[Fic] Choices (formerly Silver Thread) (2/?)

[ikangtvxq]

Title: Choices
Pairings: Yunho/Jaejoong/fic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: character death (later), teenage pregnancy, mild language
Genre: friendship, drama
Summary: A suicidal moron and a moronic martyr...

Prologue/ Preview ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ;

Remember Me pt. 2: Worth




Since that fateful day at the roof top, the two of us stuck together. Everything changed a little after that. I started smiling a little. I started laughing a little. I started gathering a lot of friends

Okay, that last part with the friends was a lie.

I was still the "emo kid," the "social outcast," the "weirdo," the "creep," the “suicidal-masochistic-psychopath-ignore-and-keep-on-walking…”

But at least, I finally had a friend. I had someone beside me. For once, my days went by not as bad as before. It actually got a little better. You stood by me against others and against my self. You stayed by my side whenever I sway at the point of self-destruction. It was the two of us against the world.

To have someone to share the burden with-I realized that was all I really ever wanted.

***
 It was a wonder how he and I clicked together like a puzzle. While we were both one of the quiet ones in class, we couldn’t be more different. People stayed away from him because he kept to himself, whereas people stayed away from me because I was detested. He wore tattered clothes because he had no money to buy new ones. I wear tattered clothes because my parents couldn’t be bothered with taking care of a murderer. He was alone because he stayed away from people. I was alone because people stayed away from me.

Yet no matter how different we were, he understood me and stood against those who hurt me until not long soon he started getting hurt, too. The lonely isolation and harassment I’ve struggled with daily soon included him. But he still stood by me like a stronghold I can cling to when despair and weakness gets too much. For a long time, I’ve wondered why.

And people call me a masochist?

*

I turned left of the hallways, then right. The antiseptic smell stung my nose as I walked as fast as I could through the hospital halls, trying to stop myself from cringing. I’ve always hated hospitals… ever since that day… The biggest mistake of my life…

A few more turns and glances at the numbers on the doors and I finally found the room I have been looking for. I opened it the door and walked in.

There he was sitting on the bed, arm heavily bound, head wrapped with bandages and face covered with bruises. As soon as he saw me, he waved an uncertain "Hi...?"

He knew what was coming. Oh, yes he did. I narrowed my eyes, walked to his bed, and - without warning or preamble or even a little guilt- smacked him on his bandaged head. Hard.

"Ow!” he cried. “The hell, man? That hurts!"

I warned him, I told him and even begged him to try his best to avoid being hurt, because I don’t want him to leave me and I’ve been alone for so long and he was my first friend in years and I have abandonment issues, thank you very much; and yet here his is-hurt.

"You’re covered with bruises! What the hell happened to you!?”

"Dammit," he said as he rubbed his head and eyed me with irritation. "I don’t need you mothering me, Jae. I’m a little too old for that. Don’t worry about it, alright?"

"’Don’t worry about it’? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?!" I yelled at him, incredulous.

"What’s the use? I already know I’m gorgeous. No need to prove it to myse-“ before he could finish his sentence, he again yelped in pain. “That freaking hurt! Are you trying to kill me!?"

My fist came in contact with his arm this time. Yes, the arm with the casket. Usually I wouldn't do that when he’s in good shape- he'd just hit me back ten times more painful. But why not use his currently immobilized situation to my advantage?

"What is there to kill? You look half dead already," I stared at him frustratedly. The urge to continue smacking him around, and then hugging him (manly hug, of course) to death was overwhelming. Who said concern was a good thing?

"What really happened?" I asked, quietly this time.

"I told you, nothing. It's nothing," he said as he dropped his body horizontally across the hospital bed, his left arm serving as his pillow. He looked dead tired, worried, and deep in thought, which doesn't happen unless something was really bothering him, and it was making me feel queasy and bothered, too.

I looked at his injuries and felt a twinge of annoyance that he won’t tell me why he got hurt. For the many months that I’ve known him, I knew he will pretty much tell me anything unless it was something really stupid or if he didn’t want me to feel bad; and I’m having a bad feeling it’s going to be the latter. It's either he fell down a huge plight of stairs with sharp rocks at the bottom, or he got into a fight and he got lost-badly. Falling down the stairs is pretty much fictional. And he wouldn't get into a fight unless...

"Wait... don't tell me... is it Junghoon again?" I asked him. But instead of answering right away, he heaved a heavy sigh and looked away.

Junghoon, that gangster-wannabe everybody feared, kept picking on me all my high school years because of reasons unknown. Me, being me, became one of his favorite targets. Now that I think about it, he’s one of the reasons why I was miserable, and why people always hesitate to come even a foot near me. I remember the first time Yunho actually saw him beat me up. He got really angry and threw a massive surprise punch at the dim-witted ape’s face, and I remember fearing for Yunho’s life, torn between cheering for his punch and screaming at him to run away and never look back. Junghoon owned the campus, people shake in fear of him. But Yunho went ahead and punched him anyway. Junghoon was going to MURDER him. No matter how much of a fighter Yunho was, I doubted that the two of us were any match for five really buffed, really big, really scary, really ugly guys who look like hybrids between a wrestler and a gorilla. They left us heavily beaten up in an alley, but not without being threatened to be beaten up again the next time they see us.

Of course, like the brave (or maybe moronic) man he is, Yunho didn't back down. He didn't hide in his house all day, he didn't run and hide when he sees the gorillas coming for us…. unlike me. I admired him for that. If it weren’t for him, I’d have been locking myself up in my room, drowning in self-pity and woes of life’s injustices. The first three months was pretty bad for the both of us. Torture for him because he always stood his ground no matter what happened. Anguish for me, because the guilt kept killing me each time he takes my place.

I sighed and dropped down on the bed beside him, heart suddenly dropping to the bottom of my feet. "He's back? I thought he forgot all about it. He hadn't bothered us for months now."

"Hah, as if,” he snorted. “As dumb as that gorilla is, he will never forget the only one person who broke his nose." He laughed in triumph… no, as if it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard, which made me cringe at the thought of him treating something so serious as a laughing matter.

"Just… just stop,” I couldn’t help but blurt out, unsettled and anxious and wanting to drown myself.

"Eh? Stop what?"

I had to say it. No matter how much I wanted him to stay, no matter how much I wanted to cling to the only friend I have, no matter how much I wanted to hold on to the only person who saw me and tried to help, I couldn’t bear watching him take the brunt of every misfortune that should be mine.

”I don’t want to be your friend anymore!” I forced myself to mouth the words, torn between slapping my mouth shut and letting go and taking everything I’ve said back.

His face immediately closed off, cold and unreadable, and he sat up. Dammit, I hate it when he does that. It makes me feel like I got the worst possible insult I could possibly dish out and gleefully dumped it all over him.

“Why?”he asked as he looked at me with pained eyes; the tone of his voice flat and lifeless, with a hint of cold beneath and lots of hurt beneath it.

"You’re getting hurt… because of me… All because of me…I hate it…"

His eyes softened, and he laid back down to the bed. I could almost see him invisibly sagging in relief. “I keep telling you, you don’t need to feel guilty.”

I sat beside him, guilty.“Tch. How can I not feel guilty when I see you like this?”I punched his stomach lightly, but he howled in pain and sat up immediately, hands flying to his midsection. He must have been really pounded during the fight. Great. I try to lighten up the mood and I still screw up.

"Sorry," I mumbled. “Damn, I just don’t like seeing you like this, Yunho.”

"I appreciate your concern, but I know what I’m doing!”he yelled, not quite angrily but nearly there. “And stop hitting me! I’m bruised enough as it is!”

"Sorry…" I muttered, cringing a bit.

He must have seen me cringe, for he sighed in exasperation. “Jaejoong,” he called, willing me to look at him. I did so reluctantly.

"Don't feel sorry, okay? You’re my friend-the first real friends I’ve ever had, and I’ll be damned if I don’t protect you. I want to. I need to. It keeps me living. I can take care of myself, so try to stop feeling guilty, alright?"

I just looked at him and sighed. “I really don’t understand you, but I’ll let that go for now.”

“I don’t expect you to understand, just accept. I’m hungry. Let’s go sneak out before Dr. Shim finds me.”

I shook my head at his attempt to change the subject. Might as well let it go. For now. “Who’s Dr. Shim?”I asked as he stood up and pulled me to my feet.

He scrunched his face. “Old grumpy man who knows no joys in life. Let’s go!”

“Why do you do this all for me?” Right after we sneaked out of the hospital and eaten at the cheapest stall we could find, we went straight to the rooftop of the Mathematics building where we first met (I think I could see a dent on the cement where Yunho tackled me), silently basking in the red orange glares of the setting sun that stained the sky, when I suddenly blurted out the question that has been plaguing my mind since the first day we met here.

He glanced at me momentarily, and with a wistful smile looked towards the setting sun.

"We're like two shipwrecked souls wandering in life without any purpose. We’re both alone, both unneeded... At this point, we might as well be considered dead... but… wouldn't it be nice to start living again? You need a companion to share your misery. I need someone to anchor me to life, someone to protect. Why not reach out each other and help start a new life? I’ll be your companion and you’ll be my anchor. It’s perfect.”

“But… why me?”

He looked thoughtful for a while, before shaking his head. “I don’t know. Why not?”

I couldn’t think of anything to answer that. Silence swallowed us for a while.

"What is more painful? Dying or being forgotten?" he suddenly voiced out.

"Why ask that all of the sudden?" I asked, caught off guard and confused by his question.

He looked at the sun in a daze, his mind seemingly distant, and his aura vulnerable. It was one of the few moments that I've caught him in this trance-like state.

"I have no family. When I die, no one to grieve over me," He didn't answer my question at all. He stayed in that dazed stupor, as if he hadn't heard my question at all.

“Why would you die?”I asked, wondering why his ramblings took on a morbid turn and why we suddenly exchanged roles. I was the suicidal one. Death was supposed to be my line of subject. He stole my line.

He continued to ignore me. "Memories fade away. Memories are easily replaced. I’ll just be another person who died and was forgotten.”

I didn’t answer. I had no answer. I couldn’t even think. Here he was, pouring out his soul to me for the first time in the many times I’ve complained to him about my crappy life, and I couldn’t even say a word of encouragement. I stared at him, completely at a loss.

“I’m here!”I blurted out the only thing that came into my mind.

Yunho jolted out of his thoughts and finally looked at me, confused.

“I’m here!”I repeated, willing him to understand what I couldn’t express at the moment. That I’m there for him as much as he was there for me, that I’d grieve for him if he dies, that I’ll remember him and cry for him and all that other mushy stuff that manly guys like me refuse to out rightly say to another guy.

He looked at me, and smiled. He understood. He looked back at the dimming sky and breathed out.

“Hey, Jae.”

“What?”

“You do know you’re my best friend, right?”

“I’m your only friend. That doesn’t tell me much.”

He laughed. I grinned. The oppressing atmosphere vanished, replaced with warmth and light and all things that is good on Earth.

“Hey, Jae.”

“Hm?”

“You’re the closest thing I have for a brother. I’m glad.”

I will never admit that I blushed and started smiling like a goof.

I didn’t know many things about him before that conversation. I knew he was an orphan. I knew he was poor. I knew he could pack a mean right hook. That was all. He knew everything about me; he was my confidante, my listener. I knew almost nothing about him, though it didn’t matter to me. But that conversation seemed to have opened a flood gate, and one day he randomly sat me down and started talking about his past. How he grew up as a homeless orphan, how he hated his parents for abandoning him, how he hated everybody for being happy when he wasn't. He told me how he became a delinquent at the young age, how he stole, how he bullied, how he beat up everyone that stood his way, how he became the kind of person I hated the most-like Junghoon. He talked about how angry he was, how frustrated, how he went through hell and back, how he almost lost his life in an encounter with the enemies he had made all over the years and ended up watching a friend die, ended up unintentionally taking a life, and spending a few years in jail; How that had made him look at his life as a whole and was digusted what he saw. How empty and crushingly alone he felt afterwards; useless, purposeless... How he, too, wanted to end his life, and how he decided to live anew.

We went through virtually the same trials, going through guilt and the desire to restart life again. The only difference was that I was weak and gave up, and he was strong and fought on.

We had a connection no other people had. Like he said, we were both alone. I needed someone to hold me up. He needed an anchor.

He looked at me after that, as if expecting me to up and go and throw back his friendship to his face.

“Well, we suit each other,” I told him, and he smiled so widely it hurt.

He accepted me despite my weakness, and I’d be damned if I don’t accept him because of his past.

We were two shipwrecked people reaching out to one another, trying to help the other one get out from the black waters we were drowning on.

As soon as we stepped outside the hospital, having finished his discharge forms, we were met with five burly guys cracking their knuckles as laughing maliciously as they closed in on us.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here…” The sneer on Junghoon’s face was ill-y suppressed and sickening. “Pretty boy and his boyfriend! This should be fun!”

As I tried to keep myself from trembling in fear, Yunho stiffened and stood in front of me.

“I’ll protect you,” he quietly whispered. “I’ll protect you.”

***

I was happy you were there for me. But I also felt sorry for you. I felt guilty, confused and frustrated. How could someone be happy getting in harm’s way for another person's account? Is being my friend worth risking your life? Me- a pathetic excuse for a person?

I remembered wondering what you meant when you said I was your anchor to life. I remembered wishing what you said to me that day, that I was the one that kept you living, wasn't true.

That day when you said you were dying made me realize that it was.

AN: I hate my laptop. I had a one-shot I was only minutes to posting here, and then it decided to go crazy and replace letters into detestable little squares that no one understands.

I did some minor (or maybe major) editing with Prologue and Chapter 1. Comments are very much appreciated ^^ Please tell me what's on your mind.