tell me, would you kill to save a life ; 8/14

[januarys_lovers]

The Bottoms, as a name, doesn't appear on any map. The island's real name has long been forgotten though, probably because it was something hopeful or poetic, something that didn't fit the harsh reality lurking in the Bottoms's streets. The island is smaller than Port Ville, and is connected to the shores by three long bridges, each one wide enough to handle the daily morning traffic. On the paper, it's a nice place to live, because it's far from the City where life gets noisy and unhealthy, because it's far from the docks, and because the island situation gives a more exotic vibe compared to the residential areas where everything is neatly aligned. On the paper, it's also a nice place to buy as the housing market is clearly more affordable than on the shore. When you look away from the paper though, you get the truth about the Bottoms, about its dangerous streets and its lethal drug problems. The Bottoms are connected to the shores by three long bridges, each one wide enough to handle to daily morning traffic, but when you live there, there are no exit doors, no easy way out.

“Are we really going to do this?” Dahye whispers on Jongdae's right.

He glances at her and draws back his focus on the huge ship blocking the horizon a few feet ahead of them. Colourful containers are piled on the deck, looking much smaller than they are supposed to, and the dozens of men boarding hardly look like sailors. Jongdae's eyes jump from one gun to the other, from bulletproof jackets to grenades and knifes, and his stomach gives a twist. He can hear the chatter mixing into one huge hustle, but the general tone of it gives him the creeps. Those are mercenaries, killers and heartless people.

He turns his head towards Dahye and she looks back at him, her eyes so deep under the mask she's wearing. She spent the day at the police station as Jang Dahye to help the bomb-disposal teams until she was sent away by Commissioner Do himself - whose already white complexion had never been paler. Jongdae was out in the street, as everything but Jongdae, trying to help as much as he could as well. They both had the whole day to reconsider this, but Jongdae knows they feel the same way. Their help is much more needed on that God-forsaken island, and now that they get a behind-the-scene glimpse on what's about to swoop down on the people of the Bottoms, it's even clearer.

“Of course we are,” Dahye says, her tone aiming for teasing but ending up sounding more resolved.

Jongdae nods and makes to step out of the darkness they were both hiding in, but Dahye stops him. He looks back at her, surprised, and she flashes him a little smile before she adjusts the hood on his head. The cape undulates slightly under her touch, and it falls back all over his body, covering him from his head to his toes.

“Those are mercenaries,” Dahye tells him. “You want to look as threatening as you can.”

Jongdae snorts while she fixes her own cape. He catches the slight bump of her hands hovering over her belt under the dark purple fabric and it makes him even more nervous. He gathers his own power, and lets it bloom right under his skin, ready to blow up at the slightest touch. They exchange a look and Dahye nods.

They leave their safe spot between two warehouses together, their soles crashing against the wet concrete in perfect harmony. It doesn't take long for the first mercenaries to see them, and they freeze on the spot, hands clenching on their guns. A low whisper arises above the mingling of conversations, and this time, Jongdae does catch a few things, mostly his and Dahye's aliases. Yesterday, they would have been fighting them. Yesterday, Jongdae would have gone to great ends to stop all those ruthless killers. But yesterday, he was still investigating on Thorne and the hooded man, and the Bottoms, although as hellish a place as always, were still free. He thought he had learned the lesson five years ago but here he is once again, somehow marvelling at how a few hours only can turn the world upside down.

Dahye tenses next to him as mercenaries wave at her, some of them catcalling, other just throwing dirty words, and Jongdae himself feels his own temper rise dangerously close to the surface. Lexie's men have spread out on each side of the dock, thus opening them a road to the ship, but the gangway looks so far. Lexie is nowhere in sight, but he doesn't doubt that she is watching. She enjoys scheming just as must as she likes performing, and the theatricality laced over Jongdae and Dahye's entrance is far from a coincidence. Rolling out a red carpet would have been less obvious.

Baekhyun appears at the top of the gangway, and silence immediately falls over the troop. Lexie's assassin differs from the mercenaries now watching him with a certain uneasiness in their eyes for he doesn't wear guns or bulletproof jacket. He is the same as always, broad and imposing, intimidating even in his plain suit, and scary enough to make all those grown-up seasoned killers hurry back to their business without having to ask. His eyes stop on Jongdae and Dahye, and his mouth twitches as though refraining a smile. Dahye sighs next to Jongdae.

“Come on,” he tells her as comforting as he can. “Let's go.”

Jongdae takes another look at the soldiers boarding through another gangway before he walks up the one at his feet. Baekhyun's eyes never leave him as he gets closer and closer, and the twitch of his lips grows more obvious, although it never turns into a full smile.

“Mrs. Wright would like to apologize,” Baekhyun says with a slight nod when Jongdae and Dahye reach him. “For what just happened. She doesn't condone that sort of prehistoric behaviour, and hopes that your deal with her is still on.”

Jongdae's eyes narrow at Baekhyun. He hears his breath loud and clear, he hears his heart beating calmly in his chest, and he hears the ruckus around them. Stronger than that though, he hears the earpiece buzzing in Baekhyun's ear, the waves slow and peaceful as no one talked to Baekhyun yet. Jongdae doesn't question the truthfulness of his words though.

“Of course,” Jongdae answers as neutrally as he can.

This time, Baekhyun's lips stretch, and a pleased smile blooms on his face. He snaps his fingers, and a dozen of armed men rush to him.

“They will be taking you to the part of the deck where you'll have to stay during the crossing, and they'll make sure no one bothers you again.” They'll tell us if you do as much as look too closely around you, Baekhyun's eyes tell, without him even trying to hide it. “We'll be leaving shortly now.”

He bows, back muscles rolling under his jacket, and glances at the armed men before turning on his heels and walking away. The men close in around Jongdae and Dahye in a perfect circle, their hands so obviously sliding on their machine guns. Dahye glances at Jongdae, her eyes a mix of reproach and regret, but she keeps quiet, and they follow the other men to the other side of the deck. The horizon is flat and wide on that side of the ship, the ocean calmly catching the last hints of orange shooting across the sky and making them undulate on the water. It looks almost peaceful, almost beautiful, but also desperate as the first stretch of darkness crawls from the heavy clouds above their heads. The Bottoms stand tall against the horizon, broken fractured lines pathetically trying to reach the sky, and shadows already stretched all over the tortured relief.

“I don't like this at all,” Dahye whispers as the men stop in a semi-circle to keep them against the railing.

“I know,” Jongdae says.

Neither does he, but Thorne has an iron hand closed around the Bottoms, and another gang war is about to erupt. Lexie is their only chance to make a difference.

The ship's engines roar in the night, and Jongdae glances over his shoulder to see people hurrying on the deck. He can hear dozens of soles crashing against the wet dirty surface, and he wonders how many mercenaries she has gathered. The water splashes beneath them, the sound thick and repetitive as the ship starts moving. There's so much noise around them that it raises thick high walls in Jongdae's mind, but he still expands his hearing, forcing his way between the talks and earpieces buzzing. He needs to know if Sehun is on board, if his cold, regular heart is beating somewhere on that boat, he needs to see him just as much as he wishes he wouldn't. He can taste the gasoline burning in the engines on his tongue, the saltiness of the sea is sticking to his face, and Jongdae is starting to think irony is having a lot of fun with him these days.

(Does Sehun think about him too?)

“So.” Dahye says. “Let's go over our plan again, would you?”

Jongdae nods and pushes every Sehun related thoughts away.

“The top priority are the hostages, and the people living in the Bottoms obviously.”

Dahye hums. “So we should look for the hostages while making sure no one get hurt?”

“Yeah. Once the hostages are safe, we get in touch with Insung and have him send backup.”

“Discreet backup though,” Dahye muses. “We don't want Thorne blowing up Port Ville while we clean his mess in the Bottoms.”

Jongdae nods. He wasn't Alpha when the last gang war took over Port Ville, but he remembers the fear, the death toll, he remembers his parents being too scared to let him go to school. His first impulse would be to stay on the streets and help, but getting more help on the island is more important. That will actually help protect the people. He squirms, and the fabric of his costume squeaks. There's a knot in his stomach, and a shallow feeling in his chest.

“Don't worry,” Dahye whispers. “Everything will be fine.”

She has dropped the reproach, and her voice is now soft and soothing. Jongdae glances at her, and she answers his stare with her usual comforting eyes.

“We find where most of Thorne's troops are. That's where the hostages will be. Once they are safe and sound, we take care of Thorne,” he says.

“Preferably before Sehun.”

Jongdae snorts. Preferably, yes.

Next to him, Dahye sighs again. She clenches her fingers on the railing and leans over it to glance at the dark waters undulating beneath them. The island isn't that far from the shores, but he's pretty sure Lexie won't have them disembark in the main port, which means that they'll probably bypass the Bottoms to reach some secured secret port on the other side. Still, the crossing shouldn't take more than half an hour.

Dahye sits against the railing next to him, and he hears her knees crack. Jongdae glances at the darkness coming from the depth and now spreading over the surface of the ocean. The sight is mesmerizing and hypnotizing; it sucks in Jongdae's thoughts until his mind is filled with flashes of legendary sea creatures, ethereal mermaids with sharp claws and whales made of light only. The wind, the waves, even the engines, are soothing, and his body relaxes inch by inch. It's been twenty-four hours since the last time they slept, and the slow rocking of the boat under the feet is the closest they'll be to a nap tonight. He just hopes he'll be able to maintain a certain control over his abilities.

“Hey,” Dahye calls him out.

She tugs at his cape, breaking him out of his reverie. He looks at her, questioning, but she nods at the other side of the deck in front of her. Following her gaze, Jongdae freezes upon seeing a familiar dark silhouette, face hidden under a hood and a mask, gracefully perched on the railing and insensible to the rocking. Lexie and Baekhyun are both standing next to Sehun, five armed men behind them.

“What are they talking about?”

Dahye doesn't need to ask, because Jongdae has already thrown every hint of power across the deck. He dodges any interferences, on the lookout for an anchor, anything that will keep him pinned to the conversation he wants to eavesdrop. He finds it in a slow, cold rhythm and a deep, regular breathing. His own breath hitches as Sehun's presence fills his mind, so overwhelming yet so far.

“If you do find Thorne before us, I want a proof that he's dead. You'll be generously paid,” Lexie's voice says in a business-like tone.

“You'll have his body, and I'll get to keep his head,” Sehun answers. Jongdae's heart speeds up in his chest as he guesses the soft thud of Sehun's lips closing then opening on plosive sounds, the discreet rasp of his tongue behind his teeth and the low vibrations of his vocal chords. “I don't care about your money.”

Lexie's chuckle is crystalline, playful, and layered on so many levels that Jongdae isn't even sure if it's amused or not.

“Rewards aren't just about money, dear Mr. Hood. But we'll see after you killed the bastard.”

“I guess we will,” Sehun answers in what looks very much like a promise. It draws out another chuckle from Lexie. She doesn't need a super hearing to make out the threat lurking in Sehun's words, and it obviously amuses her to no end.

“Very well, very well,” she says lightly. “I'll leave you to your intense sulking then. My men here will make sure you stay safe until we reach the Bottoms.”

Baekhyun glances at the armed men. They immediately deploy around Sehun, their formation a perfect mirror of the one currently trapping Jongdae and Dahye. Although Jongdae's eyes mostly remain on Sehun, he doesn't fail to notice the obvious nervousness of some of them as their hands clench tighter on their guns or their constant glances at Sehun. The shadow under the latter's hood gets thicker and thicker as the day dies away around them, but even featureless, his eyes are heavy and tangible. Jongdae watches him as he tilts his head towards the mercenaries, sleek and graceful body undulating in thin air like a snake when he slowly puts his feet on the deck. Lexie and Baekhyun walk away, and Sehun sits down, his position mirroring Dahye's current one. And he looks up.

Jongdae's breath hitches. He feels them, those onyx coloured eyes that kept him awake for five years, and made him drown in affection before that. They're sliding on his body, piercing the vinyl of his costume, leaving bruises on his skin. The rest of the world fades away as Jongdae's whole conscience is drawn to Sehun, but he feels too much, even for Jongdae's mind. Dozens of memories and thoughts come back to him and blur the edges of Sehun's silhouette. The longer Sehun stares back, the harder it is to blink.

“Sit down,” Dahye whispers somewhere next to Jongdae.

She grabs his wrist and forces him down, but Jongdae keeps his eyes on Sehun - and he knows the latter keeps looking at him as well. He wonders how angry Sehun really is and how much of him has changed. He wonders, as painful as it is, what Sehun thought in the last moments of his life, and what he thought when he realized he was granted more time. He can only speculate about what really happened that night, but in every version, Sehun chokes on blood and melts in the fire. Him being alive doesn't change a thing, because Jongdae knows better than anyone that healing from the deepest wounds doesn't mean they don't come with pain. He wonders if it was the same kind of pain for him, the sharp, icy one, or if Sehun's pain was more like a burn, red on the outside and still eating his flesh on the inside. He wonders if that is what the voices Sehun seems to be hearing are made of. Crazy, burning pain.

But mostly, he wonders what Sehun is thinking as they stare at each other.

Mercenaries start filling the deck a while later, and Sehun becomes a puzzle whose pieces are cut by legs and bodies who walk between Jongdae and him. The last thirty minutes have thrown a heavy darkness around them and it gives Sehun a fantastic vibe, as though he was more shadow than man. He makes the growing number of armed men around him jittery and several of them step away, the arsenal they're carrying clinking as they do. Jongdae can't let go though, and Sehun doesn't seem to want to look away either. Until, at least, the lights on the ship all go out at the same time and everything disappears for a fleeting second.

It takes Jongdae a heartbeat to get used to the night now surrounding them. He blinks, confused, but quickly realizes that real darkness is now filling Sehun's spot on the other side of the deck. The engines huff heavily beneath them, and the ship starts slowing down, the drop in its speed seizing Jongdae's insides.

“Where is he?” Dahye says.

“Who knows,” Jongdae whispers as he pulls himself up using the railing.

The Bottoms are getting closer and closer, the island's relief hovering over them in threatening shadows. Narrowing his eyes at the night, Jongdae realizes that he was right about Lexie avoiding the main port but it really is no surprise. He looks up at the broken city watching them, and his body tenses while he tries to make out any scream or possible gunfire, but aside from the water, the boat, and the mercenaries getting ready to disembark, everything is utter silence. It's not peaceful though - peaceful does not exist here - but rather threatening, and almost like a bad omen.

“I don't like this at all,” Dahye mumbles after she takes a look at the Bottoms too.

Jongdae catches her fingers clenching on the railing, and he feels his own blood pressure rising. The fact that they're about to enter the Bottoms along with a good hundred of mercenaries doesn't help him relax, but what was true earlier still is now: there are people here that will need their help.

“Okay,” he whispers as the boat parks along the edge of the docks. “Find the hostages. Contact Insung and find Thorne,” he recites.

The engines stop altogether, and the silence fills Jongdae's eardrums in unpleasant thickness. For a second, everything is still and quiet, from the city to the mercenaries behind them, then it all starts moving again. Gangways are set between the docks and the ship, and soles crash against the deck as everyone gets in position. About a hundred of earpieces start buzzing at the same time, vomiting waves that pierce Jongdae's mind and make him wince.

“Alright,” Lexie's voice says in his mind as clearly as it echoes in the mercenaries' ears. “End of the line, all change please. You all know what you have to do, so get to it.”

Jongdae looks behind him with a grimace as the mercenaries hurry to the gangways. They swoop down on the docks, waves of heavily armed men vomiting on the dirty grounds in a noisy mess of soles and weapons clicking. His instincts keep urging him to do something, but he agreed to this when he made his deal with Lexie, and now that he's witnessing her army deploy under him, he can't help but feel like this was her biggest reason to offer him a way in. He would have done anything to stop her otherwise, and she knew it. Frustration swells in his chest as he glances at his special bodyguards still blocking him and Dahye on the deck. The mercenaries who were guarding Sehun have already left the ship. Lexie wouldn't have tried to stop Sehun anyway. Jongdae's blood starts boiling in his veins.

He looks away from the mercenaries on the docks and walks up to one of those guarding him and Dahye.

“Let us go,” he threatens between gritted teeth.

He catches the man's black eyes nervously lower to his hands, and Jongdae's power answers to it. The electricity rushes to his fingers, and his body starts feeling more like a bundle of nerve endings than actual flesh. Under his mask, his eyes narrow at the mercenary, who glances at his partners.

“Well, we - we can't. Mrs. Wright's orders were to -”

“Order is such a big word,” Lexie's cheerful voice interrupts.

Jongdae looks away from the mercenary's face only to meet Lexie's azure eyes taking him in with intensity and mischief. Her red eyeliner has been taken away by the night and the lack of light, and it now looks like a sharp claw spurting out of the outer corners of her eyes. She stops in front of Jongdae, much closer than anyone would have dared to, and Jongdae feels his own face heat with anger.

“I just wanted to make sure nothing bad happened. Some of those men really don't like you.”

Jongdae opens his mouth, but Dahye stops him by stepping up.

“We need to go now,” she says in a strong voice.

Lexie smiles and gestures at the closest gangway. Behind her, Baekhyun's face remains closed and indifferent. Jongdae looks away, drawing his attention on the gangway. The mercenaries are still around him and Dahye, and he feels even more aware of the arsenal each of them is wearing.

He nods towards Dahye, and they walk away from Lexie. The mercenaries left on the deck all step away upon seeing them, some of them pulling their arms away so fast that Jongdae hears their joints crack. He almost regrets the suffocating silence of the Bottoms now that the ruckus going on around him blocks his senses. When they finally walk down the wooden gangway and he fully realizes how many men Lexie took with her, the proximity of so many weapons does nothing to help. He catches so many hands clench around guns, slide into stuffed pockets or close around knives and grenades when he and Dahye walk by, and the only thing stopping those calloused fingers might the device softly buzzing in their owners's ears.

“Let's get the hell away from here as fast as possible,” Dahye says in a low whisper.

He nods shortly and gestures at a thick patch of darkness stretching between two high containers on the edge of what is already looking like Lexie's new headquarters. The fastest they'll be out of her henchmen's sight, the better. immediately speeds up when she picks up on Jongdae's gesture. With another glance over his shoulder, he falls into step behind her. He hears dozens of hearts beating in a thick cacophony around him, and he desperately tries to find his way in. He tries to untangle the knot of lungs swelling and blood pulsing so that he could pick up a hint of Sehun somewhere, but his only result comes in the form of burning needles boring in his temples. His mind draws a precise image of what is going on around him, the earpieces reverberating inside him, and the radio frequency they're using as a whirling thread jumping from one to the other. Jongdae mentally wraps himself around it while his eyes stayed glued to Dahye's cape swelling a few steps ahead of him. He knows Sehun is probably already far, but if there's the slightest chance of him still being around...

Jongdae's conscience crashes against what feels like a wall for his body. Staggering, he comes to a halt, reaches out and closes his fist on Dahye's cape. She looks around, surprised. Once again, Jongdae's mental vision drowns in a buzzing chaos, a knot of statics and screeching electricity, but this time, he knows exactly why. His breath catching in the back of his throat, he looks back as his conscience jumps from the frequency used by Lexie’s men to the second one he just picked up.

“Someone’s coming -” he begins, but the sudden explosion of gunfire steals the rest of his sentence.

Jongdae immediately lets go of unknown radio frequency and he whirls around in a blink of an eye, his muscles tensing and ready to propel him towards Lexie's men. Something fast and dark runs past him, shoves him away and grabs Dahye by the wrist. She yelps as Sehun pulls her towards the containers. His scent fills Jongdae's nose, invades his lungs, and it takes him half a second to get a grip on himself. He sets off in pursuit of Sehun.

The latter doesn't go far though. He stops in the darkness Jongdae and Dahye wanted to go in the first place, and lets go of Dahye only when her body has been swallowed by the shadow of the high pile of containers. She watches him through her mask, the bird like shape cut for her eyes barely managing to hide how wide they are as she takes him in. He holds her gaze, his own eyes almost invisible behind his hair and under his hood. Jongdae slides to a halt when he reaches them.

“What the fuck?” he snaps, and Sehun's eyes land on him with a cold glare.

“I'm just making sure you're not going to risk her life for those scumbags.”

Sehun then eyes cautiously the distance between him and Jongdae, and after another defying look, he steps back, his brows furrowing even more. This, more than the anger and the bite in his voice, hurts Jongdae deeply.

“I was not - I'm not risking her life,” he stutters.

“Yeah? Because you weren't about to go full on superhero and save those guys? Who are, let me remind you, mercenaries. Some of them you've thrown in prison before.”

Jongdae holds Sehun's gaze, feeling his temper flare dangerously.

“Sehun,” Dahye intervenes.

“Lexie brought it upon herself when she and her boss started this war. And Thorne had it coming too. There are innocent people here, people that actually deserve to be saved. When will you understand?”

“Sehun.”

He glances at Dahye who slowly shakes her head. A few meters away from their safe spot, gunfire, screams and explosions are still raging on. Amidst the chaos, Jongdae can hear them, the hearts that stop beating, the bullets that drive so easily through flesh and bones, and the pained moans, the quiet sobs. With whatever happened to Sehun, Jongdae is sure the latter can hear them too, but as he meets the dark eyes again, Sehun doesn't even flinch nor show any concern. He would have been as horrified as Jongdae before. He would have been the first fighting his way through the blood bath to try and stop it.

“You don't understand,” Jongdae hisses between gritted teeth. “Maybe you never even did. It's not about -”

“Revenge?” Sehun groans. “No, it's about humanity and doing what's right to protect -”

Both Sehun and Jongdae freeze at the same time. This is Jongdae's proof that Sehun's hearing has indeed been improved, because the sudden tension taking over his body, muscle by muscle, leaves no room for imagination. They both heard the heavy soles getting closer.

“What?” Dahye asks, confused, and Sehun gestures her to keep quiet.

Jongdae and Sehun exchange a glance, and Dahye, immediately understanding what is going on, steps further into the darkness. Jongdae presses his back against the container's side, wincing at the low creaking sounds his costume makes. Sehun follows suit, and his shoulder bumps against Jongdae. The latter turns his head towards him while Sehun pulls away. Their eyes meet, and Sehun's irises harden. He drowns Jongdae in a patronizing glare and nods sharply towards the corner of the container. Jongdae draws back his focus on the shoes and the erratic breathing getting closer, a lump falling deep into his throat.

He feels, more than he sees, Sehun's hand slip down to the leather holster wrapped around his thigh. Jongdae holds his breath as the foreign heart beat gets closer and closer. He shuts his eyes. Just a few more steps, a few inches... He can now smell a hint of gunpowder, of sweat and the unmistakable thickness that comes with fear and tension. Whoever it is, they're tall, their shoes vibrating harder on the concrete than Dahye's or even Jongdae's, and they're holding a gun. Jongdae can hear the mechanics click with every step they're taking. His own body tenses, tighter and tighter, until he hears it; the light brushing sound of a finger hovering over a trigger. That's when he pounces out of his hiding spot.

His hands close on a jacket, and he hears the fabric crack as he pulls the man closer. He throws him against the container's side, right where he was a heartbeat earlier, and the man yelps. He raises his hands, his gun bouncing against his side, and lets out another moan when Sehun swoops down on him, perfectly synchronized with Jongdae. His body blocks the mercenary against the container and follows its curves as Sehun presses himself against the man, one of his blade already glistening against the man's Adam's apple. Jongdae sees it bob down as the man raises his hands higher, fingers shaking.

“I - I mean no harm!” the mercenary stutters.

Sehun's eyes curl up, probably matching a grin that the mask on the lower half of his face hides, and the tip of his blade follows the soft bump of the man's Adam's apple.

“Oh my God, are you fucking kidding me,” Dahye groans.

She steps closer and snatches the military cap from the man, thus freeing glaring red locks. Jongdae's heart jumps up in his throat. He grabs the man's sunglasses and throws them away before looking back and meeting Chanyeol's signature round eyes looking at him with a - well deserved - hint of fear. Sehun snorts.

“Wrong place again,” he snarls.

“Don't,” Dahye groans. She grabs Sehun by the arm and pulls him away. He slides his blade back into his holster, glances at Jongdae, and steps away from him.

“It's the second time you try to kill me,” Chanyeol says, glaring at Sehun and rubbing his throat.

“Nothing personal,” Sehun shrugs.

“What are you doing here?” Dahye says.

Chanyeol throws her a half surprised, half impressed look, and Jongdae winces. It was pretty obvious Chanyeol had guessed too much back in his hospital room earlier today, but pretending like they didn't know him still would have been a good idea. Now that Dahye pretty much confirmed his guess, he looks as intimidated as proud to have been right. His eyes take in Dahye's long cape, the dark vinyl of her costume and the French braid falling on her shoulder, and when he looks up to her, barely hiding his amazement for her mask, she clears his throat. He has to blink a few times before he remembers her question.

“I want to help,” he says, defying. He glances at Jongdae and decides to keep looking at him instead of Dahye, whose anger is obviously too tangible, too threatening. “I live here. Plus everyone in Port Ville needs to know what's happening and I know better than to trust the government to tell the story.”

Sehun snorts, but when Jongdae glances at him, there's no disdain or patronizing coldness in his eyes. They're already glued to Jongdae, and instead a strong and steel-like triumphant thickness is filling them. There's a challenge in his gaze, one that Jongdae can read easily. It was only a few hours ago after all, that Sehun pressed another blade against Chanyeol's throat, and that his voice introduced him to Jongdae. Chanyeol is one of the too few people money can't buy in this god-forsaken place. Chanyeol cares. Now, Sehun is looking at Jongdae like he was right, like he's been right about everything, and for some reasons, it just angers Jongdae so much.

“Don't look at me like that,” he hisses. “Thorne being free is completely your fault, remember? This whole mess is on you.”

This efficiently wipes the superior look off Sehun's face, and for a short second, something from another time paints his features.

“I've never wanted any innocent people to die,” he says. “And you, more than anyone else, should know it.”

Sehun's last few words knock the air out of Jongdae's lungs. He watches, taken aback, as the man in front of him holds his gaze. He's everything the Sehun Jongdae used to know wasn't; he's deathly, cold and unforgiving but despite it all, he looks so much like the boy he once was right now. His words have filled the gap between past and present, and the dangerous silhouette facing Jongdae has been inevitably linked to the boy who used to laugh in the dead of the night. The boy who, indeed, would have died to save some innocent lives. Hell, he did.

“Is there - is there somewhere safe you can stay in?” Dahye asks Chanyeol. Jongdae doesn't miss her look towards Sehun or how her hand slides closer to the latter, longing, itching. It hurts when Sehun doesn't step away. “You said you still live here. Where exactly?”

Chanyeol opens his mouth, but immediately shuts it. Something flashes through his eyes, and he straightens with a nod.

“There's a safe place, not far from here. I can take you there.”

Jongdae frowns, his attention drawn away from Dahye's new set of angry eyes and Chanyeol's gulping response by a hint of buzzing. He grabs Chanyeol by the nape and pulls him down before shoving his fingers in his ear. He pulls out a black earpiece that vibrates quietly against his palm.

“Are you part of Lexie's crew?” he asks Chanyeol, confused.

Chanyeol shrugs as he puts his hands on the gun still dangling off his shoulder.

“I just had to say I wanted to work. They don't give a fuck who dies for them. They gave me a gun, an earpiece, and pushed me on the boat.”

“You're crazy,” Dahye whispers as she takes in Chanyeol with disbelief. “Man, you do not want to mess with Lexie Wright. Stay away from her in the future.”

Chanyeol gives another shrug that has Sehun grinning harder under his mask. Jongdae and Dahye exchange a glance. He reads amusement in her eyes, despair, and a very light hint of admiration. Nothing that Jongdae feels. The earpiece is warm against his palm, but quiet, and its silence is overwhelming now that the gunfire have stopped on the docks behind them. He hears people talking, he hears soles and heartbeats, but he doesn't even want to take a look to know whose side won. It's too easy to picture the blood following the concrete's little bumps before dripping into the dark ocean waters. They need to find the hostages fast, so the PVPD can enter the island, and prevent any more blood baths, and having to take Chanyeol to safety is a huge loss of time.

Jongdae closes his fist on the earpiece, the device breaking under his strength.

“Let's go,” he says. “You go first Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol nods, then takes the lead, straight into the darkness. Dahye hastily joins him, a hand hovering over her belt, just in case. Jongdae tilts his palm and watches the earpiece falls on the ground. It has stopped buzzing, but the radio frequency it was humming still lurks in the air around him. At least he knows which side got the upper hand now. He briefly wonders, as he sets off after Dahye and Chanyeol, if Lexie had planned this sudden attack, if she knew Thorne had his men waiting for her. His thought dies away when he spots Sehun stepping away from him again and his insides squirm. He hears Sehun's slow heartbeat, the ruffling of his clothes, he can taste the familiar scent on the tip of his tongue mixed with the saltiness of the air, and it takes all his will to focus on their surroundings rather than Sehun's blood rushing through his veins.

Jongdae gets vertigo from trying to wrap his head around the fact that Sehun is here again, but in a very different way. He can feel his own mind splitting up, torn apart by the mourning he's been doing for the past five years and the relief of hearing Sehun's heart beat again, because in spite of it, he can't deny the grave is still there. He's just not sure about what's lying in it, what he has lost.

He glances at Sehun, who gives himself away by immediately looking away.

Or what they both lost.

“It's here,” Chanyeol says, pointing at a shabby looking house across the street.

Jongdae throws another cautious glance over his shoulder, at the dark alley keeping them away from the street lights, safe from any possible evil eyes. He draws back his attention on the empty street and the house Chanyeol pointed at. It's one of the many houses aligned in rows, similar from the small patch of lawn to the slightly asymmetrical windows. The only differences lay in the lack of curtains and light shimmering low on the inside. Jongdae catches so many things - so many voices and buzzing sounds, so many waves and raged whispers - that his senses have proven basically useless on their way here. It could have been a short fifteen-minute walk, but with his inability to sense anything, it took them thirty minutes. Luckily though, the streets have revealed to be quite empty until then. They're still on the edges of the island. Jongdae reckons the fight probably rages on in the centre.

Distant explosions break the fragile silence around them, and they all look on their right, as though it could tell them what's happening. There's a tangible feeling of habit lingering in the air here, something that Jongdae sadly links to the years of crime that have reigned over the Bottoms. People here know better than to go out for a stroll after the sun has dipped down under the horizon. Thorne taking over the island probably didn't cause as much panic here as it did back on the land. Doors are double-locked and families are gathered away from the windows. Jongdae hears a little girl throws a dice before a pawn is moved on a board. Free parking! I get the money!

“What are we waiting for?” Sehun hisses.

Jongdae blinks, snatching his conscience away from the ruffling of phoney banknotes. He realizes Chanyeol still has his hand raised towards the house, although the curve of his index finger isn't as optimistic and pleased as it was at first. His eyes are glued on the right, towards the explosions, and the paleness of his face stands out even in the darkness of the alley. Sehun grabs his wrist and pulls it down quite aggressively.

“We have more important things to do than babysit you,” he says. “So let's get this done.”

He steps out of the alley, which makes Dahye hiss. She reaches out, but her fingers close on thin air as Sehun is already trotting across the road.

“Se -” she starts before interrupting herself and throwing a wary look at Chanyeol.

“There's no one here!” Sehun calls out, as he hops on the pavement on the other side of the road.

He opens his arms wide on each side and turns on himself to prove his point. The family next door keeps playing Monopoly, although Jongdae catches a certain tension in the mother's voice that wasn't there before. He sighs and gestures at Dahye and Chanyeol to remain hidden before stepping out himself. He looks on his right, tries to pierce the darkness, to see further than the regular pools of light thrown on the concrete by the street lights, and does exactly the same on his left. He looks up to the roofs, squints at every dark alley, every corner, all the while feeling Sehun's eyes on him. His heart is a constant rhythm in the flow of information Jongdae receives every second.

“You don't trust me?” Sehun asks.

He's sitting on the low wall running along the pavement and separating the houses from the street, his long legs folded under him. Even from this distance, Jongdae spots the familiar curling of his eyes, and he immediately pictures the smile that goes with it. His heart leaps in his throat, and he quickly looks away.

“It's clear,” he tells Dahye.

She grabs Chanyeol by the arm and pulls him out of the alley. She looks so small next to him, which makes the way he staggers under her pull even funnier.

“There's a door on the right,” Chanyeol says when they all reach Sehun. “I have the key.”

He fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a set of keys clicking and shining under the harsh lights. Jongdae holds back a remark about how Chanyeol really shouldn't take the key of his house with him if he goes undercover because he doesn't want to make him think it's something he could do again. He must admit Chanyeol's determination is something he has to be admired for, but it unfortunately seems to go hand in hand with a misplaced naivety - which is even stranger from someone who writes such fiery, but true, articles.

Chanyeol leads them into the darkness on the side of the house, and indeed, Jongdae spots an old-looking door a few steps ahead, at the foot of a staircase. Chanyeol is the first to engage in it, the steps creaking under his shoes, immediately followed by Jongdae, Dahye and Sehun. Something clicks, and Jongdae mindlessly glances at the keys in Chanyeol's hand before he realizes it was actually a very different sort of click.

“Stop,” he breathes out as his fingers curl around Chanyeol's biceps, stopping from unlocking the door. “There's someone inside.”

Chanyeol throws him a confused look. He nods.

“I know.”

“What do you mean you -”

Chanyeol pulls away, pushes the key into the hole and turns it. The door unlocks and Chanyeol makes to step inside but Jongdae reaches out and grabs his arm. He pulls him back again and slides inside the room instead.

“Wait -” Chanyeol objects.

“Shut your cake hole, Park,” Sehun snarls somewhere at the back.

Jongdae stands at the entrance of what looks like an equipped basement. Two bare light bulbs hang from the ceiling, their pale halo of light throwing a sickish glow over the furniture filling the room. Jongdae's eyes slide on a large desk bending under the weight of three computer screens and other devices that require so many wires that the wood of the desk can hardly be seen. There's a couch in the corner, and high piles of boxes standing out in the shadows. Jongdae dismisses a wobbly table and the mess spread over it in favour of a specific corner. He steps further into the room, his eyes glued to the barely visible outline in the darkest spot of the room. The too weak light doesn't reach this far, but as something ruffles and shifts, Jongdae still catches a faint glimmer against a cold metallic surface. He braces himself.

“I know you're here,” he says.

Someone moves behind him - probably Chanyeol - but no one speaks out. Jongdae silently thanks Dahye who is probably making sure the reporter keeps quiet. Ahead of him, the shadow seems to hesitate for a short second, before it slightly deflates. It's fleeting though, because when it finally unfolds and stands up straight, Jongdae easily picks up the tension in the body walking into the light. Soft skin and taut muscles reveal themselves as two veiny hands aim at Jongdae, long fingers tightly secured around a Beretta. Dark smart brown eyes glimmering behind framed spectacles take him in, and Jongdae sees them open wide. The man shifts from an offensive position to one of sheer surprise as he raises his head and gasps at Jongdae.

“Alpha?”

His voice is low, nasal with something soft and almost shy lurking in it. Despite the gun he's still holding, it makes the man looks much younger than his height suggested at first.

“This is Kim Jongin, my roommate,” Chanyeol's voice says. He pauses, then continues. “He's a cop.”

Jongdae glances over his shoulder as Dahye pushes Chanyeol into the room, before entering herself. Sehun is the last one to step inside. He closes the door almost softly then throws a curious look around him, completely indifferent to what is going on.

“Chanyeol?” said Kim Jongin stutters, mouth agape. His eyes go from Jongdae to Dahye and back again, still opening wider and wider with every second. He's definitely younger than Chanyeol, Jongdae concludes.

Dahye steps closer and eyes Jongin. Her gaze turns sharp and she looks back at Chanyeol, shaking her head.

“No he's not,” she snaps. “He's still at the academy.”

“Wh - what? How does she know?”

Chanyeol narrows his eyes at Dahye in a wordless provocation. “Because she saw you there, duh,” he says without blinking away. “She probably gave a conference or something like that.”

Jongin watches Dahye with eyes now so wide they look like they might fall off their sockets.

“You... You're a cop?!”

Dahye eyes him for a few more seconds before she turns back to Chanyeol and hits him on the back of his head. He winces and rubs the sore spot, his expression somewhere between a pout and a triumphant grin.

“I know it because you look like you're twelve,” she tells Jongin. “And toddlers aren't allowed to play with guns.”

Jongin blushes at her remark. He hastily puts his gun in his belt, against the small of his back. Dahye exaggerated, because Jongdae can easily spots taut muscles under the loose white shirt Jongin is wearing, and he's pretty sure a toddler wouldn't be that tall. He doesn't look as tall as Chanyeol, but something about his slender body and his straight long legs make him look more imposing. One thing is for sure though, he may be friends with Chanyeol and be freaking tall like the latter, he doesn't have the same bite and challenging gleam in his eyes. It's quite the contrary actually. It takes Jongdae less than a couple of seconds to identify the pinkish blush and the numerous glances as shyness. It takes him a bit longer to realize admiration is also blooming on Jongin's face whenever his eyes fall on Dahye. (And they do it quite often.)

“What the hell is this place?” Sehun's blank voice says somewhere in the back.

Jongdae turns around only to see that the latter has moved closer to the table he so easily dismissed earlier. He is now holding an oddly familiar ball between his fingers, the metallic surface clashing with the black of Sehun's gloves. He weighs it up in his palm and looks up at Chanyeol and Jongin, eyes curling up with mirth.

“What are you?” he says, his voice loud and clear despite the mask still covering his mouth. “Fanboys or something?”

He throws the ball to Dahye, and Jongdae only realizes why it looked so familiar in the first place. Dahye's dark purple fingers close on it, and this is a sight he's seen dozens of times already. The only question left now is why do Chanyeol and Jongin have some of Dahye's smoke bombs in their basement?

Jongin rushes to Dahye's side, but he stops dead in his tracks when he enters her personal space. He glances at her, the blush on his face thickening, and shyly holds out his hand.

“It's just a prototype,” he mumbles. “Can I - can I have it back?”

Dahye gives him back the bomb with a confused look, and Jongin quietly thanks her. Jongdae draws back his attention on the table, that Sehun is now looking closely, the same eye smile plastered on his face. He shoves a hand into a box left there and Jongdae's ears fill with metallic clinking sounds. Intrigued, he steps closer and peeks inside the box as well just as Sehun pulls out another ball, this one tainted with the same dark purple shade covering Dahye's cape, gloves and mask. He looks at Jongdae in the eyes, obviously amused, and turns back his attention on Jongin and Chanyeol. Jongdae takes in the mess covering the table, the half metallic spheres, the wielding machine and the numerous printed circuit boards, mouth agape.

“Please don't - don't touch,” Jongin begs, biting his lower lip. “Most of them are very unstable...”

Sehun interrupts him with another chuckle as he pulls out a set of blades from the box. They have obviously been inspired by the ones Jongdae and Dahye wear on their belts as they are the same size. Those ones are dark purple tainted though, and they sport protuberances like wings which definitely echo to the bird-like look of Dahye's mask. Sehun plays with one of them between his fingers before throwing it towards the wall in the back. Jongdae follows its trajectory, the whistling sound it makes almost musical before it drives into the wall with a low thud.

“They're well balanced,” Sehun says. He turns towards Dahye, now grinning so widely the mask on his face is rising to his cheekbones. “You've been quite the muse, Heize.”

Dahye watches the gear spread over the table, impressed.

“Hey look at that,” Sehun snickers. He pulls out a mask from the box which, from the lack of colour and the traces left by different tools on its surface, is obviously still under construction, and throws it at Jongdae who catches it mid-air.

It doesn't need to be purple for Jongdae to guess it has been made for Dahye - for Heize, because it has the same sharp bird look her current mask has, only more advanced, more obvious. Jongdae looks up at Sehun and smiles.

“It's pretty dope,” he says and Sehun nods, chuckling.

He glances at Dahye who looks mildly embarrassed, but it's nothing compared to the burning shade of red now covering Jongin's full face, and even gnawing at the pinkness of his lips. Chanyeol steps up, his brows deeply furrowed and his eyes shooting daggers at Sehun and Jongdae.

“Don't laugh at him,” he hisses between gritted teeth.

He snatches the mask from Jongdae's hand and puts it back inside the box which he grabs and carefully puts away from Sehun's mischievous eyes. Jongdae and Sehun exchange an amused glance, a look they've shared so many times before and which comes so naturally that none of them question. Something flutters in Jongdae's chest. His eyes instinctively fall on Dahye, and warmth spread over him when he catches her smile, similar to the one he and Sehun are wearing.

“You're still smiling,” Chanyeol groans. “Be nice or we won't help you.”

This immediately wipes the grin off Sehun's face. He raises a judging eyebrow at Chanyeol.

“Help us?” he repeats. “Uh, last time I checked you were the one that needed bodyguards.”

A red light suddenly flashes in Jongdae's mind as he takes in Chanyeol's grin, and he frowns. On his right, Dahye throws the same wary look at the reporter, confirming Jongdae's fears.

“What is it again, Park?” she sighs.

Chanyeol and Jongin exchange a look. They may not have the lethal vibe that Baekhyun and Lexie have, but they obviously share a profound bound created by years of friendship too. Once again, despite all the power sleeping in his DNA, Jongdae feels like he's been cornered and played on. It has happened way too often for his liking.

“Jongin... Jongin can help you find the hostages,” Chanyeol says.

Jongdae looks at Jongin who nods but quickly stops under Jongdae's eyes.

“You think we can't?” Jongdae says. He narrows his eyes at Chanyeol and closes his face. “You think we came here with no plan at all? That we can't save those people?”

Chanyeol has at least the common sense to look slightly afraid. His triumphant self-confidence melts down, and he seems to shrivel under Jongdae's eyes, to the latter's delight.

“Of course not,” Jongin butts in. His whole body twitches when Jongdae draws his attention on him as though about to bow down, but he keeps his head high despite the blush creeping on his face again. “He just meant... I can do it in like, five minutes. So that would be quite a gain of time, wouldn't it?”

Jongdae knows, he just does, that both Jongin and Chanyeol have a bargain in mind, but he also knows that if Jongin can really live up to his words, five minutes would definitely be better than at least one hour running through the Bottoms. It could help them save more people, and the PVPD would be able to enter the Bottoms much faster. Thorne would be the only thing left on their list to cross. Port Ville could wake up in the morning with this new gang war already nothing more than a nightmare. Jongdae can't say he's not tempted, and both Jongin and Chanyeol look at him like they know, their faces hopeful and their eyes glistening with excitement. It echoes with an old memory of two kids knocking on his door, the same misplaced hope on their faces.

Hello. We know you're Alpha, and we want to help you.

Jongdae shakes himself out of the memories, a light smile threatening to break the angry face he's still flashing at Chanyeol and Jongin. He looks at Dahye, meaning to ask her, but Chanyeol, probably taking his gesture for an opening window, rushes in and speaks again.

“You know, Thorne is probably with the hostages, so it could all be over so soon.”

“Do it.”

Jongdae's heart misses a beat. He looks over at Sehun whose eyes look like two bottomless holes. The softness that had been hinted by his smiles earlier is long gone, and he now looks sharper than ever. He's cold again, dangerous and lethal, and he doesn't blink, his irises blown and fixed on Jongin. He stands in the middle of the room, scary, angry and so different.

“Do it,” Sehun repeats, almost hisses. There's an underlying threat in his intonations, one that Jongin doesn't miss, because he throws a confused glance at Dahye.

“Listen -” she starts, but Sehun shuts her with a burning glare.

“We find the hostages, we find Thorne,” Sehun says. He slightly winces, tilts his head on the side, and a frozen hand closes around Jongdae's heart. “I know,” Sehun whispers. “I won't make the same mistake twice.”

Jongdae feels so small, so helpless and useless. Sehun snickers under his mask, a distant look in his eyes, and Jongdae's conscience rushes to him. He can hear Sehun's hair rubbing against his hood, the low thud of his lashes when he blinks, the wet sound when he gulps down, but nothing else. Frustration grows in his chest, almost painful, and Jongdae's fingers twitch on thin air in response. If only he could touch Sehun and know, maybe he could make it better, maybe -

Sehun seems to snap out of his inner conversation with the madness creeping in his eyes, and his gaze falls on Jongdae's fingers. He looks up at the latter, icy rage taking over his irises, and steps away.

“How would you do it?” Dahye asks, her voice weak and unsure. She doesn't falter when Jongin draws his attention on her though, and the confusion and fear leave Jongin's face.

“Well,” he hesitates. “I kind of... already did?”

Jongdae's conscience is wrapped around Sehun, so tightly, that it takes him all his will to manage a glance towards Jongin. Thankfully, Dahye is much more attentive, so she reacts before him. Jongdae is too caught with meeting Sehun's furious eyes anyway. They're burning with the same intensity as blue flames, and piercing Jongdae's skin mercilessly.

“You did?” Dahye repeats, mouth agape.

Chanyeol shrugs, his triumphant lopsided smile making his grand return on his lips.

“He's very smart,” he brags.

“Where is he?” Sehun butts in with a snarl. He takes a first step towards Jongin.

Jongdae feels Sehun's muscles tense as though they were his, he feels the shoot of adrenaline, the burning bite of anger, and it makes his heart leap into his throat as panic swoops down on him. He refuses to let Sehun face Thorne again so he steps up and gets between him and that monster.

“What did you do?” he asks Jongin. He feels Sehun's eyes shooting daggers at him but he doesn't flinch.

Jongin glances at Chanyeol, and only breathes in when the latter flashes him a quick nod.

“Well... I... uh. I hacked into the Aldrin Enterprise satellite and used its images to know where Thorne has gathered most of his men. I reckoned the hostages would probably be watched closely...”

“Where is it?” Sehun barks.

The burst of his voice is followed by another low mumble that Jongdae doesn't catch. His senses tighten around Sehun, but he keeps his eyes on Jongin and Chanyeol. Aldrin Enterprise reigns over Port Ville with high towers and fancy security systems, and Mr. Aldrin himself, billionaire and amateur of French wines, is quite the paranoiac stereotype of men with huge bank accounts. His satellite, just like every one of his installations, is probably more protected than the President's office, so the chances that Jongin really did hack it are very low. There's something about the shy and embarrassed blush on Jongin's cheeks though, about the computers purring in the back, or the circuit boards, the tools and the wires filling the room. Something that, mixed with the pride filling Chanyeol's eyes and the smirk he's sporting, makes the whole thing much more believable. Chanyeol was the one who brought them here after all, and Jongdae is willing to admit that, despite being very difficult to shake off, Chanyeol doesn't strike as the manipulative type. He couldn't have known he'll end up bringing them to his stupid lair and his apparently very smart roommate. Jongin couldn't have known as well, so how could they have prepared a lie like this?

This is exactly what is wrong with this whole thing, Jongdae realizes. He narrows his eyes at Jongin.

“You didn't know we were coming,” he states, to which Jongin erratically nods, determined on cleaning himself from any troubles. “So why did you hack the satellite?”

Both Chanyeol dropping his smiles, and Jongin gulping then glancing at the box of Heize gadget replicas give Jongdae his answer.

“You wanted to go on your own,” he says. He glances at Dahye, who is watching both Chanyeol and Jongin like she can't believe her eyes. Once again though, Jongin and Chanyeol's silences are pretty revealing, and Jongdae shakes his head. “I can't believe it,” he sighs with disbelief.

That seems to trigger something in Jongin, and he loses his shyness for a more challenging look, one that almost overpowers the blush deepening on his cheeks.

“I'd think you, more than anyone else, would understand exactly why we were planning to do so,” he says between gritted teeth. “You may have given up after whatever happened five years ago, but we didn't, I didn't. I've spent most of my teen days admiring you two, to the point that I would spend hours in our garage trying to reproduce your gadgets, and then you disappeared. The bad guys, they didn't. And now they're attacking my home again and I won't let them push another tragedy down our throats.”

Jongdae watches, frozen, as Jongin points an angry finger at him, his brows knitted with anger.

“I will give you the address, but in exchange you'll have to let Chanyeol and I help. That is not arguable.”

Jongin adjusts his spectacles on his nose, his irises throwing a fire that surprises even Chanyeol, whose eyes bulge out as he takes in his roommate. The throbbing pain is back in Jongdae's head, the headache more powerful this time and it makes him feel so weary and worn out. He feels like he's had this talk a hundred of times already, and he doesn't even find the strength to argue. He draws back his attention on Dahye but before he can tell her anything, Sehun chuckles. It's shallow, and everything but amused. The headache lashes out against Jongdae's temples as he glances at Sehun, his heart turning to lead in his chest.

“I can't believe you're not giving him the 'it's too dangerous and you're not prepared for it' speech,” Sehun sniggers. He tilts his head to look at Jongin and Chanyeol before drawing back his attention on Jongdae. “Who cares anyway, let the kid chose what he wants to die for.”

“Let's not do this right now, please,” Jongdae says in a low voice.

Sehun shrugs, and something flashes in his eyes. Jongdae thinks he catches regrets, disappointment, and something more, but Sehun turns his head and flashes him his side view before he can dwell on it. Once again, Jongdae feels himself reaching out, his whole body answering to a quiet need, until he can taste the slight smell of leather coming from Sehun's jacket on the back of his tongue.

“Jongdae...” Dahye says in a breathless whisper, syllables barely articulated and her voice so low that Jongin and Chanyeol easily miss it.

Jongdae draws his attention on her, and the sight of her almond-shaped eyes glued to him makes him feel somewhat better. She's someone else under that cape, she has another name, another mission, but she always lays the same eyes on him. They're soft, warm and safe, so safe as they take him in, Dahye's thoughts on full display for him. She reaches out, her fingers curling in thin air as though she was already holding his hand, and Jongdae imitates her gesture. His power rushes to his fingertips, buzzes, crackles in his head, and when he closes his hand around Dahye's, it immediately runs through her ending nerves, straight to her brain.

Her inner voice fills Jongdae's mind in broken sentences that make no sense, except that they do, because he knows how she thinks, how her mind works. From the inside, she's all sparks and bluish luminescence, and she's out of time. Seconds stop as she reveals herself to him, welcomes him deeper into her head so that they can safely talk without anyone butting in. Jongdae unfolds her thoughts one by one, her logic and every reasoning literally waiting to be picked up in his palms. He watches details she picked up in the room - and that he also saw. The computers, the display of technology, even the plans and scribbled notes tacked to the wall. Then it jumps to Chanyeol and his red flaming hair, Chanyeol who doesn't give up, whether it's in his articles or in real life, and that also, Jongdae cannot argue. Jongin is the next one to come into focus, with his spectacles perched on the tip of his nose, the Beretta he's still wearing in his belt and the gadgets he built himself. They wouldn't take no for an answer, her synapses are telling Jongdae, and he agrees. He disagrees to what she offers next though, but she's just as used as him to have Jongdae wandering in her head, and she responses with a strong push, and her mental version of don't be so stubborn Jongdae. He withdraws with her wordless remonstrance playing in his head, and she flashes him a short-lived smile. She won and of course, she knows it.

The basement emerges again in Jongdae's eyes. He looks down at his fingers closing on emptiness and breathes in deeply. He picks up an unusual acceleration in Sehun's heartbeat, and when he looks at the latter, Sehun immediately blinks away. Jongdae sighs before drawing back his attention on Jongin and Chanyeol.

“You stay away from Thorne,” he says. Jongin and Chanyeol both straighten up, so ridiculously in synchronization that Jongdae immediately regrets giving in to Dahye. They look like kids at Christmas, and god knows he's not sending them to some nicely wrapped gifts. “Just focus on taking any endangered civilians to somewhere safe, okay? No fighting.”

Sehun snorts, and Dahye frowns at him over her shoulder, which successfully keeps Sehun quiet.

“And Heize will come with you.”

Jongin freezes, as pure, bubbly glee takes over his face. He goes from the brightest expression to the reddest face when Chanyeol sends him an amused smile. Jongdae can't believe he's agreed to this.

“Now, give us the address.”

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