(fic)
꼭 깨져봐야 아픈 줄 알지
(you only find out that it hurts after it's already broken.)
sunggyu, dongwoo and woohyun in every permutation | nc-17 | part 5 of 9
It's almost astounding how quickly things improve, afterwards. That night, Dongwoo catches Sunggyu by the elbow and pulls him into the doorframe of their bedroom, and they talk for the first time in weeks-Woohyun watches from where he's sitting at the table in the kitchen, sees from the corner of his eye as Sunggyu smiles, as they embrace, as Dongwoo presses a kiss to the space just below Sunggyu's jaw, casual and affectionate the way they used to be.
It's good, he thinks. He can convince himself of that.
Well, that's not entirely fair-Woohyun is glad, really, that things have gone back to something resembling normal. The delicate balance of the last few weeks, the feeling like everything was tilting precariously with no way to be righted-he doesn't miss that.
He also hadn't missed the spike of jealous loneliness every time Dongwoo and Sunggyu touched each other-but that, too, is normal. Status quo. Woohyun would rather things be like this.
"I think you're improving a lot," Sungjong says one night, when they're all eating dinner in the living room. Even Myungsu is there, leaning into the corner of the couch with Sungjong tucked against his side. "Dongwoo hyung, I mean. You've been… it's been nice lately, right? Calmer."
What he's not saying, but what Woohyun hears, is that Dongwoo hasn't tried to kill any of them in almost three weeks, which is leaps and bounds from where he'd been before.
"I guess so," Dongwoo says. Woohyun watches Sunggyu's fingers tighten, briefly, against his shoulder. "That's good, right? I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Sungjong shakes his head, gesturing with his chopsticks in Dongwoo's general direction. "I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "The brain is really elastic! I mean, some things can't be repaired, but-maybe some parts have just healed themselves. Or at least, they've formed new neuron pathways to fix the ones that were lost? It would help your self-control and emotion impulses a little, I think."
"Sungjong-ah," Sunggyu says, more gently than Woohyun's heard him speak in a long time, "pretend that you're hypothetically talking to a bunch of people who don't speak medical lingo."
Myungsu hides a laugh against Sungjong's shoulder, and Sungjong elbows him gently. "I basically mean his brain is fixing itself, hyung," he says. "I mean, I don't think… it can't fix itself completely, you know? It'll never be completely okay. But it's getting better."
It's reassuring, Woohyun thinks, and thinks that this is the lightest the mood in their apartment has been since Dongwoo came home. "So-what does that mean?" he asks, glancing between Dongwoo and Sungjong. "He can start coming out with us again?"
Sungjong gives Dongwoo an uncertain, contemplative look, then shrugs. "If you feel ready, hyung," he says, addressing Dongwoo, "then… I think it might be okay. If it was just for a while-a short one, maybe. I don't know how much has been repaired, or-I mean, I might not even be right about it. I'm not… a doctor, you know."
"We know," Woohyun says, offering Sungjong a reassuring smile. "But you know better than the rest of us, right?"
"Wait a second." Sunggyu's voice cuts through the conversation, and when Woohyun looks up, his brow is furrowed. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Hyung-"
"Gyu-yah," Dongwoo says, reaching up and taking Sunggyu's hand. Their fingers lace together easily as anything, and Woohyun resists the urge to look away. "With all the respect you know I have for you… I'm really gonna explode if I have to stay in here for another week."
That's enough to draw Sunggyu up short. It's true-Dongwoo hasn't gone further than the apartment's balcony since the day that Woohyun brought him home. He's been a prisoner, in a sense-a prisoner of good intentions, but a prisoner nonetheless, jailed both by their desire to keep him safe and his own desire not to hurt anyone on accident. Dongwoo has been a time bomb, of sorts, with an unpredictable trigger-and it's been easier, Woohyun thinks, to just keep him here, with less risk, fewer people who could be hurt.
But no one has asked Dongwoo how he feels, and he hasn't complained.
"…Okay," Sunggyu says, after an extended moment of looking at Dongwoo-speaking that silent language that no one else understands. "Okay. Woohyun, if you can come up with a route-and we can be sure nothing will go wrong, then… okay."
The open excitement on Dongwoo's face is all that keeps Woohyun from pointing out that you can't ever be sure that nothing will go wrong-instead he nods, returning Dongwoo's grin. "I can do that," he says, stretching out, allowing himself to relax a little. "I think it'll be fine. I have a good feeling about it, you know?" And he does, really, because Dongwoo has been doing better, and Sungjong does know what he's talking about, and Sunggyu's worries aside Woohyun knows that they're strong.
As hurt and broken as he is, Dongwoo is the strongest man Woohyun knows.
In the end, they go out together-Dongwoo, Woohyun, and Sunggyu, on two bikes between them. Woohyun drives Dongwoo's, with Dongwoo riding, and Sunggyu takes Sungyeol's-it's not an ideal scenario, and Woohyun's sure that Dongwoo would rather be driving, but Sunggyu had refused point-blank. It was dangerous enough to go out at all, he'd said-he'd rather not take more risks than necessary.
When Dongwoo climbs onto the back of the motorcycle, Woohyun tilts his head a little and says, "I'll let you drive once Gyu hyung branches off. If you want."
Dongwoo laughs, sliding his arms around Woohyun's waist and patting his thigh. "I knew you were my favorite for a reason," he says, and Woohyun knows it's an empty phrase, but he can't help the way it makes him feel warm inside.
"Stop conspiring," Sunggyu calls, his voice a little tart.
"Do you have a sixth sense for stuff like that, hyung?" Woohyun asks. "It's like you have a radar that pings any time anyone plants to disobey you."
"I had it installed before I met you," Sunggyu says. He still looks unsure, but at least he's joking-and the way he carries himself is lighter than he's been in a while. It's good, Woohyun thinks, to see Sunggyu so relaxed. "And I get monthly maintenance, so don't even try it, okay? I'll know immediately."
"Okay, okay," Dongwoo says. Over Woohyun's shoulder, he reaches out one arm, his pinky extended. "I promise, we won't conspire against you."
Sunggyu gives Dongwoo's pinky a look and puts his helmet on. "Good."
They hit the streets, and it's good. It's nice, being out with Dongwoo again-the last time they'd done this feels like an age ago, another lifetime altogether, and even though then it had been Woohyun riding shotgun on Dongwoo's bike, there's something appreciably familiar about this. The bike hums under them, the vibrations strangely soothing, and between Sunggyu to their left and Dongwoo behind him, Woohyun thinks this is how things should be. This is how he wants things to be again, one day.
Ten minutes into their route, Sunggyu gives Woohyun a vague thumbs-up that Woohyun knows to mean Sunggyu is branching off. Another delivery, nothing important-they'd planned to meet up again at the last leg of the route and head home together. Woohyun gives him a thumbs-up back, and Sunggyu peels away, down a side street away from them.
"Does that mean I get to drive?" Dongwoo shouts over the rumble of the motor and the hum of pavement going by under their wheels.
Woohyun laughs. He feels like he's expanding, adrenaline and the soaring sense of feeling making him buoyant. "You can drive in a minute," he shouts back, reaching back to pat Dongwoo's thigh. "Don't get impatient, hyung."
"You'd be impatient too, if you were me," Dongwoo says, but he's laughing, and that's what Woohyun's thinking of as they round the corner-Dongwoo's laugh, the way his arms feel around Woohyun's waist, the solid heat of his body pressed against Woohyun's back.
The guards come out of nowhere, it seems, the checkpoint spanning the width of the street and barricaded by cement blocks and sandbags. Woohyun drags them into a dangerous skid that leaves marks on the pavement and almost throws them both-barely wrangles the bike under control, sliding to a stop a few feet away from the barricade. "Fucking shit," he swears, reaching up to pull his helmet off. "The fuck is wrong with you?"
One of the guards-one who had watched passively as the bike skidded-shrugs a little. "You should drive more carefully," he says, his hand falling too casually to the gun holstered at his hip. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt."
It's funny, how quickly something like his can raise hackles.
Woohyun clenches his teeth, feels Dongwoo tense behind him. "What's the issue?" he asks, lifting his chin at the roadblock. "This was open street two days ago."
"And then yesterday it was reclaimed by the city," the guard says. He seems terribly unconcerned by this-of course he wouldn't be, since he's never lived in the Edge. The Outside, maybe, but not the Edge-the city doesn't trust Edgedwellers to protect its people, no way, no how. "So now you're gonna have to go the long way. Sorry, princess."
Behind Woohyun, Dongwoo makes an uncomfortable sound. "Woohyun," he says, softly.
"Reclaimed for what?" Woohyun demands. "So you're just gonna-what, exterminate everyone who lived there? Like we're pests that need controlling?"
The guard snorts and exchanges an amused glance with another. "That's not a half-bad idea, actually," he says. "It'd do the city a load of good to have some of that weight off its back."
Woohyun can't help the way his fingers curl into fists, but the guard notices, raises a derisive eyebrow. "What are you going to do?" he asks, drumming his fingers on the grip of his gun. "Attack me? You think a street rat like you would stand a chance against all of us?"
He has a point, but that doesn't stop Woohyun from wanting to rip his throat out. Woohyun spits on the ground, curls his lip. "I might not stand a chance in the long run, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't be dead before you hit the ground," he grinds out, and it's a stupid thing to say and he knows it, but the back of his neck is prickling with anger-there haven't been guards out here in a long time, not this deep into the Edge, and it's been a long time since Woohyun had a vivid memory of how cruel they can be. A long time ago it had been these guards-not these same guards, but the same weapons, the same uniforms-who had torn him from his mother, thrown her corpse into the back of a sanitation truck. Some wounds take a long time to heal.
"Woohyun," Dongwoo says, a little more loudly. "We should go."
"You should listen to your girlfriend," the guard sneers, derisive. "Run along, now."
Half of Woohyun wants to stay and fight. The better part of him does, actually, but while Woohyun is passionate and impulsive, he's not stupid. And when he settles back onto the bike, he registers the way Dongwoo's fingers are digging into his thigh, the tension running through Dongwoo's body.
"Oh, fuck," Woohyun says again, twisting around to look at Dongwoo's face. He's pale, his jaw set, his eyes darting back and forth before finally settling on Woohyun's face. "Hyung, look at me. Focus on me. We're going, okay?"
"Okay," Dongwoo says. He tightens his arms around Woohyun's waist, his grip so hard it's painful, and Woohyun kicks the bike back into gear and speeds off without another word to the guards.
There's a nearby district Woohyun knows, mostly abandoned but for bars and warehouses, so that's where he goes. It's sick to think, but it's an effort to minimize the damage-if Dongwoo is going to lose control, Woohyun doesn't want it to be near bystanders. He can handle it. A stranger on the street might not be so lucky.
He parks the bike near a closed-down restaurant and immediately turns around, straddling the bike backwards to face Dongwoo. "Hyung," Woohyun says, reaching up to cup his face. "Are you okay?"
"Ask me again in five minutes," Dongwoo says. He still looks tense and drawn, but less so than before-some of the color is back in his face, and although he's still holding onto Woohyun's thighs, his fingertips aren't digging in the way they were. If nothing else, the fact that he can joke at all must mean he's coming back to himself.
Still, Woohyun holds onto him, keeping one hand pressed to Dongwoo's jaw, letting the other wander to curl in his hair, trace the column of his neck, the line of his collarbone. "You're okay," he says softly, his thumb brushing through the hollow where Dongwoo's clavicles join. "They're just assholes. I wanted to crack some heads too."
"I could tell," Dongwoo says. He brings one hand up to circle Woohyun's wrist, this thumb pressing against the knob of bone. "You looked like you were about to do something you regret."
"I think I was," Woohyun admits. It's easier to say when it's Dongwoo and not Sunggyu-Sunggyu would give him a disapproving look, tell him about staying off the radar, staying safe. The less the city notices you, the less likely you are to be rebooted. "I just hate their attitudes, you know? Like, aw, you guys are poor fucks living out in the Edge, we're so much better than you. It pisses me off that they barely even think we're human."
"We are poor fucks living out in the Edge," Dongwoo points out, a smile crossing his face. "So they're not wrong about that part."
It's blunt enough to startle a laugh from Woohyun. "Yeah, all right," he agrees, dropping his hand down to his lap. Dongwoo takes it, plays with his fingers a little. "But we're also definitely human. I guess I'll give them half marks for effort, or something."
"That's generous of you," Dongwoo says. "I think I'd probably fail them, myself."
"You're kinder than I am," Woohyun says. It's meant to be a joke, but it rings uncomfortably true-Dongwoo has always been much gentler than Woohyun is, much softer. And in spite of that, or perhaps because of it, he's the strongest man Woohyun's ever known.
"Don't sell yourself short." Dongwoo traces a line on Woohyun's palm with the tip of one finger. It's strangely intimate, for such a casual gesture. "I think you're pretty nice yourself."
They sit like that for a moment, letting the adrenaline wear off, before Woohyun sends Sunggyu a message to let him know about the change in location. They're nowhere near their rendezvous point, but somehow Woohyun thinks that Sunggyu will understand. "Look on the bright side," Woohyun says after a moment, leaning against the bike as Dongwoo stretches out. "If you made it through that, you're probably good to go for almost anything, right?"
Dongwoo laughs. "Don't get ahead of yourself," he says, playfully warning.
When it's like this-when Dongwoo is laughing and they're relaxed-it's easy to imagine that this is how things would have been if none of this had ever happened. If Dongwoo had never been taken, if they'd never rewired his brain, maybe this is where they would have been, happy and generally content with the world. Or rather, as content as any of them have ever been, but you learn to take blessings in any form in the Edge.
"Woohyun-ah," Dongwoo begins, looking first at his hands and then up at Woohyun. "Listen, about the other day."
The other day, when Dongwoo had kissed him like Woohyun had never been kissed before, and then spent the night making love to Sunggyu in a way that Woohyun could hear through the wall separating their bedrooms.
"What about it?" Woohyun asks. Forced casual, because he doesn't really want to talk about it at all.
"I just-"
"Aww, we're not about to interrupt a confession, are we?" A stranger's voice, from behind Dongwoo and to the right. Woohyun is on alert immediately, his hand pressing against his thigh in search of a knife that isn't there. "Don't mind us, ladies. Carry on."
It's irritating, yes, but it's also frustrating, because Dongwoo had been so close to fine. He'd been so calm, and now he's tense again, practically radiating it from every line of his body. Woohyun takes a step closer, like maybe proximity will help calm him down. "We don't want trouble," he says-with the guards fresh on the front of his mind, it's easier to remember that sometimes backing down is not a weakness, but a strength. It's easier to avoid trouble with the peacekeepers, the guards who aren't paid to fight Edgedwellers over petty territory, but people like this-thugs, four of them, likely drunk and armed to the teeth-they're not so easy to win over.
"No one ever wants any trouble," one of them drawls. He has tape wrapped around his knuckles. Woohyun wonders if they've been walking around looking for a fight-if they've only found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. "But sometimes trouble finds you, doncha think?"
Woohyun steps away from the bike, scanning the newcomers, sizing them up. Their leader, he must be their leader, is tall and broad, brawny, but he doesn't hold himself like someone who knows how to fight. Two more of them, twins, look starved but fierce-like Woohyun, before Jaehyun found him, feral and desperate for blood. And the fourth, a sharp-faced girl, her teeth bared in an animal snarl. "I think," Woohyun says carefully, "that trouble might regret finding us right now."
It's as fair a warning as he can give. What else can he say? This man to my right, if you touch him he'll tear you apart?
The bigger man-the leader-snorts and spits on the ground in front of Dongwoo's feet. "I think we're gonna make that decision for ourselves," he says, popping his knuckles and canting his head. "Kids?"
It's one of the twins who comes after Woohyun, bearing a knife and a set of knuckles wrapped in chain. He hates this, hate fighting bare handed-at least when there are weapons, he can remove himself from it a little, but when he fights with just his fists, Woohyun has to own all the damage he does. And he does damage, to this scrawny half-starved street kid-he breaks a couple of the boy's ribs, then brings him down to knee him in the jaw, knock him out cold on the pavement.
An assessment of damages: a swollen cheekbone, what will be a stunning black eye tomorrow. A cut across his bicep, from a wild swing Woohyun couldn't avoid. Throbbing knuckles, though that's more from bone meeting bone than anything else.
Someone gurgles, and Woohyun jerks his head up in time to see the girl drop to the pavement, dead, her esophagus torn out. The leader and the other twin are down, too, their necks at odd angles, bone poking through the skin. Woohyun knows exactly how much force it takes to break a man's neck, knows exactly how much force it takes to tear someone's throat out-and that's how he knows Dongwoo is gone, how he knows for sure. If he were himself, Dongwoo could never do that. Dongwoo's hands are bloody, and Woohyun thinks, Oh, god, sees the knife in Dongwoo's other hand and knows that things are about to go very wrong, yet again.
"Hyung," he says softly.
Dongwoo's head jerks up, and he turns on Woohyun, dropping the torn flesh to the ground. "Hyung," Woohyun says again, "don't do this. You know me, okay?"
They circle around each other, once, twice. There's no recognition in Dongwoo's eyes, no mercy, just the kind of blankness that had so terrified Woohyun the first time he'd seen it. It's been a long time, and Woohyun should have known. He should have known that it was too good to be true.
"Come on, hyung, I know you can hear me," he says, holding his hands up in a supplicative gesture. "I know you know who I am. You can beat this. Come back, hyung. Come on."
From behind Dongwoo, Woohyun can see when Sunggyu approaches. The roar of the bike seems far too loud in the stillness surrounding them, but there's no way to warn him-he can't make any sudden moves, and from that distance, any small gesture would go unnoticed. So he just waits, tense, until Sunggyu drags the bike to a halt and pulls his helmet off.
"What the fuck," is the first thing Sunggyu says. Woohyun knows what he sees-three dead bodies and one unconscious, blood on Dongwoo's hands, the bruising on Woohyun's face.
"Sunggyu," Woohyun says.
"What the fuck," and that's the last thing Sunggyu says before Dongwoo moves.
Woohyun is a fighter, he always has been, but Sunggyu is not. Sunggyu is fierce as hell when he needs to be, but he's not a fighter-he doesn't know how to defend himself, how to protect his weak points, let alone knowing how to attack. And Dongwoo is like a rabid animal, determined, tenacious and vicious until the end.
Sunggyu goes down almost immediately, pushed backwards against the bike, and Dongwoo gets him deep on the forearm with the knife practically before Woohyun can blink. There's a sick moment where Woohyun imagines the worst-that Dongwoo will kill him, actually, will just slit Sunggyu's throat and Woohyun will watch him bleed out onto the pavement and be totally unable to do a single goddamn thing about it. So Woohyun does the first thing that comes to mind-he grabs an empty bottle from its crate outside the abandoned restaurant and slams it over Dongwoo's head. It's inelegant, and dangerous, but it does what it's supposed to-Dongwoo goes down hard, onto his knees, and Woohyun catches him just before he hits the sidewalk.
"Woohyun?" Dongwoo says. It's slurred, and he can't quite focus-he'll have a hell of a headache tomorrow, Woohyun knows, and probably a concussion to boot.
"I'm sorry," Woohyun says, prying the knife from Dongwoo's grip and tossing it away. "Hyung, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Woohyun," Dongwoo repeats, and then he's out cold, dead weight in Woohyun's arms.
Sunggyu struggles into a sitting position, cradling his injured arm against his body. "Are you okay?" Woohyun asks, arranging Dongwoo into a more comfortable position. He leaves him there and steps over to Sunggyu, reaching out for his arm. "Let me see it."
"I've never seen him do damage like that," Sunggyu says. He offers his arm out for Woohyun to look at-the wound is deep, he'll need stitches, but it's oozing instead of bleeding, so Woohyun thinks he'll make it home. "I've seen him get angry, but…"
"When I went to get him," Woohyun says, brushing his fingers delicately over the skin around the wound, "in the sewers on our way out. He crushed a guard's skull with a steel pipe, then went after me with it. I knew he could do damage like this, I just-" Hadn't thought he would, anymore. He'd thought Dongwoo was getting better, that his brain was repairing itself. "I was stupid," Woohyun finishes, sitting back on his heels. "I shouldn't have let this happen-I should have known better." He sighs, looking down at his feet. "Let's get home. Sungjong's going to have to look at both of you."
"Woohyun-"
"Don't," Woohyun says. His voice is sharper than he means for it to be, but he really can't talk about it right now. "Please. Just. Let's go home."
For once, Sunggyu gives in.
part four | part five | part six
(you only find out that it hurts after it's already broken.)
sunggyu, dongwoo and woohyun in every permutation | nc-17 | part 5 of 9
It's almost astounding how quickly things improve, afterwards. That night, Dongwoo catches Sunggyu by the elbow and pulls him into the doorframe of their bedroom, and they talk for the first time in weeks-Woohyun watches from where he's sitting at the table in the kitchen, sees from the corner of his eye as Sunggyu smiles, as they embrace, as Dongwoo presses a kiss to the space just below Sunggyu's jaw, casual and affectionate the way they used to be.
It's good, he thinks. He can convince himself of that.
Well, that's not entirely fair-Woohyun is glad, really, that things have gone back to something resembling normal. The delicate balance of the last few weeks, the feeling like everything was tilting precariously with no way to be righted-he doesn't miss that.
He also hadn't missed the spike of jealous loneliness every time Dongwoo and Sunggyu touched each other-but that, too, is normal. Status quo. Woohyun would rather things be like this.
"I think you're improving a lot," Sungjong says one night, when they're all eating dinner in the living room. Even Myungsu is there, leaning into the corner of the couch with Sungjong tucked against his side. "Dongwoo hyung, I mean. You've been… it's been nice lately, right? Calmer."
What he's not saying, but what Woohyun hears, is that Dongwoo hasn't tried to kill any of them in almost three weeks, which is leaps and bounds from where he'd been before.
"I guess so," Dongwoo says. Woohyun watches Sunggyu's fingers tighten, briefly, against his shoulder. "That's good, right? I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Sungjong shakes his head, gesturing with his chopsticks in Dongwoo's general direction. "I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "The brain is really elastic! I mean, some things can't be repaired, but-maybe some parts have just healed themselves. Or at least, they've formed new neuron pathways to fix the ones that were lost? It would help your self-control and emotion impulses a little, I think."
"Sungjong-ah," Sunggyu says, more gently than Woohyun's heard him speak in a long time, "pretend that you're hypothetically talking to a bunch of people who don't speak medical lingo."
Myungsu hides a laugh against Sungjong's shoulder, and Sungjong elbows him gently. "I basically mean his brain is fixing itself, hyung," he says. "I mean, I don't think… it can't fix itself completely, you know? It'll never be completely okay. But it's getting better."
It's reassuring, Woohyun thinks, and thinks that this is the lightest the mood in their apartment has been since Dongwoo came home. "So-what does that mean?" he asks, glancing between Dongwoo and Sungjong. "He can start coming out with us again?"
Sungjong gives Dongwoo an uncertain, contemplative look, then shrugs. "If you feel ready, hyung," he says, addressing Dongwoo, "then… I think it might be okay. If it was just for a while-a short one, maybe. I don't know how much has been repaired, or-I mean, I might not even be right about it. I'm not… a doctor, you know."
"We know," Woohyun says, offering Sungjong a reassuring smile. "But you know better than the rest of us, right?"
"Wait a second." Sunggyu's voice cuts through the conversation, and when Woohyun looks up, his brow is furrowed. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Hyung-"
"Gyu-yah," Dongwoo says, reaching up and taking Sunggyu's hand. Their fingers lace together easily as anything, and Woohyun resists the urge to look away. "With all the respect you know I have for you… I'm really gonna explode if I have to stay in here for another week."
That's enough to draw Sunggyu up short. It's true-Dongwoo hasn't gone further than the apartment's balcony since the day that Woohyun brought him home. He's been a prisoner, in a sense-a prisoner of good intentions, but a prisoner nonetheless, jailed both by their desire to keep him safe and his own desire not to hurt anyone on accident. Dongwoo has been a time bomb, of sorts, with an unpredictable trigger-and it's been easier, Woohyun thinks, to just keep him here, with less risk, fewer people who could be hurt.
But no one has asked Dongwoo how he feels, and he hasn't complained.
"…Okay," Sunggyu says, after an extended moment of looking at Dongwoo-speaking that silent language that no one else understands. "Okay. Woohyun, if you can come up with a route-and we can be sure nothing will go wrong, then… okay."
The open excitement on Dongwoo's face is all that keeps Woohyun from pointing out that you can't ever be sure that nothing will go wrong-instead he nods, returning Dongwoo's grin. "I can do that," he says, stretching out, allowing himself to relax a little. "I think it'll be fine. I have a good feeling about it, you know?" And he does, really, because Dongwoo has been doing better, and Sungjong does know what he's talking about, and Sunggyu's worries aside Woohyun knows that they're strong.
As hurt and broken as he is, Dongwoo is the strongest man Woohyun knows.
In the end, they go out together-Dongwoo, Woohyun, and Sunggyu, on two bikes between them. Woohyun drives Dongwoo's, with Dongwoo riding, and Sunggyu takes Sungyeol's-it's not an ideal scenario, and Woohyun's sure that Dongwoo would rather be driving, but Sunggyu had refused point-blank. It was dangerous enough to go out at all, he'd said-he'd rather not take more risks than necessary.
When Dongwoo climbs onto the back of the motorcycle, Woohyun tilts his head a little and says, "I'll let you drive once Gyu hyung branches off. If you want."
Dongwoo laughs, sliding his arms around Woohyun's waist and patting his thigh. "I knew you were my favorite for a reason," he says, and Woohyun knows it's an empty phrase, but he can't help the way it makes him feel warm inside.
"Stop conspiring," Sunggyu calls, his voice a little tart.
"Do you have a sixth sense for stuff like that, hyung?" Woohyun asks. "It's like you have a radar that pings any time anyone plants to disobey you."
"I had it installed before I met you," Sunggyu says. He still looks unsure, but at least he's joking-and the way he carries himself is lighter than he's been in a while. It's good, Woohyun thinks, to see Sunggyu so relaxed. "And I get monthly maintenance, so don't even try it, okay? I'll know immediately."
"Okay, okay," Dongwoo says. Over Woohyun's shoulder, he reaches out one arm, his pinky extended. "I promise, we won't conspire against you."
Sunggyu gives Dongwoo's pinky a look and puts his helmet on. "Good."
They hit the streets, and it's good. It's nice, being out with Dongwoo again-the last time they'd done this feels like an age ago, another lifetime altogether, and even though then it had been Woohyun riding shotgun on Dongwoo's bike, there's something appreciably familiar about this. The bike hums under them, the vibrations strangely soothing, and between Sunggyu to their left and Dongwoo behind him, Woohyun thinks this is how things should be. This is how he wants things to be again, one day.
Ten minutes into their route, Sunggyu gives Woohyun a vague thumbs-up that Woohyun knows to mean Sunggyu is branching off. Another delivery, nothing important-they'd planned to meet up again at the last leg of the route and head home together. Woohyun gives him a thumbs-up back, and Sunggyu peels away, down a side street away from them.
"Does that mean I get to drive?" Dongwoo shouts over the rumble of the motor and the hum of pavement going by under their wheels.
Woohyun laughs. He feels like he's expanding, adrenaline and the soaring sense of feeling making him buoyant. "You can drive in a minute," he shouts back, reaching back to pat Dongwoo's thigh. "Don't get impatient, hyung."
"You'd be impatient too, if you were me," Dongwoo says, but he's laughing, and that's what Woohyun's thinking of as they round the corner-Dongwoo's laugh, the way his arms feel around Woohyun's waist, the solid heat of his body pressed against Woohyun's back.
The guards come out of nowhere, it seems, the checkpoint spanning the width of the street and barricaded by cement blocks and sandbags. Woohyun drags them into a dangerous skid that leaves marks on the pavement and almost throws them both-barely wrangles the bike under control, sliding to a stop a few feet away from the barricade. "Fucking shit," he swears, reaching up to pull his helmet off. "The fuck is wrong with you?"
One of the guards-one who had watched passively as the bike skidded-shrugs a little. "You should drive more carefully," he says, his hand falling too casually to the gun holstered at his hip. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt."
It's funny, how quickly something like his can raise hackles.
Woohyun clenches his teeth, feels Dongwoo tense behind him. "What's the issue?" he asks, lifting his chin at the roadblock. "This was open street two days ago."
"And then yesterday it was reclaimed by the city," the guard says. He seems terribly unconcerned by this-of course he wouldn't be, since he's never lived in the Edge. The Outside, maybe, but not the Edge-the city doesn't trust Edgedwellers to protect its people, no way, no how. "So now you're gonna have to go the long way. Sorry, princess."
Behind Woohyun, Dongwoo makes an uncomfortable sound. "Woohyun," he says, softly.
"Reclaimed for what?" Woohyun demands. "So you're just gonna-what, exterminate everyone who lived there? Like we're pests that need controlling?"
The guard snorts and exchanges an amused glance with another. "That's not a half-bad idea, actually," he says. "It'd do the city a load of good to have some of that weight off its back."
Woohyun can't help the way his fingers curl into fists, but the guard notices, raises a derisive eyebrow. "What are you going to do?" he asks, drumming his fingers on the grip of his gun. "Attack me? You think a street rat like you would stand a chance against all of us?"
He has a point, but that doesn't stop Woohyun from wanting to rip his throat out. Woohyun spits on the ground, curls his lip. "I might not stand a chance in the long run, but that doesn't mean you wouldn't be dead before you hit the ground," he grinds out, and it's a stupid thing to say and he knows it, but the back of his neck is prickling with anger-there haven't been guards out here in a long time, not this deep into the Edge, and it's been a long time since Woohyun had a vivid memory of how cruel they can be. A long time ago it had been these guards-not these same guards, but the same weapons, the same uniforms-who had torn him from his mother, thrown her corpse into the back of a sanitation truck. Some wounds take a long time to heal.
"Woohyun," Dongwoo says, a little more loudly. "We should go."
"You should listen to your girlfriend," the guard sneers, derisive. "Run along, now."
Half of Woohyun wants to stay and fight. The better part of him does, actually, but while Woohyun is passionate and impulsive, he's not stupid. And when he settles back onto the bike, he registers the way Dongwoo's fingers are digging into his thigh, the tension running through Dongwoo's body.
"Oh, fuck," Woohyun says again, twisting around to look at Dongwoo's face. He's pale, his jaw set, his eyes darting back and forth before finally settling on Woohyun's face. "Hyung, look at me. Focus on me. We're going, okay?"
"Okay," Dongwoo says. He tightens his arms around Woohyun's waist, his grip so hard it's painful, and Woohyun kicks the bike back into gear and speeds off without another word to the guards.
There's a nearby district Woohyun knows, mostly abandoned but for bars and warehouses, so that's where he goes. It's sick to think, but it's an effort to minimize the damage-if Dongwoo is going to lose control, Woohyun doesn't want it to be near bystanders. He can handle it. A stranger on the street might not be so lucky.
He parks the bike near a closed-down restaurant and immediately turns around, straddling the bike backwards to face Dongwoo. "Hyung," Woohyun says, reaching up to cup his face. "Are you okay?"
"Ask me again in five minutes," Dongwoo says. He still looks tense and drawn, but less so than before-some of the color is back in his face, and although he's still holding onto Woohyun's thighs, his fingertips aren't digging in the way they were. If nothing else, the fact that he can joke at all must mean he's coming back to himself.
Still, Woohyun holds onto him, keeping one hand pressed to Dongwoo's jaw, letting the other wander to curl in his hair, trace the column of his neck, the line of his collarbone. "You're okay," he says softly, his thumb brushing through the hollow where Dongwoo's clavicles join. "They're just assholes. I wanted to crack some heads too."
"I could tell," Dongwoo says. He brings one hand up to circle Woohyun's wrist, this thumb pressing against the knob of bone. "You looked like you were about to do something you regret."
"I think I was," Woohyun admits. It's easier to say when it's Dongwoo and not Sunggyu-Sunggyu would give him a disapproving look, tell him about staying off the radar, staying safe. The less the city notices you, the less likely you are to be rebooted. "I just hate their attitudes, you know? Like, aw, you guys are poor fucks living out in the Edge, we're so much better than you. It pisses me off that they barely even think we're human."
"We are poor fucks living out in the Edge," Dongwoo points out, a smile crossing his face. "So they're not wrong about that part."
It's blunt enough to startle a laugh from Woohyun. "Yeah, all right," he agrees, dropping his hand down to his lap. Dongwoo takes it, plays with his fingers a little. "But we're also definitely human. I guess I'll give them half marks for effort, or something."
"That's generous of you," Dongwoo says. "I think I'd probably fail them, myself."
"You're kinder than I am," Woohyun says. It's meant to be a joke, but it rings uncomfortably true-Dongwoo has always been much gentler than Woohyun is, much softer. And in spite of that, or perhaps because of it, he's the strongest man Woohyun's ever known.
"Don't sell yourself short." Dongwoo traces a line on Woohyun's palm with the tip of one finger. It's strangely intimate, for such a casual gesture. "I think you're pretty nice yourself."
They sit like that for a moment, letting the adrenaline wear off, before Woohyun sends Sunggyu a message to let him know about the change in location. They're nowhere near their rendezvous point, but somehow Woohyun thinks that Sunggyu will understand. "Look on the bright side," Woohyun says after a moment, leaning against the bike as Dongwoo stretches out. "If you made it through that, you're probably good to go for almost anything, right?"
Dongwoo laughs. "Don't get ahead of yourself," he says, playfully warning.
When it's like this-when Dongwoo is laughing and they're relaxed-it's easy to imagine that this is how things would have been if none of this had ever happened. If Dongwoo had never been taken, if they'd never rewired his brain, maybe this is where they would have been, happy and generally content with the world. Or rather, as content as any of them have ever been, but you learn to take blessings in any form in the Edge.
"Woohyun-ah," Dongwoo begins, looking first at his hands and then up at Woohyun. "Listen, about the other day."
The other day, when Dongwoo had kissed him like Woohyun had never been kissed before, and then spent the night making love to Sunggyu in a way that Woohyun could hear through the wall separating their bedrooms.
"What about it?" Woohyun asks. Forced casual, because he doesn't really want to talk about it at all.
"I just-"
"Aww, we're not about to interrupt a confession, are we?" A stranger's voice, from behind Dongwoo and to the right. Woohyun is on alert immediately, his hand pressing against his thigh in search of a knife that isn't there. "Don't mind us, ladies. Carry on."
It's irritating, yes, but it's also frustrating, because Dongwoo had been so close to fine. He'd been so calm, and now he's tense again, practically radiating it from every line of his body. Woohyun takes a step closer, like maybe proximity will help calm him down. "We don't want trouble," he says-with the guards fresh on the front of his mind, it's easier to remember that sometimes backing down is not a weakness, but a strength. It's easier to avoid trouble with the peacekeepers, the guards who aren't paid to fight Edgedwellers over petty territory, but people like this-thugs, four of them, likely drunk and armed to the teeth-they're not so easy to win over.
"No one ever wants any trouble," one of them drawls. He has tape wrapped around his knuckles. Woohyun wonders if they've been walking around looking for a fight-if they've only found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. "But sometimes trouble finds you, doncha think?"
Woohyun steps away from the bike, scanning the newcomers, sizing them up. Their leader, he must be their leader, is tall and broad, brawny, but he doesn't hold himself like someone who knows how to fight. Two more of them, twins, look starved but fierce-like Woohyun, before Jaehyun found him, feral and desperate for blood. And the fourth, a sharp-faced girl, her teeth bared in an animal snarl. "I think," Woohyun says carefully, "that trouble might regret finding us right now."
It's as fair a warning as he can give. What else can he say? This man to my right, if you touch him he'll tear you apart?
The bigger man-the leader-snorts and spits on the ground in front of Dongwoo's feet. "I think we're gonna make that decision for ourselves," he says, popping his knuckles and canting his head. "Kids?"
It's one of the twins who comes after Woohyun, bearing a knife and a set of knuckles wrapped in chain. He hates this, hate fighting bare handed-at least when there are weapons, he can remove himself from it a little, but when he fights with just his fists, Woohyun has to own all the damage he does. And he does damage, to this scrawny half-starved street kid-he breaks a couple of the boy's ribs, then brings him down to knee him in the jaw, knock him out cold on the pavement.
An assessment of damages: a swollen cheekbone, what will be a stunning black eye tomorrow. A cut across his bicep, from a wild swing Woohyun couldn't avoid. Throbbing knuckles, though that's more from bone meeting bone than anything else.
Someone gurgles, and Woohyun jerks his head up in time to see the girl drop to the pavement, dead, her esophagus torn out. The leader and the other twin are down, too, their necks at odd angles, bone poking through the skin. Woohyun knows exactly how much force it takes to break a man's neck, knows exactly how much force it takes to tear someone's throat out-and that's how he knows Dongwoo is gone, how he knows for sure. If he were himself, Dongwoo could never do that. Dongwoo's hands are bloody, and Woohyun thinks, Oh, god, sees the knife in Dongwoo's other hand and knows that things are about to go very wrong, yet again.
"Hyung," he says softly.
Dongwoo's head jerks up, and he turns on Woohyun, dropping the torn flesh to the ground. "Hyung," Woohyun says again, "don't do this. You know me, okay?"
They circle around each other, once, twice. There's no recognition in Dongwoo's eyes, no mercy, just the kind of blankness that had so terrified Woohyun the first time he'd seen it. It's been a long time, and Woohyun should have known. He should have known that it was too good to be true.
"Come on, hyung, I know you can hear me," he says, holding his hands up in a supplicative gesture. "I know you know who I am. You can beat this. Come back, hyung. Come on."
From behind Dongwoo, Woohyun can see when Sunggyu approaches. The roar of the bike seems far too loud in the stillness surrounding them, but there's no way to warn him-he can't make any sudden moves, and from that distance, any small gesture would go unnoticed. So he just waits, tense, until Sunggyu drags the bike to a halt and pulls his helmet off.
"What the fuck," is the first thing Sunggyu says. Woohyun knows what he sees-three dead bodies and one unconscious, blood on Dongwoo's hands, the bruising on Woohyun's face.
"Sunggyu," Woohyun says.
"What the fuck," and that's the last thing Sunggyu says before Dongwoo moves.
Woohyun is a fighter, he always has been, but Sunggyu is not. Sunggyu is fierce as hell when he needs to be, but he's not a fighter-he doesn't know how to defend himself, how to protect his weak points, let alone knowing how to attack. And Dongwoo is like a rabid animal, determined, tenacious and vicious until the end.
Sunggyu goes down almost immediately, pushed backwards against the bike, and Dongwoo gets him deep on the forearm with the knife practically before Woohyun can blink. There's a sick moment where Woohyun imagines the worst-that Dongwoo will kill him, actually, will just slit Sunggyu's throat and Woohyun will watch him bleed out onto the pavement and be totally unable to do a single goddamn thing about it. So Woohyun does the first thing that comes to mind-he grabs an empty bottle from its crate outside the abandoned restaurant and slams it over Dongwoo's head. It's inelegant, and dangerous, but it does what it's supposed to-Dongwoo goes down hard, onto his knees, and Woohyun catches him just before he hits the sidewalk.
"Woohyun?" Dongwoo says. It's slurred, and he can't quite focus-he'll have a hell of a headache tomorrow, Woohyun knows, and probably a concussion to boot.
"I'm sorry," Woohyun says, prying the knife from Dongwoo's grip and tossing it away. "Hyung, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Woohyun," Dongwoo repeats, and then he's out cold, dead weight in Woohyun's arms.
Sunggyu struggles into a sitting position, cradling his injured arm against his body. "Are you okay?" Woohyun asks, arranging Dongwoo into a more comfortable position. He leaves him there and steps over to Sunggyu, reaching out for his arm. "Let me see it."
"I've never seen him do damage like that," Sunggyu says. He offers his arm out for Woohyun to look at-the wound is deep, he'll need stitches, but it's oozing instead of bleeding, so Woohyun thinks he'll make it home. "I've seen him get angry, but…"
"When I went to get him," Woohyun says, brushing his fingers delicately over the skin around the wound, "in the sewers on our way out. He crushed a guard's skull with a steel pipe, then went after me with it. I knew he could do damage like this, I just-" Hadn't thought he would, anymore. He'd thought Dongwoo was getting better, that his brain was repairing itself. "I was stupid," Woohyun finishes, sitting back on his heels. "I shouldn't have let this happen-I should have known better." He sighs, looking down at his feet. "Let's get home. Sungjong's going to have to look at both of you."
"Woohyun-"
"Don't," Woohyun says. His voice is sharper than he means for it to be, but he really can't talk about it right now. "Please. Just. Let's go home."
For once, Sunggyu gives in.
part four | part five | part six