Crisis
Crisis
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Slight BangHim
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys... Not even a little bit...
Summary: Yongguk started this rebellion, and now he's ending it. Inspired from the BADMAN MV
A/N: LJ has been messing with my formatting again... I seriously had to mess with this for an hour for it to come out right. Anyway, I wrote this the night the BADMAN MV came out but went on vacation a couple days later and then had to move into my college apartment right after, so it's been a bit delayed in coming.
Cross-posted at my tumblr here.
259… 3,077… 563…
Yongguk has these numbers memorized. They haunt him from when he wakes up to when sleep forces his eyes closed, echo with every step down cracked tiled hallways, strangle him when he tries to stay strong. He walks a careful tightrope between dangerously cracked and completely stable. It’s a position only he can pull off, especially when so many people place their desperation on his shoulders and expect him to carry them all. But it’s a role he accepts willingly, almost desperately; he started this, it’s what he wanted…
259… 3,077… 563…
The sound of the door slamming open jars Yongguk from his thoughts before a thick manila envelope is slapped on the unstable wooden table in front of him. Yongguk slowly looks up.
“Youngjae spent the night compiling data on all potential threats. He nearly caused the servers to crash,” Himchan states. He sits himself down on the lumpy sofa, cringing a bit before shifting to make himself comfortable. Yongguk wonders if Himchan knows how tired he looks. No doubt he’s been staying up late on patrols again. Between the two of them, Himchan’s the one who gets wrapped up in thoughts and lets them tie him down until he’s frantically looking for a way out. His tendency to run himself into the dirt worries Yongguk more than any potential threat, but god forbid he should ever mention it. Yongguk likes having the use of his fingers, and he’d rather keep them attached to his hands.
“We can’t afford to lose our network now. He should’ve been more careful.” Yongguk reaches for the envelope, muscles creaking in protest. It’s thick and heavy, and Yongguk nearly drops it.
“I have no doubt he was careful.”
Yongguk tears his eyes from the envelope. Himchan’s lips press tightly together in a grim expression that has Yongguk’s heart plummeting.
“They’re onto us.”
Yongguk rubs a hand over forehead. They’re nowhere near prepared for any kind of confrontation.
259… 3,077… 563…
“What’s the damage?” Yongguk asks.
“It was some kind of program designed to respond instantaneously to any hacking attempt. Youngjae caught it before it got too deep into us, but they know our location. I have Jongup setting a perimeter and monitoring their movement. We’ll get some kind of warning before they get too close,” Himchan explains. He leans forward, rubbing his temples in a show of irritation. “We should consider relocating.”
“I don't know whether or not we should move. I think the worst thing we could do is spread ourselves too thin,” Yongguk considers. They don't have the resources to split their people between hideouts. It’s too critical a time, especially when they’re so close…
“So then we’re stuck? End of the line? You know it’s game over if they catch us here.” Himchan looks up, eyes boring into Yongguk, searching for some kind of miracle answer. It’s almost accusatory the way Himchan looks at him. He should have thought of this, should’ve been prepared, should’ve… should’ve…
“What do you want me to say? We don’t have time. They’ll get here within the week I guarantee it. We start moving now we will sitting ducks for whatever weaponry they’re packing.” Yongguk gets up. He paces across the room, staring at the crumbling walls of the room.
They’d taken up residence in this abandoned building on the outskirts of the Outer Ring. It had served as their home for the year they’d been fighting the Inner Sanctum, battle by battle, riot by riot, protest by protest. In a way it’s just like them: collapsing to pieces, beaten and broken but still quietly standing. But, they didn’t want to be quiet anymore. They were just so tired of living like dirt underneath well-cleaned shoes. It was suffocating, inhumane, and absolutely horrifying the extent to which the Inner Sanctum would go to keep them in their rusting cages. They were just so tired…
259… 3,077… 563…
“We’ve got no choice. We’re taking the fight to them.” Yongguk grabs the envelope Himchan brought him. He pulls out a thick packet of papers and begins rifling through them. “Are Daehyun and Junhong in place?”
“Have been for months now.” Himchan furrows his eyebrows.
“Good. Get them copies of this list. Tell them to knock out as many as possible, aiming for the most dangerous threats. This is it.” Yongguk points at the papers. Himchan’s eyes widen. He shoots up from his seat, clearly unimpressed.
“’This is it’? Are you serious Bang? You’re going to get them killed!”
“So what do you propose? We wait? Let them get here and blow the place sky high? We have the home advantage, but that doesn’t mean jack shit if we let them corner us. We have to frazzle them. Decrease their power in anyway we can, and it all starts with this list.” Yongguk watches as Himchan deflates slightly. The hopelessness of the situation is beginning to settle over them both. Silently walking until he’s in front of Himchan, he places a hand on the other’s shoulder, letting it migrate to the junction where neck meets shoulder. Squeezing lightly, he sighs.
“It’s risky… Hell it’s bat shit insane, but this is what we signed up for when we… when I started this. And now I’m ending it. I’m going to give these people the happy ending they deserve, the happy ending they fought for. Even if I don’t make it out, they will.”
Himchan scoffs. “Please Bang, cut the martyr act, you’re giving me a headache.” He shakes off Yongguk’s hand with a roll of his eyes. “You’d better not get them killed. Because not even winning this godforsaken war will make me forgive you. I don’t care if this is a one way trip for me, but dammit those kids had better damn well survive.” Turning to leave, he pauses for a moment. He doesn't speak, letting the silence roll over them like waves.
“But if… if we don’t make it out of this… I’m glad we went through this together.”
Yongguk smiles at the almost shy tone in Himchan’s voice.
“Are we having a moment, Himchan?”
“Fuck off Bang. You wish.”
Yongguk is left with a smile pushing its way onto his face. It’s an almost foreign stretch of muscles on his lips that feels wrong and leaves too quickly to be recognizable. It’s almost over. He doesn’t know how it’s going to end, and Yongguk would pay to be able to read the future right now… Anything to give him a fighting edge. But there are things that Yongguk does know, things that he can’t forget.
259… 3,077… 563…
The 259 people who have already died in any number of gruesome ways.
The 3,077 people they are going to be desperately struggling against.
The 563 people who are desperate enough to do anything for a chance at freedom, even fighting an impossible war.
What kind of price will he have to pay before he can stop praying he’ll live to see the end?
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Slight BangHim
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys... Not even a little bit...
Summary: Yongguk started this rebellion, and now he's ending it. Inspired from the BADMAN MV
A/N: LJ has been messing with my formatting again... I seriously had to mess with this for an hour for it to come out right. Anyway, I wrote this the night the BADMAN MV came out but went on vacation a couple days later and then had to move into my college apartment right after, so it's been a bit delayed in coming.
Cross-posted at my tumblr here.
259… 3,077… 563…
Yongguk has these numbers memorized. They haunt him from when he wakes up to when sleep forces his eyes closed, echo with every step down cracked tiled hallways, strangle him when he tries to stay strong. He walks a careful tightrope between dangerously cracked and completely stable. It’s a position only he can pull off, especially when so many people place their desperation on his shoulders and expect him to carry them all. But it’s a role he accepts willingly, almost desperately; he started this, it’s what he wanted…
259… 3,077… 563…
The sound of the door slamming open jars Yongguk from his thoughts before a thick manila envelope is slapped on the unstable wooden table in front of him. Yongguk slowly looks up.
“Youngjae spent the night compiling data on all potential threats. He nearly caused the servers to crash,” Himchan states. He sits himself down on the lumpy sofa, cringing a bit before shifting to make himself comfortable. Yongguk wonders if Himchan knows how tired he looks. No doubt he’s been staying up late on patrols again. Between the two of them, Himchan’s the one who gets wrapped up in thoughts and lets them tie him down until he’s frantically looking for a way out. His tendency to run himself into the dirt worries Yongguk more than any potential threat, but god forbid he should ever mention it. Yongguk likes having the use of his fingers, and he’d rather keep them attached to his hands.
“We can’t afford to lose our network now. He should’ve been more careful.” Yongguk reaches for the envelope, muscles creaking in protest. It’s thick and heavy, and Yongguk nearly drops it.
“I have no doubt he was careful.”
Yongguk tears his eyes from the envelope. Himchan’s lips press tightly together in a grim expression that has Yongguk’s heart plummeting.
“They’re onto us.”
Yongguk rubs a hand over forehead. They’re nowhere near prepared for any kind of confrontation.
259… 3,077… 563…
“What’s the damage?” Yongguk asks.
“It was some kind of program designed to respond instantaneously to any hacking attempt. Youngjae caught it before it got too deep into us, but they know our location. I have Jongup setting a perimeter and monitoring their movement. We’ll get some kind of warning before they get too close,” Himchan explains. He leans forward, rubbing his temples in a show of irritation. “We should consider relocating.”
“I don't know whether or not we should move. I think the worst thing we could do is spread ourselves too thin,” Yongguk considers. They don't have the resources to split their people between hideouts. It’s too critical a time, especially when they’re so close…
“So then we’re stuck? End of the line? You know it’s game over if they catch us here.” Himchan looks up, eyes boring into Yongguk, searching for some kind of miracle answer. It’s almost accusatory the way Himchan looks at him. He should have thought of this, should’ve been prepared, should’ve… should’ve…
“What do you want me to say? We don’t have time. They’ll get here within the week I guarantee it. We start moving now we will sitting ducks for whatever weaponry they’re packing.” Yongguk gets up. He paces across the room, staring at the crumbling walls of the room.
They’d taken up residence in this abandoned building on the outskirts of the Outer Ring. It had served as their home for the year they’d been fighting the Inner Sanctum, battle by battle, riot by riot, protest by protest. In a way it’s just like them: collapsing to pieces, beaten and broken but still quietly standing. But, they didn’t want to be quiet anymore. They were just so tired of living like dirt underneath well-cleaned shoes. It was suffocating, inhumane, and absolutely horrifying the extent to which the Inner Sanctum would go to keep them in their rusting cages. They were just so tired…
259… 3,077… 563…
“We’ve got no choice. We’re taking the fight to them.” Yongguk grabs the envelope Himchan brought him. He pulls out a thick packet of papers and begins rifling through them. “Are Daehyun and Junhong in place?”
“Have been for months now.” Himchan furrows his eyebrows.
“Good. Get them copies of this list. Tell them to knock out as many as possible, aiming for the most dangerous threats. This is it.” Yongguk points at the papers. Himchan’s eyes widen. He shoots up from his seat, clearly unimpressed.
“’This is it’? Are you serious Bang? You’re going to get them killed!”
“So what do you propose? We wait? Let them get here and blow the place sky high? We have the home advantage, but that doesn’t mean jack shit if we let them corner us. We have to frazzle them. Decrease their power in anyway we can, and it all starts with this list.” Yongguk watches as Himchan deflates slightly. The hopelessness of the situation is beginning to settle over them both. Silently walking until he’s in front of Himchan, he places a hand on the other’s shoulder, letting it migrate to the junction where neck meets shoulder. Squeezing lightly, he sighs.
“It’s risky… Hell it’s bat shit insane, but this is what we signed up for when we… when I started this. And now I’m ending it. I’m going to give these people the happy ending they deserve, the happy ending they fought for. Even if I don’t make it out, they will.”
Himchan scoffs. “Please Bang, cut the martyr act, you’re giving me a headache.” He shakes off Yongguk’s hand with a roll of his eyes. “You’d better not get them killed. Because not even winning this godforsaken war will make me forgive you. I don’t care if this is a one way trip for me, but dammit those kids had better damn well survive.” Turning to leave, he pauses for a moment. He doesn't speak, letting the silence roll over them like waves.
“But if… if we don’t make it out of this… I’m glad we went through this together.”
Yongguk smiles at the almost shy tone in Himchan’s voice.
“Are we having a moment, Himchan?”
“Fuck off Bang. You wish.”
Yongguk is left with a smile pushing its way onto his face. It’s an almost foreign stretch of muscles on his lips that feels wrong and leaves too quickly to be recognizable. It’s almost over. He doesn’t know how it’s going to end, and Yongguk would pay to be able to read the future right now… Anything to give him a fighting edge. But there are things that Yongguk does know, things that he can’t forget.
259… 3,077… 563…
The 259 people who have already died in any number of gruesome ways.
The 3,077 people they are going to be desperately struggling against.
The 563 people who are desperate enough to do anything for a chance at freedom, even fighting an impossible war.
What kind of price will he have to pay before he can stop praying he’ll live to see the end?