[fic] Beautiful thing...beautiful you - chapter 7
Title: Beautiful Thing...Beautiful You
Pairing(s): Yoomin, (Yunjae later)
Length: Chapter 7/?
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: violence,
Genre: AU, drama, angst, sci-fi
Summary: On one ordinary day like all others, Yoochun rescues an injured man. But the other is not quite what he seems to be. And was their meeting really a coincidence?
A/N: ok i admit part of this gets a little...gross maybe?, and probably still confusing :S but its important for the plot so plz dont give up on it <3 :D
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
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He thought he may be dreaming, or hallucinating, trapped in the indiscernible limbo between consciousness and programming. But soon he was lost in it, fallen into vivid memory, something he longed to undo and rewind, if not forget completely.
Foolish and vain though it was, it seemed that forgetting could actually erase the horror of his actions, the single fateful day that had gotten him killed. Both of them killed.
And memories sucked him greedily down, forcing him to remember and relive it, forcing him to acknowledge and keep it with him. Keeping it vibrant and thriving on the pain and regret deep within him. It was forever carved into his heart and here inside his own head there was no one to reach out and pull him back, no salvation of place to run or hide, and soon he was spiraling out of control into a blur of colored memories, each picture a jolt of real emotion - real as if he had really gone back to that time.
If only he could control his body and actually relive it instead of this torture of merely watching it all over again helplessly from the inside. And his brain turned off, peeling his eyes open as he found himself once again walking down the brightly lit corridor.
A clipboard was tucked against his chest, his meticulously polished shoes clicking faintly on the shiny linoleum floor. He was heading towards one of the lab rooms, the one in which they could work on the robot models comfortably, and where recently they were about to attempt an upgrade of their most promising model with his very own newly finished product.
He almost couldn’t believe he’d finally done it. A chip condensed down into the smallest size yet, and it had amazed and awed the board. Because the powerful intricate program hidden within it was nearly impossible, had been declared impossible by many men years his senior, but Changmin had single-handedly accomplished it.
He strode down the hallway, chest filling with a small swell of pride, head held high and hopes even higher. He felt he was on the verge of a monumental breakthrough, a decisively large step ahead of anyone else before in history, and he knew he would reach it sooner if not later. And he also knew that being acknowledged for this would actually mean more than he would ever admit even to himself.
He craved it so secretly and deeply that he was scared it still wouldn’t be enough. That even if he brought back the proof and presented it before his father, still nothing would change. He wanted to see the hard brown eyes light up because of him, glow with something like pride if not warmth. It was really all he cared about, the major part of what drove him, and it had pushed him to impossible heights already at the mere age of nineteen.
Nothing yet had ever been good enough. Not continually outstanding marks all throughout his schooling career, not the flawless grades nor surpassing those in positions higher than his own. None of the praises or flattering recommendations, not the awards nor the admittance to the highest most prestigious scientific institute. It was the very living center of the technological world, the creator of their present day city itself, and he hadn’t only been invited in personally, he’d passed by all entry level positions to be placed directly on the main research and development team. A whole office to himself, every last piece of equipment, materials, or information he could ever desire.
And although even this didn’t earn much response from his father, he hadn’t let his opportunity go to waste. He never yet disappointed any of those who had given him a chance, and he was still trying to prove that his father’s coldness was not disappointment but merely an inability to show his emotions to his only son. There must be something hidden there, and he just had to work harder, give him something bigger and better to finally be able to receive the words or look he wanted more than anything.
No, he hadn’t let anyone down. Just three short years later, and he had been able to present the scientific world with the nano-chip that could revolutionize all artificial intelligence as they knew it. It would give birth to a whole new line of robots, and he knew it was good. He’d tried, retried, and foolproofed it time and time again. Now all he needed was to prove it in a real model. And that itself was already in the process.
It would happen very soon, the board had already approved and supported it, had already ordered production to begin for it, and the new glint of respect in the eyes of his team, the caution and greed in his superior’s eyes, it was enough to know that he’d done it, that this was where he belonged. He had so much freedom and power it was only a matter of time before even his father couldn’t deny it anymore.
He could finally hold his head up high, sure of himself and his abilities, tell his father confidently that this really was his correct path in life, that he would make the most of it, more than anyone else, and that he would never disappoint him.
A small smile crossed his face as he punched in the code to the testing room. Today was already a step closer to his goal, a preliminary adjustment to the model before it was ready to take on the new program. He’d personally be conducting the last tuning and checks before they could install the chip and finish the first new model in his very own making.
He was to be the founder of this upgraded model, and he only hoped it could do more than succeed. He didn’t care for what new opportunities it may open up and present to him, as long as he was able to continue what he was doing, as long as he could have the power to make his ideas heard, the power to send his work where it was needed. It could mean so much for their world.
He still couldn’t even fully envision or quite fathom the depth of just how great this could be. So many people struggling down on the surface of the earth could be saved from dangerous harsh labor, and moreover the newer robots would be stronger, more capable, could take over more and more of the things needed on the surface, in turn freeing the poor and underprivileged who could then be moved and brought into the protection of the air city. He knew he wanted something like this to become reality, and it could probably only be done with the help of the robots.
He’d only ever heard stories of the surface city, never been there personally and probably never would. Because it was said to be rampant with incurable diseases and biological illnesses. He didn’t know the extent of it, just knew that the reality of it would certainly be ten times worse, more horrific, than the stories and rumors portrayed.
Most people were content with not knowing, with pretending those beneath them didn’t even exist, but Changmin believed they were the base of their own world, were what held them up, and they owed it to their fellow humankind to give back and help with their superior technology and science.
And although he hadn’t yet proposed it to the board, he was already well over halfway through developing some medical vaccines and treatments. Large scale things that could almost instantly be dispersed over large portions of the surface city. He just needed more information about what actually plagued the people down below, and then could make suitable adjustments.
He intended to ask for such help and information at the next chance he got, and could only wonder why no one had yet though of it nor implemented it before. It was simple and would be effective, and they had both the means and finances to accomplish it. He supposed all efforts had been focused and trained on finishing a more high level of robotic model first, and on that front he was excited to be part of this last final step, to give it the last piece and fit the key in.
It was just how his mother always cheered him up, her unshakable belief that he could always find an answer, always make a way, and that if he could use his talent to his upmost power even he could help change the world into a better place. He couldn’t believe that she was actually so right, and that it was finally happening to him now.
Call it the innocence of youth, naivety or simply a man too focused on one thing to see the dangers and darkness that could hinder him. The thought never occurring that other influential people in power may have had different agendas and beliefs than he did, maybe wouldn't want the same things he did. At that time he could only see the positives, the things changing, and he had had no idea how wrong he was, or how much things could change unexpectedly or for the worse. So focused on the pulsating goal dangling barely just out of reach above him, and he failed to see the real dirtiness of the world around him.
So that day when he’d walked into the lab like always, ran his usual checkup on the machines and computers, the habitual pulling on of latex gloves and a mask secured about his face, he had no way to prepare himself or even guess at the changes to come.
Everything he’d known, the routine and security of the system, the trust of his fellow scientists beside him, the blossoming path of his life, all of it was thrown into mind numbing shock the moment he saw what was waiting for them on the operation table.
No. Not what. But who. An actual person. Junsu.
He stopped in his tracks, not comprehending the sight before him, thinking he’d walked into the wrong room or was seeing things incorrectly. But it was clearly the small man he’d entered the complex with that day so long ago, three years sharing a room and they were inseparable, the closest thing he could identify to as brothers.
Junsu with glazed, drugged eyes, face pale and slack, head sagging against his shoulder. Strapped down upon the table for all the world looking the part of the robots usually laying waiting in that exact position.
And Changmin couldn’t move or think, not with the way the other men in the room acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, that nothing was wrong, hardly sparing a glance for the man strapped to the table as they prepared tools, pulled up files and spoke calmly about the procedure to be done that day.
He looked away from his friend at last to stare at them in slight shock.
“What’s going on?” He asked loudly, bluntly, and the sound of his voice rising clearly above the soft sounds of machinery caused Junsu to blink slowly, everything about him languid and unnaturally dull. Eyes rolled to find his, and the cloudiness in their depths was frightening. “What’s going on here?” He repeated getting frantic. “Why’s Junsu here? What’s wrong with him, is he sick?”
“If you’d snap out of it and get to your station, you’d find that the specimen is in quite perfect condition.” The team leader snapped cooly, a clear order for him to get to work and stop asking questions. To stop standing like an idiot in the middle of a scheduled operation.
But, specimen? They couldn’t be referring to Junsu. Something had gone wrong, there was a huge mistake. They hadn’t informed him of a room change, and maybe he was in the wrong place, or that no one thought he’d care to know that his roommate was sick, that Junsu was in need of intense medical treatment, some kind of surgery, and he’d be observing or helping.
But it didn’t make sense. The set up was wrong, as were the metal cuffs pinning Junsu down where he lay. As were his clear orders and plans for the day. This was the right place. This was where he was supposed to implant his chip.
Panic was the first solid thing to fill his mind and he rushed forward, unable to think, just reacting as his fingers scrabbled clumsily with the iron clasps. Why was he shaking so bad? Why couldn’t he get the clamps open? He trusted his instincts, and they obviously were planning something very wrong, had gone crazy and strapped down one of their own colleagues against his will.
And though he couldn’t understand how this had happened or what was going on, how all of his team mates had not just let this happen but seemed to be fine with it, ready to even do something to Junsu, he knew that it was wrong, that he was the only one with a clear head and that he had to get Junsu out of there. Had to go find the authorities and report all of the others for their horrible intentions.
But hands were grabbing hold of his arms tightly, yanking him back and away from Junsu’s side.
“Get a hold of yourself, Shim!” A bark of unusual anger, someone shaking him so hard it made his vision blur.
He whirled on the man, the team captain of all people, and something flared within him uncontrollably at the cool uncaring expression he saw there.
“What he hell is the meaning of this? How dare you restrain him!” He nearly shouted in the man’s face. He didn’t care he’d get in trouble for stepping out of line, especially right before a job, but he knew it would be worse if he didn’t stand up and let people know what the man was attempting, if he didn’t stop this now.
He was met with fiery eyes, and indignant glare in eyes that seemed to categorize everything in the name of research and labeled even living breathing people as merely scientific organisms.
“Have you gone mad?” He nearly choked on the words, too angry to even see properly. “Headquarters would never allow this, you of all people should know how illegal- the consequences of secretly testing-”
His angry tirade was cut off abruptly by a heavy hand slamming across his face. He staggered with the force of the slap, ears ringing as he stumbled back against a work table and knocking a whole tray of vials and chemicals to smash and curl up in smoke on the floor. He could hear the hiss of acid eating away at where it splashed against his lab coat, but he was too stunned to care.
“I’ll have you suspended for that.” The team leader snarled. “You think you’re so high and mighty with your new toy. You’re just a kid with nothing to your name but a score and I wont tolerate such rude impudence. Either you get to your station or you get out. And don’t think you wont be reprimanded severly for attempting to undermine my authority.”
Changmin gaped at him, a person he’d never really liked, but had at least looked up to as the genius scientist he was. The words could only mean this was all approved, was supposed to happen, and here they were about to do something to a living human.
He couldn’t get his head around it. Who had allowed this? What were they trying to do? He couldn’t even begin to understand what they were planning, but he knew whatever it was there was no way he was leaving the room and leaving Junsu helpless and drugged, strapped to the table like an animal...like a robot.
Maybe he was overreacting and getting something wrong. They must be doing something medical here, something must have been wrong with Junsu...but it couldn’t justify the state his friend was in, nor could he ignore the name of the files that were drawn up on the projector. Something with the words human alterations, cyborg technologies, and it was all he could bear to see.
His cheek stung from the slap, his eyes stung with hot tears, and his very core burned with rising horror and denial. He needed to know what was going to happen, the previous report he’d read would do nothing more than mangle and disable a normal person. It wasn’t made for people. It was supposed to be an artificial robot lying there, and he swayed dangerously where he stood.
He didn’t know how he got there but he was now at his station, was staring blankly at the paper before him, and the girl next to him turned a sharp eye on him.
“No one is told beforehand because they don’t want people to go spreading rumors or back out once they are deemed worthy to be let in this far. But someone up there seemed to think you were ready to see the most important vital project the Complex is really working so hard for.” She spoke so easily, carefree, as she checked her papers and tools. Changmin turned listless burning eyes to stare at her uncomprehendingly.
“Come on, Shim.” She laughed. “You didn’t think that was all we were capable of, did you? There are whole floors and sections of the Complex you don’t even know exist. And I guess you’d be pretty naive to think that your amazing development would go to those clumsy robots. Not when we’re pretty sure you’ve managed to create the missing link to us perfecting our cyborg models.”
Changmin continued to stare, beyond horrified now, completely numb from all the sudden revelations, from the truth being shoved in his face in the most awful way. For the way she was so happy about this. And he could hear Junsu moaning faintly behind them in the middle of the room. This couldn’t be real... his friend was no cyborg... his friend was here against his will, was going to be hurt... and who had said that was okay? Who decided this? How could he even believe the word cyborg when nothing in the whole world could support that?
But everyone here seemed to know something he didn’t. Something so much bigger, darker, uglier than the glowing beacon he’d thought the Complex to be. Was it not just a technological research center? How could there be experimentation on unwilling humans, on their own scientists?
He felt nauseous, and gripped the side of the counter tightly to keep himself upright. But they didn’t even give him time to understand or come to some sort of answer. They were already moving over to Junsu, were preparing tools and he stared at them all with a quiet sort of blankness muffling everything, like cotton pressed over all his senses.
Junsu was still human. Right now they were about to change him, to rip out parts of his body and replace it with artificial machinery. And it was ridiculously insane, but nothing was stopping them. And he lurched forward as the team leader pulled out his scalpel and bent over Junsu’s helpless form without a moments hesitation.
Blood was everywhere and had he not seen plenty of surgeries in his training and medical courses, he would have thought they were killing him, torturing him. But Junsu shouldn’t be awake, shouldn’t be jerking and straining against the bonds like that. Shouldn’t be making those sounds that were muffled by a gag roughly forced between his lips. There should be antiseptic, there should be doctors, there should be a lot of things, but even more than that everything should be a 'shouldn't'. It should be everything except for what was currently before him now, and his legs gave out beneath him.
None of the talk between the scientist currently cutting Junsu apart made any sense. Things that shouldn’t be possible or exist, artificial tissues and programming controlling the human brain. Most of the black nauseous hole that had opened up within him stemmed from the realization that not only did all of this already exist...but what he’d made would help it become better. He knew his program was perfect... there was no way it could fail. How could he just sit by and watch them use it on Junsu?
And what they were doing now, what they had to do first... replace half of Junsu’s internal organs with wires and technology, reinvent his very body. It was horrific and wrong, and not only could it go bad so easily, if it worked he would no longer be human.
No one was really paying attention to him anymore, too focused on the body now cut open grotesquely beneath them, too intent on the careful mesh of equipment they were untangling, parts already embedded and protruding from his body, the things they were replacing being dropped carelessly in a hazardous waste bin. And there was no way this would be possible without killing Junsu in the process. He didn’t want it to be possible, didn’t want to understand because this sort of science shouldn’t be practiced.
And if no one else was going to come to their senses and see what was going on, then he was going to have to do it. By now it was already too late, there was no way he could fix what had just happened before his eyes. There was no way to heal the damage done, no way to save Junsu from the destruction that only minutes before was his healthy whole body. It was all Changmin’s fault, he should have fought them off, make them stop and then found some way to put it all back, make it all right.
But as he staggered to his feet, stomach lurching and churning with the sight now more clearly visible before his eyes, he knew that he couldn’t save him anymore. He would die or they would succeed in their gruesome transformation, and he would no longer be Junsu. If he couldn’t save him from that fate, he was at least responsible for putting an end to this and setting him free. He was sure that was what Junsu would want, not able to see the confirmation in eyes that had long since fallen closed in a faint, but not needing to see it. He’d already seen enough.
He did the only thing he could think of in that moment, the only part of his brain that could form actual thoughts and intentions. And his sole purpose was to put Junsu out of his pain and misery, to get him far from the grasp of the scientists turned murderers around them.
The scene would haunt him in all his waking conscious hours, he’d spend infinite hours and days agonizing over his actions, reliving the moment, asking and pleading if there had been some other way, a better way. But he’d already lost what control he had left. Not with tear tracks visible on chalk white cheeks, not with a body ripped open and exposed before him.
Moving over to the large storage cabinet as quickly as he could, he pulled it open, searching for the one thing that had filled his dazed mind. There was only one thing that he could think of that would stop this instantly, relieve Junsu from the torture and put him forever far out of their reach.
Scrambling and fumbling the vial out of its confinements, innocuous red blood sloshed and swirled within the crystal held in his trembling hands. Chilled and ready for immediate use, though he’d never seen it in actual testing. He wasn’t responsible for that field, and now he only had hearsay to go by. He'd only ever heard of the special properties of blood type E, of the swift poisonous reaction it had upon contact with all other blood types which rejected it.
And no one was even looking or saw when he prepared the syringe, heart thundering in his chest as his eyes flickered between the blood in his hands and the body of his friend. There was no time to rethink or second guess, no time to take a step back or find another way. He’d already made his decision because the white clad men and woman had morphed into monsters before him, and he felt he was wading through the heavy air of dreams as he forced his body to move to the table side.
None of this was real, none of this was really happening, and his hands were incredibly steady as he located the vein pulsing weakly in Junsu’s arm, guided the needle to its place and injected the liquid in with all the gentle care and precision of a professional.
And his heart nearly stopped in surprise as suddenly tear drop eyes were glistening up at him, still clouded and marred with drugs, but even those couldn’t hide the overwhelming pain. Pain that was only too quickly slipping from his eyes in the form of quick tears, washing it all out and leaving nothing but relief and thankfulness in those eyes instead.
Junsu had seen the small syringe of red, must know what it was, must know what Changmin had decided to give him, and despite the look in his eyes telling Changmin he’d done the right thing, he could never forget the next few minutes as Junsu’s body reacted nearly instantly, a slow shaking tremor growing in intensity. Soon he was seizing up, muscles tight and clenching, back arching and a muffled scream ripped from his throat.
They were shoving Changmin away, tearing the needle from Junsu’s arm. But it was too late, it was already empty. The incompatible blood was now flowing through his body in an almost visible path. His veins darkening and breaking as it forced its way through, staining a gruesome path of death. It was creeping and twisting under his skin in increasingly broad branches as it flowed through his whole system, like something alive and consuming his blood from the inside out, extinguishing his very life source and then he was convulsing and thrashing.
The air was heavy with the smell of blood, of a nauseating stench of something burning and decaying all at the same time, shouting and crashing as things fell about the room, men rushing around. Pure chaos with Junsu writhing in the middle and Changmin could still see him, stricken and unable to look away from where he was now pinned forcefully against the wall by security personnel.
It was far worse than he could have ever imagined, was definitely not what he’d heard it to be. And his own cries joined with Junsu’s as he was nearly blinded with his own hot tears. Junsu was dying in the most disgusting painful way, and it was Changmin who had done it to him, was Changmin who was unable to wait and see another way out. It was Changmin who’d been weak before the horror that went on in the room, and far from saving his friend he had punished him more severly than all the rest of the scientists’ actions put together.
Junsu fell still only too quickly, the blood now pooling on the table no longer bright red and full of his life. No, everything was muddy black, congealing and reeking, and he couldn’t even recognize the face turned towards his anymore, burned and dissolving from the inside, skin sinking down upon itself, and Changmin’s body was trying to throw up, curling over as painful hacking dragged nothing but blood up from his stomach. There were hands forcing him down to the ground, something hard and cold on his neck, shoulders wrenched painfully and arms twisted fiercely behind him as they snapped handcuffs about his wrists.
And nothing could stop the sobs tearing at his chest, nothing could stop the screams bubbling up between them. Tears flooding his eyes and a horrible ringing sound in his ears.
A nightmare was just beginning and he could still see the destroyed body before him even behind his closed eyelids. Junsu’s eyes as he’d last seen them, looking at him with so much trust, and the weight of his deed nearly crushed his heart within him. He had murdered him, just walked over and killed him, and nothing else mattered more than that.
He couldn’t do anything but follow when he was dragged and pushed, unable to fight or resist the hands that held him down, the drugs injected into his own system that soon had him hallucinating and screaming more as every face before him seemed riddled with blackening spiderwebs, eyes popping out and everything else sagging in horrifically.
And then he was no longer able to even stand, the world swirling and bleeding into itself around him. They were taking him down a hallway lit with eerie blue lighting, everything seemed to be floating and voices echoed so loudly about him that it all sounded like a roaring wave crushing his ears and making black spots blot out his vision.
Ages upon ages later and he could understand what was going on again. It might have been only minutes or as much as hours and days later, but he was sure he was actually dreaming now, a full-blown nightmare become more real and more inescapable than ever as he found himself tied down to a table just as Junsu had been.
He’d seen it over and over again every conscious moment, hadn’t been capable of doing anything else, and finding himself in the exact position that terrified and haunted him only made sense given the state of his delirium.
They said the Director had been upset to hear of his betrayal. That he wished for him to be quarantined rather than given a second chance. But She had stood up for him, asked for him instead. She had been confident that She could carry on the experiment, assuring them She could keep his value intact.
They said his brain and knowledge was pricelessly valuable, that it was a pity, but that they could use it better this way. He’d given them all they needed, and it was only fair that he could be the first to try the product out. They told him how happy he should be to become living proof of his success, making an example of himself in the most honorable show of devotion.
They told him he’d be better than all the others, would shine and turn the bleak future around. He should be grateful he could provide that world-changing experiment he’d so wanted to accomplish. They told him his family would be proud to have such an exemplary son, someone who gave his whole life to his dreams and aspirations. They said his choice wouldn’t go to waste and that they’d do the upmost to make the most of this step forward. They would improve and improve again his work until it was perfected, and that it was too bad he’d be unable to see the result himself. Someone said it was also too bad they’d lose his mind like this, but that it was better than having him destroyed and shipped to the surface as organ donations.
They said he would agree with them and recognize the beauty of what he’d help them create. He would realize how light the future had become and the changes now happening rapidly for mankind. He would understand that his life was not a sacrifice but a choice, and that he was lucky to be part of something so revolutionary and amazing.
He couldn’t agree or disagree with the voices either way, nor could he truly see what they were in fact doing to him. Floating in his head were pieces of things trying to fit together. All the information and lies mixing and he couldn’t understand. He didn’t feel much of anything but a nagging urgent feeling, one telling him to fight, to run, but he was powerless to do more than blink his eyes slowly.
He could hear so many other sounds, things that he couldn’t identify, could feel in a surreal detached way how his body was being touched, flashes and echoes of pain circling slowly up through his heavy limbs and igniting sparks of fear in his brain. There was nothing he could do and he couldn’t understand why or how it could be Junsu above him now, looking down at him with sad, sad eyes. Because Junsu was dead, he’d killed him. But a soft sorry smile filled his vision, and phantom hands reached out to brush his eyelids closed.
It was the last thing he was to remember before he was sucked into the farthest darkest recess of his mind and trapped there by an invisible binding force. Far off faint colors and images, broken and stitched together out of order and indecipherable were the only things that let him know he was somewhere somehow still alive and living. A different part of him perhaps, one that he couldn’t control or access, and he was fine with that.
He didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to be in control. Because he was too terrified of what he’d done, of what kind of person he was, and more than that, of what he’d actually become now. Staying here was safe and easy, was only natural, and he let it go on without him for ages and bordering on eternity.
He never would have cared to let it change or wished to stop the faintest echo of existence that he’d become, but he couldn’t even remember since when something had started to change.
Something had infiltrated his nonexistent thoughts, something had floated in repeatedly, bumping and sliding against him uncomfortably until he had to turn and acknowledge it.
There were eyes. A muted segment of life he couldn’t place nor cared to understand, but in the midst of it, a single wavering form had materialized. Nothing about the man he saw was remarkable or memorable in anyway, and those eyes hadn’t even been directed at him. But he’d seen them. As clear as if he were once again in his right mind, and the shock of things he’d forgotten, light, emotion, beauty, and life, struck him nearly blind.
He could see this person’s eyes. He could feel himself trickling back towards a center, small bits of lost consciousness struggling to meld back into a lopsided ugly lump that he called himself. And the drive to just be. The overwhelming desire to be himself again, to become conscious and...alive. It was like hot fire dancing on his long dead senses, electricity to his suppressed and forgotten mind, sparking something deep within him and providing a semblance of an identity to which he could barely cling. But to which he could gather himself once more, and with the guidance of those eyes, the power they gave him, he finally could feel whatever it was that overpowered and destroyed him, could literally feel it within him in all its reality.
It controlled his body and mind, it kept him imprisoned with his soul so shredded and distributed irretrievably it was nearly impossible that he should be able to be aware of it all now. But he was. And he was getting stronger.
He could feel the heart of its power. Not his heart which was thudding and crackling with each beat, a heart that still helped him live but that no longer held his life within it. But this other heart, the program, was there. Unprotected. And he could feel it.
It was all of his consciousness, just focused on the ebb and flow of that false heart in the middle of his chest. He felt his body as if it were not his, a phantom, but even that was slowly getting more solid, more real, because the program was waning, wasn’t watching him as closely, wasn’t commanding him as rigidly and completely as it always had.
And he knew who those eyes belonged to. They were Yoochun’s. And the day he realized he wanted to belong to Yoochun as well his whole body had burned with such a terrifying surge of sensation and feeling, that he’d nearly screamed with the raw force of it as he peeled his eyes open with his own strength. Stared down upon his own body, moved his own hand awkwardly, as if still detached and not his own, as he forced his fingers into his own flesh. Digging and ripping, and skin was giving way beneath his frenzied clawing.
He had fallen to the ground, vision growing dark even as he focused so intently, forced every last ounce of energy physically and mentally, until broken fingertips amidst the heat of his own body had brushed against something cold and hard.
And it was only too easy to wrap shaking fingers around the thing, feeling the tug and strain against wires and sinew but the solid reality of it in his grasp, the sudden clarity that send shock waves through his brain, feeling finally himself for the first time since he could remember, it was all he needed before he used the last bit of his flickering consciousness and strength to tear and rip the piece fiercely from his body.
Pain hit him like a tidalwave, and he welcomed each crashing pulse that send him tumbling into giddy dizziness. His body was real and solid and heavy, each part of him screaming in pain, protesting where it didn’t feel right anymore, of where something had been changed or was missing, and he was too lightheaded and disoriented to do anything but get lost in the sensations.
He was alive. He was breathing and feeling and thinking. And it was too much to take. Too much of a burden. Too much for tears of relief, or the swooping of fear, or the bitter crushing devastation of loss. Too many things destroyed and gone. And too much for gratitude of life reclaimed, too much shock at being here and present, because living had never been so hard. But he knew without a doubt that he never wanted to do anything else but that.
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next chapter~**************
Pairing(s): Yoomin, (Yunjae later)
Length: Chapter 7/?
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: violence,
Genre: AU, drama, angst, sci-fi
Summary: On one ordinary day like all others, Yoochun rescues an injured man. But the other is not quite what he seems to be. And was their meeting really a coincidence?
A/N: ok i admit part of this gets a little...gross maybe?, and probably still confusing :S but its important for the plot so plz dont give up on it <3 :D
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
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He thought he may be dreaming, or hallucinating, trapped in the indiscernible limbo between consciousness and programming. But soon he was lost in it, fallen into vivid memory, something he longed to undo and rewind, if not forget completely.
Foolish and vain though it was, it seemed that forgetting could actually erase the horror of his actions, the single fateful day that had gotten him killed. Both of them killed.
And memories sucked him greedily down, forcing him to remember and relive it, forcing him to acknowledge and keep it with him. Keeping it vibrant and thriving on the pain and regret deep within him. It was forever carved into his heart and here inside his own head there was no one to reach out and pull him back, no salvation of place to run or hide, and soon he was spiraling out of control into a blur of colored memories, each picture a jolt of real emotion - real as if he had really gone back to that time.
If only he could control his body and actually relive it instead of this torture of merely watching it all over again helplessly from the inside. And his brain turned off, peeling his eyes open as he found himself once again walking down the brightly lit corridor.
A clipboard was tucked against his chest, his meticulously polished shoes clicking faintly on the shiny linoleum floor. He was heading towards one of the lab rooms, the one in which they could work on the robot models comfortably, and where recently they were about to attempt an upgrade of their most promising model with his very own newly finished product.
He almost couldn’t believe he’d finally done it. A chip condensed down into the smallest size yet, and it had amazed and awed the board. Because the powerful intricate program hidden within it was nearly impossible, had been declared impossible by many men years his senior, but Changmin had single-handedly accomplished it.
He strode down the hallway, chest filling with a small swell of pride, head held high and hopes even higher. He felt he was on the verge of a monumental breakthrough, a decisively large step ahead of anyone else before in history, and he knew he would reach it sooner if not later. And he also knew that being acknowledged for this would actually mean more than he would ever admit even to himself.
He craved it so secretly and deeply that he was scared it still wouldn’t be enough. That even if he brought back the proof and presented it before his father, still nothing would change. He wanted to see the hard brown eyes light up because of him, glow with something like pride if not warmth. It was really all he cared about, the major part of what drove him, and it had pushed him to impossible heights already at the mere age of nineteen.
Nothing yet had ever been good enough. Not continually outstanding marks all throughout his schooling career, not the flawless grades nor surpassing those in positions higher than his own. None of the praises or flattering recommendations, not the awards nor the admittance to the highest most prestigious scientific institute. It was the very living center of the technological world, the creator of their present day city itself, and he hadn’t only been invited in personally, he’d passed by all entry level positions to be placed directly on the main research and development team. A whole office to himself, every last piece of equipment, materials, or information he could ever desire.
And although even this didn’t earn much response from his father, he hadn’t let his opportunity go to waste. He never yet disappointed any of those who had given him a chance, and he was still trying to prove that his father’s coldness was not disappointment but merely an inability to show his emotions to his only son. There must be something hidden there, and he just had to work harder, give him something bigger and better to finally be able to receive the words or look he wanted more than anything.
No, he hadn’t let anyone down. Just three short years later, and he had been able to present the scientific world with the nano-chip that could revolutionize all artificial intelligence as they knew it. It would give birth to a whole new line of robots, and he knew it was good. He’d tried, retried, and foolproofed it time and time again. Now all he needed was to prove it in a real model. And that itself was already in the process.
It would happen very soon, the board had already approved and supported it, had already ordered production to begin for it, and the new glint of respect in the eyes of his team, the caution and greed in his superior’s eyes, it was enough to know that he’d done it, that this was where he belonged. He had so much freedom and power it was only a matter of time before even his father couldn’t deny it anymore.
He could finally hold his head up high, sure of himself and his abilities, tell his father confidently that this really was his correct path in life, that he would make the most of it, more than anyone else, and that he would never disappoint him.
A small smile crossed his face as he punched in the code to the testing room. Today was already a step closer to his goal, a preliminary adjustment to the model before it was ready to take on the new program. He’d personally be conducting the last tuning and checks before they could install the chip and finish the first new model in his very own making.
He was to be the founder of this upgraded model, and he only hoped it could do more than succeed. He didn’t care for what new opportunities it may open up and present to him, as long as he was able to continue what he was doing, as long as he could have the power to make his ideas heard, the power to send his work where it was needed. It could mean so much for their world.
He still couldn’t even fully envision or quite fathom the depth of just how great this could be. So many people struggling down on the surface of the earth could be saved from dangerous harsh labor, and moreover the newer robots would be stronger, more capable, could take over more and more of the things needed on the surface, in turn freeing the poor and underprivileged who could then be moved and brought into the protection of the air city. He knew he wanted something like this to become reality, and it could probably only be done with the help of the robots.
He’d only ever heard stories of the surface city, never been there personally and probably never would. Because it was said to be rampant with incurable diseases and biological illnesses. He didn’t know the extent of it, just knew that the reality of it would certainly be ten times worse, more horrific, than the stories and rumors portrayed.
Most people were content with not knowing, with pretending those beneath them didn’t even exist, but Changmin believed they were the base of their own world, were what held them up, and they owed it to their fellow humankind to give back and help with their superior technology and science.
And although he hadn’t yet proposed it to the board, he was already well over halfway through developing some medical vaccines and treatments. Large scale things that could almost instantly be dispersed over large portions of the surface city. He just needed more information about what actually plagued the people down below, and then could make suitable adjustments.
He intended to ask for such help and information at the next chance he got, and could only wonder why no one had yet though of it nor implemented it before. It was simple and would be effective, and they had both the means and finances to accomplish it. He supposed all efforts had been focused and trained on finishing a more high level of robotic model first, and on that front he was excited to be part of this last final step, to give it the last piece and fit the key in.
It was just how his mother always cheered him up, her unshakable belief that he could always find an answer, always make a way, and that if he could use his talent to his upmost power even he could help change the world into a better place. He couldn’t believe that she was actually so right, and that it was finally happening to him now.
Call it the innocence of youth, naivety or simply a man too focused on one thing to see the dangers and darkness that could hinder him. The thought never occurring that other influential people in power may have had different agendas and beliefs than he did, maybe wouldn't want the same things he did. At that time he could only see the positives, the things changing, and he had had no idea how wrong he was, or how much things could change unexpectedly or for the worse. So focused on the pulsating goal dangling barely just out of reach above him, and he failed to see the real dirtiness of the world around him.
So that day when he’d walked into the lab like always, ran his usual checkup on the machines and computers, the habitual pulling on of latex gloves and a mask secured about his face, he had no way to prepare himself or even guess at the changes to come.
Everything he’d known, the routine and security of the system, the trust of his fellow scientists beside him, the blossoming path of his life, all of it was thrown into mind numbing shock the moment he saw what was waiting for them on the operation table.
No. Not what. But who. An actual person. Junsu.
He stopped in his tracks, not comprehending the sight before him, thinking he’d walked into the wrong room or was seeing things incorrectly. But it was clearly the small man he’d entered the complex with that day so long ago, three years sharing a room and they were inseparable, the closest thing he could identify to as brothers.
Junsu with glazed, drugged eyes, face pale and slack, head sagging against his shoulder. Strapped down upon the table for all the world looking the part of the robots usually laying waiting in that exact position.
And Changmin couldn’t move or think, not with the way the other men in the room acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, that nothing was wrong, hardly sparing a glance for the man strapped to the table as they prepared tools, pulled up files and spoke calmly about the procedure to be done that day.
He looked away from his friend at last to stare at them in slight shock.
“What’s going on?” He asked loudly, bluntly, and the sound of his voice rising clearly above the soft sounds of machinery caused Junsu to blink slowly, everything about him languid and unnaturally dull. Eyes rolled to find his, and the cloudiness in their depths was frightening. “What’s going on here?” He repeated getting frantic. “Why’s Junsu here? What’s wrong with him, is he sick?”
“If you’d snap out of it and get to your station, you’d find that the specimen is in quite perfect condition.” The team leader snapped cooly, a clear order for him to get to work and stop asking questions. To stop standing like an idiot in the middle of a scheduled operation.
But, specimen? They couldn’t be referring to Junsu. Something had gone wrong, there was a huge mistake. They hadn’t informed him of a room change, and maybe he was in the wrong place, or that no one thought he’d care to know that his roommate was sick, that Junsu was in need of intense medical treatment, some kind of surgery, and he’d be observing or helping.
But it didn’t make sense. The set up was wrong, as were the metal cuffs pinning Junsu down where he lay. As were his clear orders and plans for the day. This was the right place. This was where he was supposed to implant his chip.
Panic was the first solid thing to fill his mind and he rushed forward, unable to think, just reacting as his fingers scrabbled clumsily with the iron clasps. Why was he shaking so bad? Why couldn’t he get the clamps open? He trusted his instincts, and they obviously were planning something very wrong, had gone crazy and strapped down one of their own colleagues against his will.
And though he couldn’t understand how this had happened or what was going on, how all of his team mates had not just let this happen but seemed to be fine with it, ready to even do something to Junsu, he knew that it was wrong, that he was the only one with a clear head and that he had to get Junsu out of there. Had to go find the authorities and report all of the others for their horrible intentions.
But hands were grabbing hold of his arms tightly, yanking him back and away from Junsu’s side.
“Get a hold of yourself, Shim!” A bark of unusual anger, someone shaking him so hard it made his vision blur.
He whirled on the man, the team captain of all people, and something flared within him uncontrollably at the cool uncaring expression he saw there.
“What he hell is the meaning of this? How dare you restrain him!” He nearly shouted in the man’s face. He didn’t care he’d get in trouble for stepping out of line, especially right before a job, but he knew it would be worse if he didn’t stand up and let people know what the man was attempting, if he didn’t stop this now.
He was met with fiery eyes, and indignant glare in eyes that seemed to categorize everything in the name of research and labeled even living breathing people as merely scientific organisms.
“Have you gone mad?” He nearly choked on the words, too angry to even see properly. “Headquarters would never allow this, you of all people should know how illegal- the consequences of secretly testing-”
His angry tirade was cut off abruptly by a heavy hand slamming across his face. He staggered with the force of the slap, ears ringing as he stumbled back against a work table and knocking a whole tray of vials and chemicals to smash and curl up in smoke on the floor. He could hear the hiss of acid eating away at where it splashed against his lab coat, but he was too stunned to care.
“I’ll have you suspended for that.” The team leader snarled. “You think you’re so high and mighty with your new toy. You’re just a kid with nothing to your name but a score and I wont tolerate such rude impudence. Either you get to your station or you get out. And don’t think you wont be reprimanded severly for attempting to undermine my authority.”
Changmin gaped at him, a person he’d never really liked, but had at least looked up to as the genius scientist he was. The words could only mean this was all approved, was supposed to happen, and here they were about to do something to a living human.
He couldn’t get his head around it. Who had allowed this? What were they trying to do? He couldn’t even begin to understand what they were planning, but he knew whatever it was there was no way he was leaving the room and leaving Junsu helpless and drugged, strapped to the table like an animal...like a robot.
Maybe he was overreacting and getting something wrong. They must be doing something medical here, something must have been wrong with Junsu...but it couldn’t justify the state his friend was in, nor could he ignore the name of the files that were drawn up on the projector. Something with the words human alterations, cyborg technologies, and it was all he could bear to see.
His cheek stung from the slap, his eyes stung with hot tears, and his very core burned with rising horror and denial. He needed to know what was going to happen, the previous report he’d read would do nothing more than mangle and disable a normal person. It wasn’t made for people. It was supposed to be an artificial robot lying there, and he swayed dangerously where he stood.
He didn’t know how he got there but he was now at his station, was staring blankly at the paper before him, and the girl next to him turned a sharp eye on him.
“No one is told beforehand because they don’t want people to go spreading rumors or back out once they are deemed worthy to be let in this far. But someone up there seemed to think you were ready to see the most important vital project the Complex is really working so hard for.” She spoke so easily, carefree, as she checked her papers and tools. Changmin turned listless burning eyes to stare at her uncomprehendingly.
“Come on, Shim.” She laughed. “You didn’t think that was all we were capable of, did you? There are whole floors and sections of the Complex you don’t even know exist. And I guess you’d be pretty naive to think that your amazing development would go to those clumsy robots. Not when we’re pretty sure you’ve managed to create the missing link to us perfecting our cyborg models.”
Changmin continued to stare, beyond horrified now, completely numb from all the sudden revelations, from the truth being shoved in his face in the most awful way. For the way she was so happy about this. And he could hear Junsu moaning faintly behind them in the middle of the room. This couldn’t be real... his friend was no cyborg... his friend was here against his will, was going to be hurt... and who had said that was okay? Who decided this? How could he even believe the word cyborg when nothing in the whole world could support that?
But everyone here seemed to know something he didn’t. Something so much bigger, darker, uglier than the glowing beacon he’d thought the Complex to be. Was it not just a technological research center? How could there be experimentation on unwilling humans, on their own scientists?
He felt nauseous, and gripped the side of the counter tightly to keep himself upright. But they didn’t even give him time to understand or come to some sort of answer. They were already moving over to Junsu, were preparing tools and he stared at them all with a quiet sort of blankness muffling everything, like cotton pressed over all his senses.
Junsu was still human. Right now they were about to change him, to rip out parts of his body and replace it with artificial machinery. And it was ridiculously insane, but nothing was stopping them. And he lurched forward as the team leader pulled out his scalpel and bent over Junsu’s helpless form without a moments hesitation.
Blood was everywhere and had he not seen plenty of surgeries in his training and medical courses, he would have thought they were killing him, torturing him. But Junsu shouldn’t be awake, shouldn’t be jerking and straining against the bonds like that. Shouldn’t be making those sounds that were muffled by a gag roughly forced between his lips. There should be antiseptic, there should be doctors, there should be a lot of things, but even more than that everything should be a 'shouldn't'. It should be everything except for what was currently before him now, and his legs gave out beneath him.
None of the talk between the scientist currently cutting Junsu apart made any sense. Things that shouldn’t be possible or exist, artificial tissues and programming controlling the human brain. Most of the black nauseous hole that had opened up within him stemmed from the realization that not only did all of this already exist...but what he’d made would help it become better. He knew his program was perfect... there was no way it could fail. How could he just sit by and watch them use it on Junsu?
And what they were doing now, what they had to do first... replace half of Junsu’s internal organs with wires and technology, reinvent his very body. It was horrific and wrong, and not only could it go bad so easily, if it worked he would no longer be human.
No one was really paying attention to him anymore, too focused on the body now cut open grotesquely beneath them, too intent on the careful mesh of equipment they were untangling, parts already embedded and protruding from his body, the things they were replacing being dropped carelessly in a hazardous waste bin. And there was no way this would be possible without killing Junsu in the process. He didn’t want it to be possible, didn’t want to understand because this sort of science shouldn’t be practiced.
And if no one else was going to come to their senses and see what was going on, then he was going to have to do it. By now it was already too late, there was no way he could fix what had just happened before his eyes. There was no way to heal the damage done, no way to save Junsu from the destruction that only minutes before was his healthy whole body. It was all Changmin’s fault, he should have fought them off, make them stop and then found some way to put it all back, make it all right.
But as he staggered to his feet, stomach lurching and churning with the sight now more clearly visible before his eyes, he knew that he couldn’t save him anymore. He would die or they would succeed in their gruesome transformation, and he would no longer be Junsu. If he couldn’t save him from that fate, he was at least responsible for putting an end to this and setting him free. He was sure that was what Junsu would want, not able to see the confirmation in eyes that had long since fallen closed in a faint, but not needing to see it. He’d already seen enough.
He did the only thing he could think of in that moment, the only part of his brain that could form actual thoughts and intentions. And his sole purpose was to put Junsu out of his pain and misery, to get him far from the grasp of the scientists turned murderers around them.
The scene would haunt him in all his waking conscious hours, he’d spend infinite hours and days agonizing over his actions, reliving the moment, asking and pleading if there had been some other way, a better way. But he’d already lost what control he had left. Not with tear tracks visible on chalk white cheeks, not with a body ripped open and exposed before him.
Moving over to the large storage cabinet as quickly as he could, he pulled it open, searching for the one thing that had filled his dazed mind. There was only one thing that he could think of that would stop this instantly, relieve Junsu from the torture and put him forever far out of their reach.
Scrambling and fumbling the vial out of its confinements, innocuous red blood sloshed and swirled within the crystal held in his trembling hands. Chilled and ready for immediate use, though he’d never seen it in actual testing. He wasn’t responsible for that field, and now he only had hearsay to go by. He'd only ever heard of the special properties of blood type E, of the swift poisonous reaction it had upon contact with all other blood types which rejected it.
And no one was even looking or saw when he prepared the syringe, heart thundering in his chest as his eyes flickered between the blood in his hands and the body of his friend. There was no time to rethink or second guess, no time to take a step back or find another way. He’d already made his decision because the white clad men and woman had morphed into monsters before him, and he felt he was wading through the heavy air of dreams as he forced his body to move to the table side.
None of this was real, none of this was really happening, and his hands were incredibly steady as he located the vein pulsing weakly in Junsu’s arm, guided the needle to its place and injected the liquid in with all the gentle care and precision of a professional.
And his heart nearly stopped in surprise as suddenly tear drop eyes were glistening up at him, still clouded and marred with drugs, but even those couldn’t hide the overwhelming pain. Pain that was only too quickly slipping from his eyes in the form of quick tears, washing it all out and leaving nothing but relief and thankfulness in those eyes instead.
Junsu had seen the small syringe of red, must know what it was, must know what Changmin had decided to give him, and despite the look in his eyes telling Changmin he’d done the right thing, he could never forget the next few minutes as Junsu’s body reacted nearly instantly, a slow shaking tremor growing in intensity. Soon he was seizing up, muscles tight and clenching, back arching and a muffled scream ripped from his throat.
They were shoving Changmin away, tearing the needle from Junsu’s arm. But it was too late, it was already empty. The incompatible blood was now flowing through his body in an almost visible path. His veins darkening and breaking as it forced its way through, staining a gruesome path of death. It was creeping and twisting under his skin in increasingly broad branches as it flowed through his whole system, like something alive and consuming his blood from the inside out, extinguishing his very life source and then he was convulsing and thrashing.
The air was heavy with the smell of blood, of a nauseating stench of something burning and decaying all at the same time, shouting and crashing as things fell about the room, men rushing around. Pure chaos with Junsu writhing in the middle and Changmin could still see him, stricken and unable to look away from where he was now pinned forcefully against the wall by security personnel.
It was far worse than he could have ever imagined, was definitely not what he’d heard it to be. And his own cries joined with Junsu’s as he was nearly blinded with his own hot tears. Junsu was dying in the most disgusting painful way, and it was Changmin who had done it to him, was Changmin who was unable to wait and see another way out. It was Changmin who’d been weak before the horror that went on in the room, and far from saving his friend he had punished him more severly than all the rest of the scientists’ actions put together.
Junsu fell still only too quickly, the blood now pooling on the table no longer bright red and full of his life. No, everything was muddy black, congealing and reeking, and he couldn’t even recognize the face turned towards his anymore, burned and dissolving from the inside, skin sinking down upon itself, and Changmin’s body was trying to throw up, curling over as painful hacking dragged nothing but blood up from his stomach. There were hands forcing him down to the ground, something hard and cold on his neck, shoulders wrenched painfully and arms twisted fiercely behind him as they snapped handcuffs about his wrists.
And nothing could stop the sobs tearing at his chest, nothing could stop the screams bubbling up between them. Tears flooding his eyes and a horrible ringing sound in his ears.
A nightmare was just beginning and he could still see the destroyed body before him even behind his closed eyelids. Junsu’s eyes as he’d last seen them, looking at him with so much trust, and the weight of his deed nearly crushed his heart within him. He had murdered him, just walked over and killed him, and nothing else mattered more than that.
He couldn’t do anything but follow when he was dragged and pushed, unable to fight or resist the hands that held him down, the drugs injected into his own system that soon had him hallucinating and screaming more as every face before him seemed riddled with blackening spiderwebs, eyes popping out and everything else sagging in horrifically.
And then he was no longer able to even stand, the world swirling and bleeding into itself around him. They were taking him down a hallway lit with eerie blue lighting, everything seemed to be floating and voices echoed so loudly about him that it all sounded like a roaring wave crushing his ears and making black spots blot out his vision.
Ages upon ages later and he could understand what was going on again. It might have been only minutes or as much as hours and days later, but he was sure he was actually dreaming now, a full-blown nightmare become more real and more inescapable than ever as he found himself tied down to a table just as Junsu had been.
He’d seen it over and over again every conscious moment, hadn’t been capable of doing anything else, and finding himself in the exact position that terrified and haunted him only made sense given the state of his delirium.
They said the Director had been upset to hear of his betrayal. That he wished for him to be quarantined rather than given a second chance. But She had stood up for him, asked for him instead. She had been confident that She could carry on the experiment, assuring them She could keep his value intact.
They said his brain and knowledge was pricelessly valuable, that it was a pity, but that they could use it better this way. He’d given them all they needed, and it was only fair that he could be the first to try the product out. They told him how happy he should be to become living proof of his success, making an example of himself in the most honorable show of devotion.
They told him he’d be better than all the others, would shine and turn the bleak future around. He should be grateful he could provide that world-changing experiment he’d so wanted to accomplish. They told him his family would be proud to have such an exemplary son, someone who gave his whole life to his dreams and aspirations. They said his choice wouldn’t go to waste and that they’d do the upmost to make the most of this step forward. They would improve and improve again his work until it was perfected, and that it was too bad he’d be unable to see the result himself. Someone said it was also too bad they’d lose his mind like this, but that it was better than having him destroyed and shipped to the surface as organ donations.
They said he would agree with them and recognize the beauty of what he’d help them create. He would realize how light the future had become and the changes now happening rapidly for mankind. He would understand that his life was not a sacrifice but a choice, and that he was lucky to be part of something so revolutionary and amazing.
He couldn’t agree or disagree with the voices either way, nor could he truly see what they were in fact doing to him. Floating in his head were pieces of things trying to fit together. All the information and lies mixing and he couldn’t understand. He didn’t feel much of anything but a nagging urgent feeling, one telling him to fight, to run, but he was powerless to do more than blink his eyes slowly.
He could hear so many other sounds, things that he couldn’t identify, could feel in a surreal detached way how his body was being touched, flashes and echoes of pain circling slowly up through his heavy limbs and igniting sparks of fear in his brain. There was nothing he could do and he couldn’t understand why or how it could be Junsu above him now, looking down at him with sad, sad eyes. Because Junsu was dead, he’d killed him. But a soft sorry smile filled his vision, and phantom hands reached out to brush his eyelids closed.
It was the last thing he was to remember before he was sucked into the farthest darkest recess of his mind and trapped there by an invisible binding force. Far off faint colors and images, broken and stitched together out of order and indecipherable were the only things that let him know he was somewhere somehow still alive and living. A different part of him perhaps, one that he couldn’t control or access, and he was fine with that.
He didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to be in control. Because he was too terrified of what he’d done, of what kind of person he was, and more than that, of what he’d actually become now. Staying here was safe and easy, was only natural, and he let it go on without him for ages and bordering on eternity.
He never would have cared to let it change or wished to stop the faintest echo of existence that he’d become, but he couldn’t even remember since when something had started to change.
Something had infiltrated his nonexistent thoughts, something had floated in repeatedly, bumping and sliding against him uncomfortably until he had to turn and acknowledge it.
There were eyes. A muted segment of life he couldn’t place nor cared to understand, but in the midst of it, a single wavering form had materialized. Nothing about the man he saw was remarkable or memorable in anyway, and those eyes hadn’t even been directed at him. But he’d seen them. As clear as if he were once again in his right mind, and the shock of things he’d forgotten, light, emotion, beauty, and life, struck him nearly blind.
He could see this person’s eyes. He could feel himself trickling back towards a center, small bits of lost consciousness struggling to meld back into a lopsided ugly lump that he called himself. And the drive to just be. The overwhelming desire to be himself again, to become conscious and...alive. It was like hot fire dancing on his long dead senses, electricity to his suppressed and forgotten mind, sparking something deep within him and providing a semblance of an identity to which he could barely cling. But to which he could gather himself once more, and with the guidance of those eyes, the power they gave him, he finally could feel whatever it was that overpowered and destroyed him, could literally feel it within him in all its reality.
It controlled his body and mind, it kept him imprisoned with his soul so shredded and distributed irretrievably it was nearly impossible that he should be able to be aware of it all now. But he was. And he was getting stronger.
He could feel the heart of its power. Not his heart which was thudding and crackling with each beat, a heart that still helped him live but that no longer held his life within it. But this other heart, the program, was there. Unprotected. And he could feel it.
It was all of his consciousness, just focused on the ebb and flow of that false heart in the middle of his chest. He felt his body as if it were not his, a phantom, but even that was slowly getting more solid, more real, because the program was waning, wasn’t watching him as closely, wasn’t commanding him as rigidly and completely as it always had.
And he knew who those eyes belonged to. They were Yoochun’s. And the day he realized he wanted to belong to Yoochun as well his whole body had burned with such a terrifying surge of sensation and feeling, that he’d nearly screamed with the raw force of it as he peeled his eyes open with his own strength. Stared down upon his own body, moved his own hand awkwardly, as if still detached and not his own, as he forced his fingers into his own flesh. Digging and ripping, and skin was giving way beneath his frenzied clawing.
He had fallen to the ground, vision growing dark even as he focused so intently, forced every last ounce of energy physically and mentally, until broken fingertips amidst the heat of his own body had brushed against something cold and hard.
And it was only too easy to wrap shaking fingers around the thing, feeling the tug and strain against wires and sinew but the solid reality of it in his grasp, the sudden clarity that send shock waves through his brain, feeling finally himself for the first time since he could remember, it was all he needed before he used the last bit of his flickering consciousness and strength to tear and rip the piece fiercely from his body.
Pain hit him like a tidalwave, and he welcomed each crashing pulse that send him tumbling into giddy dizziness. His body was real and solid and heavy, each part of him screaming in pain, protesting where it didn’t feel right anymore, of where something had been changed or was missing, and he was too lightheaded and disoriented to do anything but get lost in the sensations.
He was alive. He was breathing and feeling and thinking. And it was too much to take. Too much of a burden. Too much for tears of relief, or the swooping of fear, or the bitter crushing devastation of loss. Too many things destroyed and gone. And too much for gratitude of life reclaimed, too much shock at being here and present, because living had never been so hard. But he knew without a doubt that he never wanted to do anything else but that.
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next chapter~**************