crack through his stupid veneer.
"There's nothing to tell," he says, and he knows Doojoon picks up on the warning in his voice, but they're obviously past indulging each other at this point and he pushes on.
"Right, it just appeared one day. I know Yoseob knows, if he can know, why can't I?"
"Stop it," Junhyung says.
"Tell me," he commands, gaze intense and full of determined fire. "I don't understand why you can't. Is it me? You can trust me, I'm not-"
"Fucking stop it!" Junhyung wrenches away, Doojoon's fingernails scraping lightly over his scar, and hurries to crawl out of the tent before Doojoon can figure out how to do the same without further hurting himself. He scrambles up and stalks away, barely noticing the cold, concentrating on getting away.
Fuck Doojoon, fuck him and his stupid need to know everything, not to mention that stupid way he has of making Junhyung feel guilty for not telling him. He doesn't have to tell anyone anything, and he certainly shouldn't feel so pressured by someone who claims to care so much about him. Doojoon should respect his unwillingness to rehash his entire gruesome past, and get used to the fact that he'll probably never know and should really just back the fuck off.
After a few more moments of walking he hears a branch snap behind him and he turns to face Doojoon, opening his mouth to say something, but promptly forgets what it is when Doojoon moves right up into his personal space and pushes him against the nearest tree trunk. It's jagged and no taller than they are and it digs hard into Junhyung's back.
"What are you doing?" Junhyung asks warily, acutely aware of Doojoon's body, pressed against his at every possible point, warmth and softness that completely contrasts the cold bark.
"Just-" And Doojoon leans in so quickly Junhyung's reflexes take over and his head jerks back into the tree, but then Doojoon's lips slide against his and he relaxes because this, at least, he knows. Junhyung rolls his eyes and kisses back, his hands rising to Doojoon's hair.
This is how all of their arguments end and he's not going to be the one to break tradition.
*
They all have their skills and abilities and even though sometimes Junhyung has doubts about what he personally brings to the group, Doojoon will then go and say or do something stupid and he'll remember-right, he's the one they all go to when Doojoon says or does something stupid. Which happens a lot.
His relationship with Doojoon is a strange one, and Junhyung would say an suprising one, although apparently Yoseob never expected anything less. They fight, they disagree and they clash, but they never pretend.
Doojoon puts up a façade for everyone else. Most of the time it pisses Junhyung off, but then something will happen and he'll see Yoseob sitting with him, curling into his lap, quiet and unsure and vulnerable and then see him walk away again a few minutes later, laughing and bright and Yoseob again, and he'll understand exactly why he does it.
And he'll watch Doojoon as Yoseob walks away, see him finally allow the exhaustion and fatigue to creep onto his face, see him rub his eyes and rest his head between his knees, and know that he won't be denying Doojoon access to his sleeping bag that night.
*
The hospital hasn't escaped deterioration. From the outside, it doesn't even look like a hospital-it's covered in graffiti, run-down and dilapidated, windows smashed, boarded and reboarded innumerable times. Once sleek, modern infrastructure, a bustling high-rise of healing, it's now silent, dark and empty, looming ominously over them, merely an imitation of what it used to be.
Junhyung doesn't have the best history with hospitals. He spent a lot of time in one when his parents got sick, being ferried from one wing to the other, and has been repressing his memories of these places for years. In one way it's comforting that it looks nothing like he remembers, but in another it's just really fucking creepy.
Junhyung finds himself pressing closer to Doojoon as they approach. "How long is this going to take?" he asks quietly, matching Doojoon's pace as he slows to a stop a few metres from the doors. He needs to be in and out as quickly as possible. He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't Yoseob who was… He pokes Doojoon's arm. "Yah."
"Not long," Doojoon says distractedly. He hasn't taken his eyes off one of the front windows since they got closer, and as Junhyung looks too he sees a flash movement in a crack between the boards. "Okay," Doojoon continues, "let's go."
He starts off again and Junhyung strides next to him, trying not to look as queasy as he feels, but as soon as they get closer and the doors open for them, heralded by the shrieking of warped and degraded metal, he can feel his throat starting to close over.
He tries to breathe slowly.
They step inside and the doors shut again almost immediately, Junhyung turning to see two guys carefully working them closed, locking chains and piling sheets of heavy metals back in front of them to barricade them off, so they're practically triple the thickness they were.
It's cold inside, and dark, the only illumination created by a makeshift fire torch in the corner, and the tiny shafts of light filtering through cracks in the decrepit ceiling.
"Come on," Doojoon says lowly, warm breath flickering over Junhyung's neck, and Junhyung follows him down the dingy hall.
Doojoon seems to know exactly where he's going, but Junhyung gets lost in the maze of corridors almost immediately. It was bad enough when he could read the signs, but the further in they get the less hope he has of keeping his bearings. None of the rooms have doors and they feel like dark maws waiting to swallow him up, and occasionally he hears something-the scurrying of feet, a carried whisper-but mostly he tries to concentrate on Doojoon, right in front of him, the uneven hairline on the back of his neck reminding Junhyung that he needs a haircut.
"Okay," Doojoon says, and stops suddenly. Junhyung walks right into him and he doesn't completely hate the sudden burst of warmth. Doojoon must realize because he reaches back to hold him there for a moment. "Stay here, I'll be right back." He squeezes tighter.
Junhyung swallows and lets go, faking nonchalance. "Where else would you go?"
Doojoon rolls his eyes, presses onwards towards the only room with a door and knocks on it. When it opens he disappears inside and doesn't look back.
Junhyung tries to ignore the oppressiveness of the atmosphere, terrifyingly familiar even in such drastically different circumstances, because if he lets himself think about it too much then he knows he will completely lose control. And he can't afford to do that right now.
But he can do this.
Yoseob needs him. He'll do this for Yoseob.
Taking a deep breath, he leans against the wall and settles down to wait, trying to ignore the dread inexplicably pooling in his stomach.
*
It's hard to keep track of time with no plans, no news bulletins and no reliable technology, but Yoseob helps. He has his own set of documents, of calendars and diaries that he consults every day, special events noted and days crossed off as they pass. He remembers everyone's birthday, all the important anniversaries and even the special holidays.
They all pretend not to care, like it doesn't matter, like he's a nuisance-but they do care, it is important, and he's so, so special for bothering to keep up with it that Junhyung feels a little overwhelmed sometimes.
This is never more true than on the day of Junhyung's parents' first death anniversary. They're running low on candles and they have no food but when the others go out scouting Yoseob pulls out the last red candle they have, burned low, only about a centimetre high, and presents Junhyung with a plate. On it is a rice cake, the closest thing they've been able to find for a jeon pancake.
Junhyung narrows his eyes. "How did you even-"
"You're not that mysterious," he says, lips quirking for a moment, and then he sobers, lighting the candle and scooting backwards, letting Junhyung have his privacy, and Junhyung is profoundly grateful for the support.
It's a pale imitation of a proper ceremony, but it's something.
*
Doojoon does his thing quickly and emerges from the room again in under ten minutes. Junhyung can't help but grip his shoulder as he leads the way back out, and they both blink in the sudden light of the outside world.
Junhyung expects the horrible feeling to disappear as soon as they leave the hospital, but it doesn't-it only intensifies the closer they get to their home base, and he doesn't understand why. He snaps at a maddeningly calm Doojoon more than once on their trip, agitated and worried, unable to sleep that night and packing up early the next day, eager to get home.
When they arrive home it's to find Kikwang panicking completely, meeting them as soon as they step inside and screeching something about Yoseob being worse, and Junhyung knows that this is why he's felt so uneasy in these past hours.
Yoseob is dying.
He's is hit by the almost hysterical desire to turn and tell Doojoon I told you so, but Yoseob-Yoseob.
All he want to do is run to him but he forces himself to hang back and let Doojoon, the one who can actually help, the only one who can actually help, lead the way. The fear and panic intensify with every step forward, and he bursts into the room behind the others, staring at Yoseob as he sweats and tosses and turns, moaning unintelligible things, breathing way too heavily and quickly for anyone's comfort.
"He's in the third stage. It wasn't supposed to move this quickly," Doojoon mutters, swinging his pack off his shoulders, unzipping it and tipping everything out, but he's taking too long-Yoseob is getting worse by the second, gasping and coughing. Junhyung's stomach clenches tight and the feeling rises to his chest, gripping onto all of his organs and it's the most disgusting timing but even as Yoseob battles for air Junhyung can feel the bile rising in his own throat, feel his lungs closing in themselves and his airways compacting until suddenly he's wheezing just as much as Yoseob.
"Doo-doojoon-" he gasps, reaching out.
Doojoon spares him an annoyed glance before he registers Junhyung's condition and his eyes widen. "Shit, you're having an attack!" He glances quickly from Yoseob to Junhyung before leaning over, grabbing Junhyung's shoulders and forcing him to look him the eyes. "Junhyung, just look at me, it's okay, where's your mask? Is it in your bag?"
Junhyung pulls in a gasping breath, not sure of the answer, not sure of the question, nodding anyway because it's all he can do when his brain is starting to throb, his chest starting to burn, limbs starting to feel like wet pulpy cardboard.
Doojoon turns to where Kikwang is hovering anxiously in the doorway. "Kikwang, I need Junhyung's bag, go and get it now!"
Kikwang nods vigorously and Junhyung wants to try to tell him no, you can't, it's run out of air because I forgot to refill it because I'm pretty sure my best friend is dying and that was my priority but he doesn't have the capacity for words right now, can't think, can barely even keep his eyes open except for the fact that he can't look away from Yoseob, who is still thrashing and groaning in bed.
Doojoon makes a little broken noise and begins to shakes Junhyung's shoulders. "Junhyung, I can't- I need to get to Yoseob, he needs- Junhyung, you have to breathe, I can't-"
And then Yoseob goes still and Doojoon swears and everything seems like it happens in slow motion as Doojoon immediately drops his hands from Junhyung's shoulders, scoops up the package of medicine and rushes to Yoseob. Yoseob's eyes are wild, the whites of them practically glowing with the force of his fit, and even as Junhyung is falling to his knees in a gasping heap suddenly all he can think of are his parents. Even as Doojoon's hands scrabble at the complicated packaging of the medicine, his right arm still too sore and weak to open it, even as he screams for Kikwang, even as Junhyung finds himself crawling over and snatching the package from him and ripping it open with the very last of his energy, even as Doojoon frantically flicks the air out of the syringe and then plunges the needle through the lid of the medicine to draw it in and then rips it out and jams it into Yoseob's arm and depresses the plunger, even as he injects medicine into Yoseob's veins, Junhyung is remembering his parents, their last moments, the way his dad never woke up, the way his mom's eyes fluttered closed, the way their slack faces afterwards didn't give any indication of the suffering they're been through while they were alive.
Yoseob isn't like that, though. He won't end up like them, he won't, because his body suddenly jerks, every muscle in his body tensing and then relaxing, the first sign that the medicine is having an effect, and everything is okay. It's okay.
And then, as Junhyung collapses onto his back on the floor, gasping in relief, and the air flows freely into his lungs, he realises something else-he can breathe again.
*
Junhyung dreams of his mother.
He's dreamt of her before, dreams of her all the time, but it's different this time. She's always been scared, always hurting, always dying, but this time she's calm, serene, whole and much younger than in his memories.
She's wearing a red dress in a shade Junhyung has never seen her in before, not unless -but this time she's spotless, practically ethereal as she glides towards him. He watches her approach, eyes wide, and he wants to go to her, but he's lying on his back and he can't move. He doesn't even know where he is but it doesn't matter, because she's all he can see, anyway.
His breath hitches, catches and then quickens, all of the signs of an oncoming attack, but he can't do anything at all about it, can only continue to watch as she gets closer, closer, close enough to touch, kneeling beside and gazing at him tenderly.
It's such a counterpoint to all Junhyung's memories of her that he almost cries but he can't, because he can't breathe, and then-
And then she's lifting an oxygen mask to his face, fitting it over his mouth and gently pressing down and Junhyung takes a tiny, stuttering breath. His lungs fill, expanding and contracting and then repeating, and all he can see is her, her eyes full of love and promises and he can move now, so he brings his hand up, sliding it over hers, and she smiles tenderly and he knows, now, that everything is okay.
*
Junhyung wakes up blinking and disoriented. It takes him a few moments to place where he is and what he's doing, but then he remembers-Yoseob. His head instantly clears and sits up straight in the tattered armchair next to the bed to find Doojoon smiling back at him.
"Hey," Doojoon says, leaning over Yoseob and pressing his fingers to the pulse point in his neck.
Junhyung lets him count uninterrupted before responding. "How is he?"
"Much better. He should be fine." He pulls the covers up to Yoseob's chin.
Junhyung exhales shakily, his chest feeling lighter than it has in a long time. "Thank fuck." Out of the corner of his eye he sees Yoseob's eyelids twitch and he smirks. "Although if he had died, at least we could've split everything five ways instead of six."
Yoseob's eyes snap open and he glares. "Thanks."
Junhyung sniggers and stands up, moving to ruffle his hair. His glare turns into a pout and Junhyung's ruffling morphs into stroking accordingly. Yoseob snuggles down into the blankets and closes his eyes again.
Doojoon watches the display with amusement. "Kikwang and Dongwoon got back about an hour ago. They managed to find some food."
Junhyung's stomach grumbles at the mention and he nods, forcing himself to leave Yoseob's side. Doojoon follows, closing the door behind them.
"You okay?" he asks, and Junhyung turns to him.
"I'm fine. Yesterday I know I… sorry."
Doojoon watches him, obviously trying to figure out how far to push things this time, before saying carefully, "It was pretty intense. I've never seen you… but you calmed yourself down. That's good."
Junhyung nods, thinking of his mother in the red dress, loving and serene. Thinking of Yoseob's smiling face. Thinking of Doojoon's tight grip on his hands.
He won't ever let it control him again.
"I watched my parents suffer for months. They got sick and they were in pain and they were dying and no-one could do anything. I bathed them and I fed them and I watched them bleed and wheeze and fade away right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything. I just. That's why…"
He swallows and shakes his head and there is a short silence before Doojoon says, softly and simply, "Okay."
When Junhyung finally looks up Doojoon is giving him a small smile, understanding and kind and not pitying in the slightest, and he wraps an arm around Junhyung's shoulders as they turn and head for the kitchen. Junhyung is so, so grateful, and he feels so much lighter and he squeezes back, bringing their bodies close for a moment. As soon as they step into the kitchen he lets go to greet Dongwoon with an awkward one-armed hug and he claps Hyunseung on the back, genuinely glad to see them. They're organizing the supplies they scraped together-in reality they're meagre at best, but to Junhyung it seems like a feast-and Kikwang asks him to please get some firewood from outside.
He nods, his mood too good to bicker about anything, and heads outside.
The first thing he notices is the sky-it's grey, as always, but the clouds look different, lower and heavier somehow. And then he realizes the air is different, too. It smells strange, electric, and there's something familiar about it that lingers on the edges of his memory.
When he puts the two together, it's almost too ridiculous to believe.
"Shit," he breathes, reaching out blindly to open the door again. "Doojoon. Doojoon!"
"What?" Doojoon skids into the hallway, munching on something, and Junhyung would scold him about starting before everyone else if there weren't something so crazy happening at this very second.
"Get out here," Junhyung commands, "get everyone out here."
It must be the combination of his tone and expression that has Doojoon doing so immediately, and it takes him less than a minute to shepherd everyone in the kitchen out. They all gather around Junhyung, Hyunseung looking particularly disgruntled, but then Junhyung points up and all they can do is stare is stare in silence.
"The sky," someone says finally, voice wavering in reverence, and they all turn to see Yoseob standing in the doorway, blanket around his shoulders, face tilted up. Junhyung is itching to tell him to get back inside, to look after himself, he's still sick, but he ends up keeping silent, and no-one stops Yoseob as he pushes past them and into the street, standing closer to the road.
They're all daring to hope.
Yoseob's only been standing there a few moments when he starts in shock and Junhyung makes his feet move and rushes over to him but Yoseob just presses a hand to his face and then holds it up and even the others can tell that it's wet.
Yoseob turns to Junhyung, eyes large and mouth curved up higher than he's ever seen it, and Junhyung feels his heartbeat immediately start to quicken, because the possibility of what this might mean is just-
"It's rain," Yoseob breathes. "Rain."
"Ssh," Hyunseung hisses, staring up at the sky, and for a moment they're all silent again, waiting. Excitement simmers in the air but Junhyung won't let himself get caught up in it, he can't, not yet, not until he knows for sure, not until-
"Gah!" Dongwoon yelps and jumps, pressing his palm to his nose in amazement. "I felt it! I felt a raindrop! I-"
"I felt it too!" Kikwang grins ecstatically at them all, spreading his arms wide, and all at once those four raindrops turn into four more, and then eight more, and then twelve more and Junhyung can see them fall, feel them, hear them, and then they're everything, obscuring his senses, slicing through the air to spot the ground.
Junhyung finds himself looking down, watching in a daze as the ground darkens, water quickly gathering in the grooves on the road and then overflowing, months of dirt and blood and grime being washed away forever.
A hand clamps onto his arm and he looks up and everything filters back in: Hyunseung twirling and Kikwang jumping, both shirtless, enraptured and irrepressible; Yoseob opening his mouth wide, letting it fill to overflowing before gulping down, pausing only to whoop in delight; Dongwoon running his fingers through his hair, scrubbing at his skin, the first shower he's felt in far too long. Doojoon's hand tightens and Junhyung looks at him, blinking droplets from his eyelashes. Doojoon's hair is plastered to his head unattractively and there's water dripping out of his nose and into his mouth but it doesn't matter, it's never mattered less, because he's smiling, beaming, wide and hopeful. He leans in and presses his lips to Junhyung's, licking the water from his top lip and Junhyung closes his eyes and-
And Junhyung finally lets himself feel.
*
He can breathe again.
*