Blood and Water: 3/?
---CHAPTER THREE---
Chansung woke up in the hospital for the second time, groggy but coherent in the
still of night. He shifted and saw an attending nurse in the corner, probably on
watch since his last attempt to free himself. As he shifted, he saw her
stirring, and immediately went to feigning sleep.
The nurse had been sitting there for hours, wanting a cigarette and a break and felt no shame in sharing her thoughts with the comatose patient.
"...ugh they always leave me with the nutcases..." she mumbled, "I need to leave or I'll lose my mind talking to you..."
She stretched in her chair and looked over at Chansung, ever the idea of
peaceful as he lay there.
"...at least you're still knocked out...I'm sure you won't miss me..."
She stepped out for a smoke, but Chansung waited a few seconds to slowly open
his eyes. He took the chance to rush and pull out the last few wires he was hooked up to. One in
particular monitored his heart rate, and he knew he would be in trouble once it
flat-lined.
"Shit."
Chansung cursed as soon as he heard the steady beep. He staggered hurriedly
toward the door as he heard footsteps, setting up the chair she previously sat
in underneath the handle. His head still hurt, but he looked around and saw some
sweats; a pair of pants and a hoodie. They were probably brought in by Taecyeon,
but he didn't bother to think about it. He just wanted to go home. He rushed to
put them on and looked at his only venue of escape: the window.
He was barefoot, but struggled to open the window and climb out. He could hear
the echo of banging on the door as hospital security tried to push through, so
he took a risk and jumped. Two floors and a trash heap sat between him and
freedom. Stumbling into the night, he crossed an empty street to a back alley
behind the hospital. His head wasn't fractured, but he felt blood come out of
his thigh, punctured by a piece of metal after he fell. Medications could only
last so long and the pain began to spear at his senses as he got deeper into the city.
He passed a nightclub, then a shady street corner, then a block that was
surrounded in complete darkness.
"Fuck...this was such a stupid idea."
He didn't remember the hospital, or some of the landmarks. Proof of his fleeing memory hit him hard as he hit another block deep into a shady looking neighborhood. He sunk down near a wall in some undetermined corner, trying to stay as warm and
as hidden as possible.
"This was so...stupid..."
He began to shiver, but dozed off into a deep sleep. Chansung had been in messes like this before, tearing up the town on random weekends, but he didn't know what to do in that moment of tired panic. He wanted his brother and a warm meal from his mother; even a scolding from his father seemed nice at the time. He sniffled as he thought of fonder moments, and let the thoughts lull him to sleep in that dank, dark corner.
---
"Yo Kwon, who is he? He's new. Doesn't look all cracked out either."
The larger man examined a body that lay in a corner those few hours before sunrise.
"I don't know, who do you think he is Min?"
"For the last time, the name's Sinatra. Give respect where it's due."
"I'm not calling you that dumb ass name-"
"He's a legend. What is your problem?"
"You sound more like Freddie."
"Like who?"
"Bohemian Rhapsody? ...the shit you sang the other night."
"Oh right. ...but I like Sinatra. He gots street cred..." He bent down to look
closer at the figure on the side of the street. "...and wait a minute, how are you going to ask me the same question I asked you? Would I ask you if I knew? He just looks familiar is all."
"Well I don't know him."
Chansung groaned.
"Shit," the larger one said, "he's waking up."
"You think Jin knows him?"
"Only one way to find out."
A gun, tucked away into the man's pants, was pulled out before Chansung was hit bluntly across the other side of his head, knocking him out again.
These two gentlemen of the inner-city streets were Kwon and Changmin, part-time lounge singers, and full time gangsters and looters.
They didn't recruit often, but Jin lead the team, holding up more than his own
share of fights and jobs. The two took his advice about looking for some new blood since one of their crew had been missing-in-action. They respected the kid; he gave them a home and a new
unit to call 'family.' There was just one major rule of thumb when it came to
collecting: if they're injured, they owed you something when they
were safe. Simple trade; I scratch your back, you scratch mine. The unfortunate
soul that Changmin lugged over his shoulder that day was none other than
Chansung.
---
"Hey..."
Chansung woke a last time, now with a thick piece of gauze wrapped around his
leg. The sweatpants were ripped and he was shirtless, though he was covered in a few
thick blankets.
"...morning sunshine. You want some breakfast?"
Chansung saw a lean figure sitting on a bench near the small bed he lay on. He
had a large smile, and his eyes disappeared into unassuming slits while he held
a pan full of food up to Chansung's chest. The rookie officer looked up at this
man shadily and pulled back on the bed, only to wince in pain as he felt the throb of his head and thigh.
"Bump your head there? We put some extra wrap on that too."
"Where...am I?"
"Safe. ...not bleeding too much anymore. ...warm. Like I asked, you hungry?"
He speared a sausage in the pan, but Chansung looked at it wearily.
"What...you think I abducted you? You can go. I've just been there before.
Look," he took a bite of the sausage and continued speaking with a full mouth,
"see? No poison."
Chansung took the food greedily, but not without eying the man that supposedly
saved his life. He ate in silence as the other man stood up and walked out of
the room. He was about Chansung's build, but a little taller. Looked about his age
too, but maybe a little older. Chansung couldn't be sure, as he tried to remind himself that he'd supposedly gained a few years.
The man came back in with a glass of juice, but Chansung still didn't take it. He sighed and took a large gulp before handing the cup over. As Chansung drank, the man began explaining himself.
"I'm Jin...and I have a proposition for you."
"...what? You said I could go-"
"No worries friend, you can. But I don't think you'll get too far looking like that. ...in a bit of trouble?" Chansung got really quiet and the man named Jin smiled, wide and bright. "Thought so..."
Jin got up to leave and Chansung to rest, but he turned back in the doorway.
"I'll let you stay here today, but if you want to go, hobble on out. But if you stay, well...let's just say that you don't want to be too indecisive too late."
"What happens if I am?" Chansung blurted.
All he had was indecision right then. Go home, say hi, end up back in hospital, a looney bin, or driving yourself crazy. Go out at all, end up lost. Stay with a perfect stranger who could end up crazy, or find out they're just a good samaritan. Jin's face became serious again as he answered calmly.
"Don't be."
He walked out and shut the door as Chansung chewed and thought.
Chansung woke up in the hospital for the second time, groggy but coherent in the
still of night. He shifted and saw an attending nurse in the corner, probably on
watch since his last attempt to free himself. As he shifted, he saw her
stirring, and immediately went to feigning sleep.
The nurse had been sitting there for hours, wanting a cigarette and a break and felt no shame in sharing her thoughts with the comatose patient.
"...ugh they always leave me with the nutcases..." she mumbled, "I need to leave or I'll lose my mind talking to you..."
She stretched in her chair and looked over at Chansung, ever the idea of
peaceful as he lay there.
"...at least you're still knocked out...I'm sure you won't miss me..."
She stepped out for a smoke, but Chansung waited a few seconds to slowly open
his eyes. He took the chance to rush and pull out the last few wires he was hooked up to. One in
particular monitored his heart rate, and he knew he would be in trouble once it
flat-lined.
"Shit."
Chansung cursed as soon as he heard the steady beep. He staggered hurriedly
toward the door as he heard footsteps, setting up the chair she previously sat
in underneath the handle. His head still hurt, but he looked around and saw some
sweats; a pair of pants and a hoodie. They were probably brought in by Taecyeon,
but he didn't bother to think about it. He just wanted to go home. He rushed to
put them on and looked at his only venue of escape: the window.
He was barefoot, but struggled to open the window and climb out. He could hear
the echo of banging on the door as hospital security tried to push through, so
he took a risk and jumped. Two floors and a trash heap sat between him and
freedom. Stumbling into the night, he crossed an empty street to a back alley
behind the hospital. His head wasn't fractured, but he felt blood come out of
his thigh, punctured by a piece of metal after he fell. Medications could only
last so long and the pain began to spear at his senses as he got deeper into the city.
He passed a nightclub, then a shady street corner, then a block that was
surrounded in complete darkness.
"Fuck...this was such a stupid idea."
He didn't remember the hospital, or some of the landmarks. Proof of his fleeing memory hit him hard as he hit another block deep into a shady looking neighborhood. He sunk down near a wall in some undetermined corner, trying to stay as warm and
as hidden as possible.
"This was so...stupid..."
He began to shiver, but dozed off into a deep sleep. Chansung had been in messes like this before, tearing up the town on random weekends, but he didn't know what to do in that moment of tired panic. He wanted his brother and a warm meal from his mother; even a scolding from his father seemed nice at the time. He sniffled as he thought of fonder moments, and let the thoughts lull him to sleep in that dank, dark corner.
---
"Yo Kwon, who is he? He's new. Doesn't look all cracked out either."
The larger man examined a body that lay in a corner those few hours before sunrise.
"I don't know, who do you think he is Min?"
"For the last time, the name's Sinatra. Give respect where it's due."
"I'm not calling you that dumb ass name-"
"He's a legend. What is your problem?"
"You sound more like Freddie."
"Like who?"
"Bohemian Rhapsody? ...the shit you sang the other night."
"Oh right. ...but I like Sinatra. He gots street cred..." He bent down to look
closer at the figure on the side of the street. "...and wait a minute, how are you going to ask me the same question I asked you? Would I ask you if I knew? He just looks familiar is all."
"Well I don't know him."
Chansung groaned.
"Shit," the larger one said, "he's waking up."
"You think Jin knows him?"
"Only one way to find out."
A gun, tucked away into the man's pants, was pulled out before Chansung was hit bluntly across the other side of his head, knocking him out again.
These two gentlemen of the inner-city streets were Kwon and Changmin, part-time lounge singers, and full time gangsters and looters.
They didn't recruit often, but Jin lead the team, holding up more than his own
share of fights and jobs. The two took his advice about looking for some new blood since one of their crew had been missing-in-action. They respected the kid; he gave them a home and a new
unit to call 'family.' There was just one major rule of thumb when it came to
collecting: if they're injured, they owed you something when they
were safe. Simple trade; I scratch your back, you scratch mine. The unfortunate
soul that Changmin lugged over his shoulder that day was none other than
Chansung.
---
"Hey..."
Chansung woke a last time, now with a thick piece of gauze wrapped around his
leg. The sweatpants were ripped and he was shirtless, though he was covered in a few
thick blankets.
"...morning sunshine. You want some breakfast?"
Chansung saw a lean figure sitting on a bench near the small bed he lay on. He
had a large smile, and his eyes disappeared into unassuming slits while he held
a pan full of food up to Chansung's chest. The rookie officer looked up at this
man shadily and pulled back on the bed, only to wince in pain as he felt the throb of his head and thigh.
"Bump your head there? We put some extra wrap on that too."
"Where...am I?"
"Safe. ...not bleeding too much anymore. ...warm. Like I asked, you hungry?"
He speared a sausage in the pan, but Chansung looked at it wearily.
"What...you think I abducted you? You can go. I've just been there before.
Look," he took a bite of the sausage and continued speaking with a full mouth,
"see? No poison."
Chansung took the food greedily, but not without eying the man that supposedly
saved his life. He ate in silence as the other man stood up and walked out of
the room. He was about Chansung's build, but a little taller. Looked about his age
too, but maybe a little older. Chansung couldn't be sure, as he tried to remind himself that he'd supposedly gained a few years.
The man came back in with a glass of juice, but Chansung still didn't take it. He sighed and took a large gulp before handing the cup over. As Chansung drank, the man began explaining himself.
"I'm Jin...and I have a proposition for you."
"...what? You said I could go-"
"No worries friend, you can. But I don't think you'll get too far looking like that. ...in a bit of trouble?" Chansung got really quiet and the man named Jin smiled, wide and bright. "Thought so..."
Jin got up to leave and Chansung to rest, but he turned back in the doorway.
"I'll let you stay here today, but if you want to go, hobble on out. But if you stay, well...let's just say that you don't want to be too indecisive too late."
"What happens if I am?" Chansung blurted.
All he had was indecision right then. Go home, say hi, end up back in hospital, a looney bin, or driving yourself crazy. Go out at all, end up lost. Stay with a perfect stranger who could end up crazy, or find out they're just a good samaritan. Jin's face became serious again as he answered calmly.
"Don't be."
He walked out and shut the door as Chansung chewed and thought.