(for everyone) Lay Us Down
For: Everyone
Title: Lay Us Down
Pairings: Kai/D.O, non-romantic!Kai/Ravi, side!Xiumin/N
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5,416
Warnings: implied!Character death, VIXX
Summary: A year is a long time without a Drift partner. (PacRim!AU)
Author’s Note: I hope this different cup of KaiSoo doesn't taste too bad! (Also, this has a lot of references to Pacific Rim so if you haven’t seen it or know anything about it this will be a very confusing ride ;~;)
“Forget it,” Jongin spits out, throwing his worn staff to the ground as the last ranger-in-training skitters out of the Combat Room. “I’ll never find a Drifty.”
Aggravated, he strips off his shirt and slings it over his shoulder, plunking down at the edge of the ring. Behind him, he hears Junmyeon sigh and walk over, his loafers stopping in Jongin’s peripheral vision.
“You’re just angry,” the director soothes, sitting down next to him. “You’ll find someone again. We still have rangers we haven’t tried to match you up with yet.”
“I’ve already gone through three quarters of them in less than a week,” Jongin snaps. “You better get me someone good or I’ll leave. And don’t try to call me back again if I do. Obviously, if I can no longer Drift I’ll be of no use to the program.”
“That’s not true, Jongin,” Junmyeon says quietly but firmly. “You will always have a place here in the program, as a hero, as an experienced ranger. You have people who look up to you, people willing to learn from you and-”
“Not likely that I’ll teach them,” Jongin interrupts, standing. The tremors in his hands are here early this evening and he needs to get back to his room as soon as possible. “I’m turning in early tonight. Don’t come looking for me until trials tomorrow morning.”
“Already?” Junmyeon checks his watch and then glances at Jongin’s retreating back. “But it’s only five!”
“Well, I don’t feel like talking to you anymore and I’ve got nothing better to do,” Jongin says flippantly, balling his shaking hands into fists.
“But… but you haven’t had dinner yet!”
“I’m not hungry,” Jongin growls. His hands are starting to go numb and he just manages to grip the door and wrench it open. “I can take care of myself. Stop nagging.”
He slips out of the Kwoon, ignoring Junmyeon's cry of “Jongin!” and making a beeline for the living quarters.
Jongin once learned in the Jaeger Academy that tremors were part of the aftershocks of extensive Drifting. If left unattended- meaning one neglects contact with one’s Drift partner- the aching tremble would escalate into a harsh migraine and then painful hallucinations. It was, his instructor said, an agony that dragged into hours and days. But it was an experience recorded to only happen if Drifting had occurred beforehand. And no cause otherwise would elicit the same pattern of physical and mental pains.
So Jongin is confused because he has experienced these symptoms every night. And yet he has not Drifted for a year of nights.
He’s grieving more than he’d wish to admit.
After choking down a few sleeping pills that night, Jongin passes out in between hallucinations and falls into another of a different sort. It’s a dream he has every few nights when he’s not dreaming of flying off of a cliff. He dreams of Slingmouth. He dreams of a night of the last year, the last night he fought with Beta Thunder. He dreams of Kyungsoo.
His eyes cannot open, but the memory settles into his very pores. He feels the burn of a wound singe his leg to the bone, the sores on his back from the heavy gear of the Conn-pod that supports his limp body. He smells sweat clouding in his helmet, tastes blood on his tongue from biting it numb. He hears Beta Thunder groaning, feels it falling to its knees in the violent roar of the ocean as Slingmouth shrieks in victory. The havoc does not jostle him. The name grating in his throat does.
“K... Kyung... soo.”
At once, the empty stream in his mind pulses. The Drift awakens as Kyungsoo does and their thoughts realign.
"Jongin..." Kyungsoo croaks from his left somewhere. His eyes must open because Jongin sees his own burning, bleeding leg in his thought stream. It was still on fire; he remembers now. "Jongin!"
Jongin's own eyes still refuse to open, but he sees the collapsing jaeger around him through Kyungsoo's thoughts as the other looks about wildly. But Thunder and Slingmouth are, for once, not his main concern. His thoughts filter through so quickly that Jongin is dizzy from them. Kyungsoo eventually lands on one and reaches over to the control panel.
"LOCCENT," Kyungsoo says, voice shaking with desperation. "LOCCENT, can you hear me?"
The radio crackles dangerously but Luhan's voice reaches the submerged jaeger. "Kyungsoo? Thank God! We thought we couldn't reach you after you went under!"
"Luhan, I-"
"Where is Jongin?" Luhan asks in alarm as the monitors around him begin to come alive with their signal again, screaming with bad news. "His stats are dangerous, fuck! What's happened in the last minute?! Get out of th-"
"Luhan, listen to me!" Kyungsoo shouts, nearly lost as the storm waves continue to push at Thunder. Beyond, an even larger threat looms, ready to scoop up the breaking jaeger and launch it another mile farther. His voice tightens. "I'm sending Jongin up. He's in no condition to fight any longer he's... oh God he's... Just get him out of here as soon as his pod appears. I'll get Slingmouth out of the way and... send myself up after... after."
The mic switches hands. "Kyungsoo, I'm not having any pilots die on me for this." Jongin never figured out whose voice could grit like that. Tonight, he realizes, subconsciously, that it must have been Junmyeon. "Especially not one of my best. Not on my watch, Kyungsoo."
“Slingmouth is advancing, shit!” Luhan cries from behind him. “Tell ‘em to haul ass, now!”
"I know it's a fucked up plan but at least Jongin can get out of it!" Kyungsoo snarls, ignoring Luhan. Jongin feels the waves shove Thunder harder, coming like rhythmic stomps. Stomps...
"Kyung..."
“Less than a mile, Junmyeon! We need to do something! Get Meta over there faster!”
"Get Jongin out.” Kyungsoo is begging now. Why is Kyungsoo begging? He can’t remember… he can’t think his own thoughts anymore. “Please. For me.”
“Don’t do this to us, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon is begging too. Why is the director begging? “Don’t do this to Jong-”
Slingmouth roars from above.
“Get up, Beta Thunder!” Luhan screeches into the radio. “Please get up! We have Galaxy Meta on the way, just please hold on! Stay alive! Stay-!”
Something large claws at Jongin’s left arm. No… no, it was Thunder’s left arm. He groans in protest, but it claws harder… deeper… Its intensity crescendos like Luhan's monitors, like Kyungsoo's scream.
“No!”
Jongin awakens with a gasp, trembling on the floor. His leg doesn’t bleed, his arm is unbroken. His dorm smells of cold air, his tongue tastes of bitter dust. The knocks on his door calling him to sparring trials are neat and patient, his alarm clock chirps quietly.
His heart is dripping and it won’t scab over.
The trials of that day don't get any better than those of the day before. Despite his bad leg, Jongin beats most of the rookies to pulp, fueled by a strange frustration.
“2:0.”
“3:1.”
“5:0.”
“4:2.”
Even Junmyeon eventually forgoes scribbling down scores on his clipboard and simply dismisses each person after Jongin gives them a good few whacks.
After the last trainee retreats, Junmyeon waves them all off. "Dismissed. Head to simulation training. Tomorrow, trials will begin with Section E rangers so make sure-"
The doors to the Kwoon Combat Room burst open. ‘“W-wait!” A mousy-haired young man stumbles through, disheveled but dressed to be combat-ready. A fuzzy memory flashes at the back of his head, but Jongin pays it no mind. He’s distracted by the group of rookies behind him, from which Jongin hears one slap his forehead and mutter, “Goddammit, Wonshik.”
The apparently Goddamned Wonshik becomes even more flustered, almost upsetting over the weapons rack when he tugs a red staff from a shelf.
Ah… a potential Drift partner, Jongin thinks bitterly, watching him cross the room to Junmyeon and bow profusely.
“I’m sorry for my lateness, Director,” Wonshik says, the words tripping out of his mouth. His face is becoming red from embarrassment or bending down too quickly for bows or both; Jongin is not sure. “It won’t happen again.”
Jongin scoffs and the rest of the pilots-in-training take this as a cue to start snickering, making their fellow trainee blush deeper. Junmyeon turns and silences them all with a look.
“I believe you were all dismissed a moment ago,” he says pointedly. Their mirth disappears immediately and they shuffle their way out with reluctance, stalling at the weapons rack and hoping to see Wonshik get his ass handed to him. Jongin decides to grant their wish.
“Let’s get this over with,” he says, getting Wonshik’s attention. Junmyeon hurriedly backs out of the ring, leaving Wonshik trapped at its center as Jongin circles him leisurely, twirling his staff. Although the pilot startled him, Wonshik is quick to gather his bearings and mirror his steps. Soon, with his own smooth footwork, he’s walking along the other edge.
“You’re not bad for a rookie,” Jongin sneers, slowly closing in. Wonshik smiles, taking the sarcastic compliment, but doesn’t miss his opponent's movement.
“I’m a quick learner,” he replies with an easy shrug, shifting his staff in front of his face.
“I wouldn’t mark you as the quick type.” Jongin strikes with precision. He’s met with a wooden clack as Wonshik blocks. “Especially not after your little charade a moment ago.”
“The sleeping hours are still a bit hard to adjust to.” Jongin tries for his ribs. Clack. “There aren’t very many of them for us still in the Academy. You’ll have to forgive my tardiness this morning.”
Unprofessional, Jongin thinks with a snort as Wonshik makes a little bow of apology. He brings his staff down on him again and lands a hit on his shoulder, making Wonshik grunt and trip back.
"1:0," Jongin says. He hears Junmyeon shooing the loitering trainees out somewhere behind him, but his focus is on Wonshik’s disgruntlement. “Don’t take your eyes off me, Sleepy.”
Wonshik grinds his teeth and his hold visibly tightens on his staff. “Yes, sir.” He leaps forward, but takes a defensive stance.
For a while, they both try to shove the other back, Wonshik no longer timid and countering Jongin’s every attack with determination. Clack. Clack. Clack.
“Ha!” Jongin jabs at him again and hits his stomach, forcing an “oof!” out of his opponent. “2:0, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Stop… stop nicknaming me,” Wonshik growls between pants. Fired up, he swings for Jongin’s hip, his first bold offensive move.
“Some killjoy you a-” Wonshik’s staff comes down hard on Jongin’s, the impact shaking him to his core. And a switch flicks in his head. Wonshik's sparring style is so familiar all of the sudden, it knocks the breath out of Jongin. How did he not realize sooner?
The rookie is always a step too close, as if he is the smaller of them and needs to close in quicker, nearer. But his stance is solid, not light-footed, and seems as if rooted to the earth. And he strikes like a viper. He strikes like Kyungsoo. He spars almost exactly as Kyungsoo would, with the same quirks most pilots do not have in the ring.
Jongin is sparring with a very echo of Do Kyungsoo.
Jongin’s mind is whirling and his body is in shock. When Wonshik manages to nab him in the waist, he only stumbles back and stares at him. He stares hard, willing his vision to double and make Kyungsoo appear before him with the same, rooted stance, the same expression of triumph. He won't believe it until he sees him again.
“Um… s-sir?” Wonshik’s voice shatters apart Jongin’s illusory thoughts and makes him refocus. Wonshik. It was Wonshik the rookie using an odd sparring style. Not Kyungsoo.
“That was a brilliant spar! Fantastic!” Junmyeon crows, shutting the door on the last loitering trainee and strides over to the pair of stiff rangers. “You’re an absolute match! Jongin has never-”
“Where,” Jongin interrupts hollowly, eyes moving down to Wonshik’s hands on his weapon. “Where did you learn that form?”
“I-I’m sorry?”
“Jongin-”
“Your sparring form,” Jongin spits with sudden impatience, eyes darting up back to Wonshik’s bewildered ones. His body begins to come alive from his shut-down, pumping with fear, anger, confusion. He isn’t sure anymore. “Where. Did. You. Learn. That. Sparring form.”
Wonshik’s face drains and Jongin knows he must understand the question. He steps closer and continues, dropping his voice so Junmyeon doesn’t hear it.
“Where? From whom?” he whispers with more control. “Who taught you to move like he did?”
“I don’t know what you’re-”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, rookie!” Jongin hisses, grabbing a fistful of Wonshik’s tanktop. “It’s not a fucking coincidence you show up for my combat trials and try to bang me up with my own Drift partner's sparring style. You think it's funny, Snoozles? You like throwing me off?"
Wonshik’s confusion disappears and he becomes indignant at Jongin’s words, shoving back at him. “No! Of course not! This wasn’t… I’m not…”
He makes a noise of frustration and gives Junmyeon a quick look. Jongin doesn’t miss the glance and turns on the director, lip curling even higher in distaste.
“Oh, and Junmyeon plays a part in this as well?” Jongin asks with mock delight. “Well, isn’t this just a great big ball of shit rolling downhill?”
“Jongin, don’t blow this up.” Junmyeon is trying to use his 9th Director of the South Korean Jaeger Program voice. “Kyungsoo... mentored him.”
“That’s a lie,” Jongin dismisses immediately. He returns his glare to Wonshik. “I’ve never seen you in his thoughts.”
Wonshik’s face falls and he droops visably. The fuzzy memory comes back with a vengeance and staring at the trainee’s crestfallen expression, Jongin begins to see it clear. He's wrong and he has seen this face in Drift, flitting around in the back of Kyungsoo's mind. But Jongin is not ready to face the fact.
“No,” he grits. “You’re lying.”
“His compatibility with you was never guaranteed,” Junmyeon continues, his voice almost defensive. “But we had to look into him as a potential partner for you after… after…”
Wonshik takes a shaky breath at this and Jongin finally lets him go. Silence sweeps through the Kwoon as they all feel a ghost of the past claw at their throats.
“I’m not having this conversation,” Jongin says finally, voice barely audible. His hands tremble with the thoughts echoing mockingly in his head and he drops his staff to the ground with a thud. “I can’t- I-”
Jongin has another set of trials to go through in the afternoon, but the Combat Room is morphing into a fanged monster; he won’t stay another minute. He rushes out for the second time in less than twelve hours and begins to count the amount of pills it will take to knock him dead until the next morning.
Kyungsoo wretches off his helmet and reaches over to Jongin, hanging semi-conscious off the Conn-pod gear like a bloody, black rag. His heart twists with the sad notion that he’ll see him last like this. Not strong Jongin, not smiling Jongin, not peaceful Jongin, but broken Jongin. The stinging tears finally spill over.
“I’m sorry,” he sobs, taking off Jongin’s helmet as well. He pulls his partner in and kisses his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips. “I am so sorry beyond belief, Jongin.”
Kyungsoo presses against him hard, wishing he can take all of Jongin in, wishing he can hide him in his own skin and protect him. But Slingmouth’s shriek tells him it’s a hopeless idea of desperation. He knows if he doesn’t let go now, he won’t find strength to fight off the kaiju, to truly protect Jongin. And so he squeezes him close one last time.
Kyungsoo thinks of everything he’ll miss. He thinks of his coastal home, where he and Wonshik had grown up before kaijus. He thinks of the Jaeger Academy of Tokyo, Japan, where he met Baekhyun and Minseok. He thinks of the South Korean Shatterdome, where he created Beta Thunder, where he learned to love Jongin. He thinks of the home he’s constructed for himself with the ones he holds most dear.
Kyungsoo lets go.
Jongin dreams again of a burning leg and a torn arm. Only tonight, his mind is strangely quiet and he’s lying prone on something soft. A hospital bed, it felt like. He can still feel his singed suit clinging to his battered limbs. His sweat still runs- sticky, liquid fire stinging in his wounds- and his limbs still ache- sore with blisters and fresh scars- but finally, finally, his eyes manage to flutter open. And the world is blank white around him. It’s a heavy contrast to the impression of chaos he received from Kyungsoo’s mind in the pod.
A chill tingles down Jongin’s spine. Something is wrong. He’s no longer where the chaos is. He’s no longer where Kyungsoo is. But they are together.
Jongin fights against the burn and struggles to sit up, suddenly dizzy with adrenaline. Kyungsoo is still in the midst of the battle, still engaged with Beta Thunder and still fighting against Slingmouth. And this is very wrong.
“No no no,” he gasps, making to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He forgets momentarily about his injury and goes tumbling onto the floor when he puts pressure on it, crying out at the shot of fiery pain twisting up his leg. At his shout, the door to his infirmary room swings open and a male nurse rushes to his side.
"Please, you've only just gotten here!" the nurse frets, shifting Jongin carefully to rest on his right side. "Come, back to be-"
"Where is he?" Jongin asks, shoving the hands away and dragging himself forward to reach the door. Beyond it, he sees the metallic beginnings of a typical hallway in the South Korean Shatterdome. "Where is Kyungsoo?!"
"You're in no condition to move!" the nurse screeches, scurrying over and stopping Jongin with a hand on his good shoulder.
"Get off of me!" Jongin snarls, pushing the medic away. His right hand reaches and grasps the door. "I'm going to find him."
He hauls his body up by his grip on the door, grunting. The left side of his body is completely useless, hanging limply as he stumbles out leaning on the right wall, but he needs to find Kyungsoo. Jongin hardly remembers what went on before he passed out, but he remembers distinctly Kyungsoo deciding on a flawed course of action, one he didn't plan on getting himself out of. Jongin forces himself to move faster, needing to find Kyungsoo, needing to see him, touch him. He moves faster even as his body shrieks at him not to, faster still.
Galaxy Meta was not a jaeger made for strength. It was one made for lithe. It wouldn't stand a fight with Slingmouth alone. But it doesn't stop its pilots from demanding to be the rescue crew for Beta Thunder.
"It's our place," Hakyeon simply says and Minseok agrees with a short nod. No one questions it. And so they're strapped in and sent off.
The drop site is far from the Shatterdome, and every moment is spent in tense silence in the jaeger. The Drift hums between Hakyeon and Minseok, an current of understanding and of something grimmer, solemner.
When they arrive at the drop-off site, it's for a scene they hoped least for and yet are relieved to see.
Illuminated in Meta's large headlight, Slingmouth's battered body succumbs slowly to the ocean foam. But he does not die in vain. A sweep of their heads reveals an equally battered Beta Thunder struggling to stay upright. But its attempts are futile; the jaeger has lost two limbs and a hole gapes in its abdomen. Its structural support is crumbling before Meta's very eyes, violently throwing out electric sparks
"No, please no," Hakyeon pleads under his breath. At the same time, Minseok jabs the control panel and barks, "LOCCENT, give me Kyungsoo's stats!"
"He's conscious," Luhan replies tightly. "But he's bleeding heavily. Get him out of there before Beta Thunder collapses."
"Roger."
The helicopters just start releasing their claws when Kyungsoo comes on the comm.
"N-no," he coughs. "Stay... stay out of the water!"
The helicopters hesitate, still suspending Galaxy Meta in the air above the turning ocean. Hakyeon lets out a cry of rage and jabs the communications panel. "We're saving you whether you like it or not, you punk! Drop us down, LOCCENT!"
“Don’t… do not drop them,” Kyungsoo repeats, raising Beta Thunder’s remaining arm up to stop the helicopters from advancing or dropping. “Hakyeon… I’ve got live wires hanging out in the open and… and when Beta’s framing collapses and we hit the water… You can’t save me. I’m... sorry.”
“We can’t watch you die!” Minseok says angrily, his voice cracking slightly towards the end of his sentence. “We still have time. We can still get you out of the jaeger. We… we…”
“To… to my knowledge, there are already electric currents in the water,” Kyungsoo says, leaving out that he only knows this because he can feel the current tasing him, growing stronger every inch Beta Thunder sinks into the water. On its knees, the ocean water laps dangerously along the edge of the jaeger’s abdominal depression. “I’m nuclear, but Galaxy Meta is digital. You… you won’t last a second. You’d be defying orders, coming after me... killing yourselves.”
Minseok and Hakyeon fall silent and even LOCCENT’s usual commotion of arguing technicians quiets. Only the ocean growls between them for a while, the comm buzzing with defeat.
Kyungsoo heaves a long sigh, dropping Beta’s arm.
“So… so this is it, then,” he breathes. “This really is it.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Minseok says, letting out his own sigh. On his left, Hakyeon hiccups on a sob and reaches for him. Minseok grabs his hand and grips it like he would a lifeline. “God, Kyungsoo…”
“I... I don’t have much time, do I?” Beta Thunder groans and begins to tip forward, in slow motion, unable to fight the sea any longer.
“You do,” Minseok says, words trembling without conviction. “You… you have all the time in the world.”
“If… if there’s anything you want us to pass on…” Hakyeon takes a shaky breath. “Anything that you want to say…” Minseok squeezes tighter.
“Pl- please just… take care of... yourselves. Take... take c-care of them.” Beta Thunder groans and sinks lower still. “Tell Jongin I’ll… I’ll be okay and tell him to keep him safe… Tell him to keep Wonsh-”
Beta Thunder's radio signal goes out for good as the Conn pod sinks under, caged by electric light.
Time is up.
"Keep him safe."
Jongin is on fire when he awakens, unable to separate his dreams from reality. His body seizes with pain, like he’s being tased, but it’s not the physical agony that has him reeling. It’s the unfamiliar words he tastes on his tongue, the strange revelation he’s met in his nightmare. And he only knows one who can tell him more.
Knocking on Hakyeon’s door is strange. For one, Jongin hasn’t sought Hakyeon out for a long time. The last few times he did, he hadn’t ever bothered to knock. They had once known each other’s key codes and frequently burst into each other’s rooms to complain or ramble when their Drift partners were busy. But it was a long time ago that they were close, so seeking out Hakyeon is very, very strange.
The door swings open on Jongin’s third knock to reveal Hakyeon clad in a large t-shirt and boxers. “Sanghyuk, I told you that you didn’t have to- Oh! Jongin.”
Hakyeon’s face of annoyance becomes light surprise. He only hesitates a moment, however, before smiling. “Hey.”
“I- er, is this a good time?” Jongin asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. For the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel... angry, just lost. It’s a new feeling and he’s not sure how to deal with it in front of Hakyeon.
Hakyeon waves off his attempt at concern. “It’s fine, no problem. Sorry, I just thought you were, uh, someone else. Junmyeon and Minseok never knock and you never…”
Jongin looks down at his shoes. “I never come by anymore. I know.”
Hakyeon reaches out and squeezes his arm. “Well, you’ve come by today and I’m not going to just leave you out here.” He starts to tug him inside. “Come in.”
When Jongin steps in the room, it’s just as he remembered it a year or so ago. Mismatched decorations Hakyeon’s scraped up are hanging on the narrow walls and little, folded paper creations are scattered all over the room. Even the old, stuffed ladybug Jongin often hugged still lies on his bed.
“So how are you?” Hakyeon asks, plopping down on his mattress. He pats the space next to him, inviting Jongin over.
“I could be worse,” Jongin replies cryptically. When he sits, he finally gives in to the urge to cuddle the ladybug and tentatively reaches for it. Hakyeon can’t help a smile.
“I heard you found a rookie that matched you,” the older pilot says, cocking his head in interest. Jongin feels a first twist of distaste sour his morning mood.
“Apparently,” he answers with a slight frown, squishing an antennae between his fingers. “Junmyeon didn’t give a clear okay because I… well, he’s probably set up a Drifting session already. He said he was an absolute match.”
“You don’t seem happy to have found a match,” Hakyeon points out, mirroring the downturn of Jongin’s mouth. Jongin starts to feel even worse, squeezing the ladybug harder. "Why is that?"
“I just... It..." Jongin wants to tell Hakyeon what happened. He wants to be open with him again, tell him all the embarrassing things he used to tell him. But he feels all too self-conscious suddenly. And it frustrates him, that a barrier has grown. Everything frustrates him.
"It's okay," Hakyeon says softly, patting his hand. "If you don't want to tell me."
"I'm... I'm sorry," Jongin mutters. An apology seems appropriate.
"It's okay. Of course it’s okay," Hakyeon repeats with a reassuring smile. He jokes lightly, “Maybe I should start with a different question next time.”
Jongin gives him a tentative smile back. "Like what?"
“Well, perhaps I'll ask why you came to see me today,” Hakyeon says. He blushes slightly. “I mean… just… just an assumption that you had, er, another reason to see me other than wanting... company.”
Jongin nods with some reluctance and swallows down what doubt he has about bringing this to Hakyeon. He has to ask. He has to know. “Yeah."
He clears his throat in sudden discomfort, but pushes on. "I... I wanted to ask you something about… K-Kyungsoo’s death.”
He almost swears at his little stutter, but his tongue feels like it’s caught fire so he doesn't dare say more.
Hakyeon lips part slightly, taking in a shallow breath. “Kyung… soo?”
“I know,” Jongin blurts out, the tension practically searing him. “I know I told you once never to tell me anything about... what happened, but there’s something I saw when I was… there’s something I need to know about… a-about…”
He trails off, voice small and choked. He pulls the ladybug closer to his chest, where unseen hands begin to tear a hole.
“...What do you want to know?” The strange, hollow quality to Hakyeon’s voice reminds Jongin that he is not the only one haunted by the past. Hakyeon carries a burden as well.
“Was there anything he… said?” Jongin breathes. The words in his dream surface, but he won’t believe them until Hakyeon tells him so.
“There were… some things,” Hakyeon says, letting out a sigh. Some of the tension leaves him, replaced by heavy defeat. He gives Jongin a sad, aged smile. “Some things I should have told you long ago, no matter how much you’d hate me for it. For telling you about his death.”
Hakyeon reaches for Jongin’s hand again and squeezes it, continuing. “He didn’t have… much time.” The older pilot disguises the crack in his voice as a small cough. “He wanted you to know that he’s okay. That… that he will be okay.”
The script is in Jongin’s head. Hakyeon seems to be reading right off of it.
“And he… he wants you to take care of someone.” Hakyeon’s voice is just a whisper. "His brother, Wonshik. He's a rookie in the program."
"How... how had I not known about him?" Jongin asks with barely a breath. He's lying. He's known him this whole time. He's known him for years, as a R.A.B.I.T. Kyungsoo often chased in the Drift, as a crying little bundle Kyungsoo never consoled with a name. He was the messy-haired youth of a memory tinted with betrayal, hurt, worry. He was the only subject Kyungsoo never opened up about.
“Minseok told me Wonshik tried to cut him off,” Hakyeon replies, looking down at their clasped hands, one over the other. “Wonshik wanted to be a pilot as well and Kyungsoo wanted him to be... safe.”
Jongin doesn't stay with Hakyeon for much longer after that. Not so much because he doesn't want to, but because he was right when he assumed Junmyeon would set up a Drifting session for him and Wonshik as soon as possible. And because Junmyeon does not find Jongin in his room, he sends him the message over intercom.
"Ranger Kim Jongin, please report to Nova Danger's Conn pod in Hangar 2 immediately. You have three minutes."
Hakyeon turns to the speaker in his room. "Nova Danger? The new jaeger? Why would you have t- Oh."
"Junmyeon likes to jump right into things," Jongin mutters. Hakyeon laughs lightly, the sadness that had plagued their conversation before dissipating a bit.
"Well, I better let you off now," Hakyeon sighs. He pats Jongin's shoulder as they get up together. "Don't be too hard on the rookie today. Give him a chance. He's not Kyungsoo, after all.”
"A-alright." Jongin doesn't tell Hakyeon that he's almost Kyungsoo. Instead he turns and sets the ladybug back on the bed reluctantly. He'll have to come back and visit it later.
"Come see me again," Hakyeon urges as Jongin steps out the door. "I've... I've missed your company."
Jongin cracks a smile. "I have too."
Nova Danger’s drivesuit feels awkward and slippery on Jongin’s skin.
“This feels wrong,” he mutters to himself, plucking at the navy material. He’s less physically uncomfortable than he is mentally. But there’s no backing out now. He heard the words and he’ll make a promise to him. To Kyungsoo. To… himself.
Another navy-clad figure trips into the Conn pod, wires dangling from his suit and hair tousled beyond repair. Not a look Kyungsoo would ever sport, but perhaps one a younger Jongin often wore.
Wonshik bows and opens his mouth to blubber apologies, but Jongin beats him to it.
“Late again, Sleepy,” he says with a little twist in his lip. “Your brother never disappointed me like this.”
Wonshik jumps at the mention of his brother but recovers, frowning back. “I-I’m not disappointing!”
“You are proving to be. Hurry up and show me some dedication if you want to be better than Kyungsoo.”
His hands tremble lightly at the name, but no blood comes up his throat. His heart is a leaking raft, cheap, battered, lost, but slowly, surely making its way out of the ocean’s tempest.
And he thinks he’s grieving just as much as he needs to.
Title: Lay Us Down
Pairings: Kai/D.O, non-romantic!Kai/Ravi, side!Xiumin/N
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5,416
Warnings: implied!Character death, VIXX
Summary: A year is a long time without a Drift partner. (PacRim!AU)
Author’s Note: I hope this different cup of KaiSoo doesn't taste too bad! (Also, this has a lot of references to Pacific Rim so if you haven’t seen it or know anything about it this will be a very confusing ride ;~;)
“Forget it,” Jongin spits out, throwing his worn staff to the ground as the last ranger-in-training skitters out of the Combat Room. “I’ll never find a Drifty.”
Aggravated, he strips off his shirt and slings it over his shoulder, plunking down at the edge of the ring. Behind him, he hears Junmyeon sigh and walk over, his loafers stopping in Jongin’s peripheral vision.
“You’re just angry,” the director soothes, sitting down next to him. “You’ll find someone again. We still have rangers we haven’t tried to match you up with yet.”
“I’ve already gone through three quarters of them in less than a week,” Jongin snaps. “You better get me someone good or I’ll leave. And don’t try to call me back again if I do. Obviously, if I can no longer Drift I’ll be of no use to the program.”
“That’s not true, Jongin,” Junmyeon says quietly but firmly. “You will always have a place here in the program, as a hero, as an experienced ranger. You have people who look up to you, people willing to learn from you and-”
“Not likely that I’ll teach them,” Jongin interrupts, standing. The tremors in his hands are here early this evening and he needs to get back to his room as soon as possible. “I’m turning in early tonight. Don’t come looking for me until trials tomorrow morning.”
“Already?” Junmyeon checks his watch and then glances at Jongin’s retreating back. “But it’s only five!”
“Well, I don’t feel like talking to you anymore and I’ve got nothing better to do,” Jongin says flippantly, balling his shaking hands into fists.
“But… but you haven’t had dinner yet!”
“I’m not hungry,” Jongin growls. His hands are starting to go numb and he just manages to grip the door and wrench it open. “I can take care of myself. Stop nagging.”
He slips out of the Kwoon, ignoring Junmyeon's cry of “Jongin!” and making a beeline for the living quarters.
Jongin once learned in the Jaeger Academy that tremors were part of the aftershocks of extensive Drifting. If left unattended- meaning one neglects contact with one’s Drift partner- the aching tremble would escalate into a harsh migraine and then painful hallucinations. It was, his instructor said, an agony that dragged into hours and days. But it was an experience recorded to only happen if Drifting had occurred beforehand. And no cause otherwise would elicit the same pattern of physical and mental pains.
So Jongin is confused because he has experienced these symptoms every night. And yet he has not Drifted for a year of nights.
He’s grieving more than he’d wish to admit.
After choking down a few sleeping pills that night, Jongin passes out in between hallucinations and falls into another of a different sort. It’s a dream he has every few nights when he’s not dreaming of flying off of a cliff. He dreams of Slingmouth. He dreams of a night of the last year, the last night he fought with Beta Thunder. He dreams of Kyungsoo.
His eyes cannot open, but the memory settles into his very pores. He feels the burn of a wound singe his leg to the bone, the sores on his back from the heavy gear of the Conn-pod that supports his limp body. He smells sweat clouding in his helmet, tastes blood on his tongue from biting it numb. He hears Beta Thunder groaning, feels it falling to its knees in the violent roar of the ocean as Slingmouth shrieks in victory. The havoc does not jostle him. The name grating in his throat does.
“K... Kyung... soo.”
At once, the empty stream in his mind pulses. The Drift awakens as Kyungsoo does and their thoughts realign.
"Jongin..." Kyungsoo croaks from his left somewhere. His eyes must open because Jongin sees his own burning, bleeding leg in his thought stream. It was still on fire; he remembers now. "Jongin!"
Jongin's own eyes still refuse to open, but he sees the collapsing jaeger around him through Kyungsoo's thoughts as the other looks about wildly. But Thunder and Slingmouth are, for once, not his main concern. His thoughts filter through so quickly that Jongin is dizzy from them. Kyungsoo eventually lands on one and reaches over to the control panel.
"LOCCENT," Kyungsoo says, voice shaking with desperation. "LOCCENT, can you hear me?"
The radio crackles dangerously but Luhan's voice reaches the submerged jaeger. "Kyungsoo? Thank God! We thought we couldn't reach you after you went under!"
"Luhan, I-"
"Where is Jongin?" Luhan asks in alarm as the monitors around him begin to come alive with their signal again, screaming with bad news. "His stats are dangerous, fuck! What's happened in the last minute?! Get out of th-"
"Luhan, listen to me!" Kyungsoo shouts, nearly lost as the storm waves continue to push at Thunder. Beyond, an even larger threat looms, ready to scoop up the breaking jaeger and launch it another mile farther. His voice tightens. "I'm sending Jongin up. He's in no condition to fight any longer he's... oh God he's... Just get him out of here as soon as his pod appears. I'll get Slingmouth out of the way and... send myself up after... after."
The mic switches hands. "Kyungsoo, I'm not having any pilots die on me for this." Jongin never figured out whose voice could grit like that. Tonight, he realizes, subconsciously, that it must have been Junmyeon. "Especially not one of my best. Not on my watch, Kyungsoo."
“Slingmouth is advancing, shit!” Luhan cries from behind him. “Tell ‘em to haul ass, now!”
"I know it's a fucked up plan but at least Jongin can get out of it!" Kyungsoo snarls, ignoring Luhan. Jongin feels the waves shove Thunder harder, coming like rhythmic stomps. Stomps...
"Kyung..."
“Less than a mile, Junmyeon! We need to do something! Get Meta over there faster!”
"Get Jongin out.” Kyungsoo is begging now. Why is Kyungsoo begging? He can’t remember… he can’t think his own thoughts anymore. “Please. For me.”
“Don’t do this to us, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon is begging too. Why is the director begging? “Don’t do this to Jong-”
Slingmouth roars from above.
“Get up, Beta Thunder!” Luhan screeches into the radio. “Please get up! We have Galaxy Meta on the way, just please hold on! Stay alive! Stay-!”
Something large claws at Jongin’s left arm. No… no, it was Thunder’s left arm. He groans in protest, but it claws harder… deeper… Its intensity crescendos like Luhan's monitors, like Kyungsoo's scream.
“No!”
Jongin awakens with a gasp, trembling on the floor. His leg doesn’t bleed, his arm is unbroken. His dorm smells of cold air, his tongue tastes of bitter dust. The knocks on his door calling him to sparring trials are neat and patient, his alarm clock chirps quietly.
His heart is dripping and it won’t scab over.
The trials of that day don't get any better than those of the day before. Despite his bad leg, Jongin beats most of the rookies to pulp, fueled by a strange frustration.
“2:0.”
“3:1.”
“5:0.”
“4:2.”
Even Junmyeon eventually forgoes scribbling down scores on his clipboard and simply dismisses each person after Jongin gives them a good few whacks.
After the last trainee retreats, Junmyeon waves them all off. "Dismissed. Head to simulation training. Tomorrow, trials will begin with Section E rangers so make sure-"
The doors to the Kwoon Combat Room burst open. ‘“W-wait!” A mousy-haired young man stumbles through, disheveled but dressed to be combat-ready. A fuzzy memory flashes at the back of his head, but Jongin pays it no mind. He’s distracted by the group of rookies behind him, from which Jongin hears one slap his forehead and mutter, “Goddammit, Wonshik.”
The apparently Goddamned Wonshik becomes even more flustered, almost upsetting over the weapons rack when he tugs a red staff from a shelf.
Ah… a potential Drift partner, Jongin thinks bitterly, watching him cross the room to Junmyeon and bow profusely.
“I’m sorry for my lateness, Director,” Wonshik says, the words tripping out of his mouth. His face is becoming red from embarrassment or bending down too quickly for bows or both; Jongin is not sure. “It won’t happen again.”
Jongin scoffs and the rest of the pilots-in-training take this as a cue to start snickering, making their fellow trainee blush deeper. Junmyeon turns and silences them all with a look.
“I believe you were all dismissed a moment ago,” he says pointedly. Their mirth disappears immediately and they shuffle their way out with reluctance, stalling at the weapons rack and hoping to see Wonshik get his ass handed to him. Jongin decides to grant their wish.
“Let’s get this over with,” he says, getting Wonshik’s attention. Junmyeon hurriedly backs out of the ring, leaving Wonshik trapped at its center as Jongin circles him leisurely, twirling his staff. Although the pilot startled him, Wonshik is quick to gather his bearings and mirror his steps. Soon, with his own smooth footwork, he’s walking along the other edge.
“You’re not bad for a rookie,” Jongin sneers, slowly closing in. Wonshik smiles, taking the sarcastic compliment, but doesn’t miss his opponent's movement.
“I’m a quick learner,” he replies with an easy shrug, shifting his staff in front of his face.
“I wouldn’t mark you as the quick type.” Jongin strikes with precision. He’s met with a wooden clack as Wonshik blocks. “Especially not after your little charade a moment ago.”
“The sleeping hours are still a bit hard to adjust to.” Jongin tries for his ribs. Clack. “There aren’t very many of them for us still in the Academy. You’ll have to forgive my tardiness this morning.”
Unprofessional, Jongin thinks with a snort as Wonshik makes a little bow of apology. He brings his staff down on him again and lands a hit on his shoulder, making Wonshik grunt and trip back.
"1:0," Jongin says. He hears Junmyeon shooing the loitering trainees out somewhere behind him, but his focus is on Wonshik’s disgruntlement. “Don’t take your eyes off me, Sleepy.”
Wonshik grinds his teeth and his hold visibly tightens on his staff. “Yes, sir.” He leaps forward, but takes a defensive stance.
For a while, they both try to shove the other back, Wonshik no longer timid and countering Jongin’s every attack with determination. Clack. Clack. Clack.
“Ha!” Jongin jabs at him again and hits his stomach, forcing an “oof!” out of his opponent. “2:0, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Stop… stop nicknaming me,” Wonshik growls between pants. Fired up, he swings for Jongin’s hip, his first bold offensive move.
“Some killjoy you a-” Wonshik’s staff comes down hard on Jongin’s, the impact shaking him to his core. And a switch flicks in his head. Wonshik's sparring style is so familiar all of the sudden, it knocks the breath out of Jongin. How did he not realize sooner?
The rookie is always a step too close, as if he is the smaller of them and needs to close in quicker, nearer. But his stance is solid, not light-footed, and seems as if rooted to the earth. And he strikes like a viper. He strikes like Kyungsoo. He spars almost exactly as Kyungsoo would, with the same quirks most pilots do not have in the ring.
Jongin is sparring with a very echo of Do Kyungsoo.
Jongin’s mind is whirling and his body is in shock. When Wonshik manages to nab him in the waist, he only stumbles back and stares at him. He stares hard, willing his vision to double and make Kyungsoo appear before him with the same, rooted stance, the same expression of triumph. He won't believe it until he sees him again.
“Um… s-sir?” Wonshik’s voice shatters apart Jongin’s illusory thoughts and makes him refocus. Wonshik. It was Wonshik the rookie using an odd sparring style. Not Kyungsoo.
“That was a brilliant spar! Fantastic!” Junmyeon crows, shutting the door on the last loitering trainee and strides over to the pair of stiff rangers. “You’re an absolute match! Jongin has never-”
“Where,” Jongin interrupts hollowly, eyes moving down to Wonshik’s hands on his weapon. “Where did you learn that form?”
“I-I’m sorry?”
“Jongin-”
“Your sparring form,” Jongin spits with sudden impatience, eyes darting up back to Wonshik’s bewildered ones. His body begins to come alive from his shut-down, pumping with fear, anger, confusion. He isn’t sure anymore. “Where. Did. You. Learn. That. Sparring form.”
Wonshik’s face drains and Jongin knows he must understand the question. He steps closer and continues, dropping his voice so Junmyeon doesn’t hear it.
“Where? From whom?” he whispers with more control. “Who taught you to move like he did?”
“I don’t know what you’re-”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, rookie!” Jongin hisses, grabbing a fistful of Wonshik’s tanktop. “It’s not a fucking coincidence you show up for my combat trials and try to bang me up with my own Drift partner's sparring style. You think it's funny, Snoozles? You like throwing me off?"
Wonshik’s confusion disappears and he becomes indignant at Jongin’s words, shoving back at him. “No! Of course not! This wasn’t… I’m not…”
He makes a noise of frustration and gives Junmyeon a quick look. Jongin doesn’t miss the glance and turns on the director, lip curling even higher in distaste.
“Oh, and Junmyeon plays a part in this as well?” Jongin asks with mock delight. “Well, isn’t this just a great big ball of shit rolling downhill?”
“Jongin, don’t blow this up.” Junmyeon is trying to use his 9th Director of the South Korean Jaeger Program voice. “Kyungsoo... mentored him.”
“That’s a lie,” Jongin dismisses immediately. He returns his glare to Wonshik. “I’ve never seen you in his thoughts.”
Wonshik’s face falls and he droops visably. The fuzzy memory comes back with a vengeance and staring at the trainee’s crestfallen expression, Jongin begins to see it clear. He's wrong and he has seen this face in Drift, flitting around in the back of Kyungsoo's mind. But Jongin is not ready to face the fact.
“No,” he grits. “You’re lying.”
“His compatibility with you was never guaranteed,” Junmyeon continues, his voice almost defensive. “But we had to look into him as a potential partner for you after… after…”
Wonshik takes a shaky breath at this and Jongin finally lets him go. Silence sweeps through the Kwoon as they all feel a ghost of the past claw at their throats.
“I’m not having this conversation,” Jongin says finally, voice barely audible. His hands tremble with the thoughts echoing mockingly in his head and he drops his staff to the ground with a thud. “I can’t- I-”
Jongin has another set of trials to go through in the afternoon, but the Combat Room is morphing into a fanged monster; he won’t stay another minute. He rushes out for the second time in less than twelve hours and begins to count the amount of pills it will take to knock him dead until the next morning.
Kyungsoo wretches off his helmet and reaches over to Jongin, hanging semi-conscious off the Conn-pod gear like a bloody, black rag. His heart twists with the sad notion that he’ll see him last like this. Not strong Jongin, not smiling Jongin, not peaceful Jongin, but broken Jongin. The stinging tears finally spill over.
“I’m sorry,” he sobs, taking off Jongin’s helmet as well. He pulls his partner in and kisses his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips. “I am so sorry beyond belief, Jongin.”
Kyungsoo presses against him hard, wishing he can take all of Jongin in, wishing he can hide him in his own skin and protect him. But Slingmouth’s shriek tells him it’s a hopeless idea of desperation. He knows if he doesn’t let go now, he won’t find strength to fight off the kaiju, to truly protect Jongin. And so he squeezes him close one last time.
Kyungsoo thinks of everything he’ll miss. He thinks of his coastal home, where he and Wonshik had grown up before kaijus. He thinks of the Jaeger Academy of Tokyo, Japan, where he met Baekhyun and Minseok. He thinks of the South Korean Shatterdome, where he created Beta Thunder, where he learned to love Jongin. He thinks of the home he’s constructed for himself with the ones he holds most dear.
Kyungsoo lets go.
Jongin dreams again of a burning leg and a torn arm. Only tonight, his mind is strangely quiet and he’s lying prone on something soft. A hospital bed, it felt like. He can still feel his singed suit clinging to his battered limbs. His sweat still runs- sticky, liquid fire stinging in his wounds- and his limbs still ache- sore with blisters and fresh scars- but finally, finally, his eyes manage to flutter open. And the world is blank white around him. It’s a heavy contrast to the impression of chaos he received from Kyungsoo’s mind in the pod.
A chill tingles down Jongin’s spine. Something is wrong. He’s no longer where the chaos is. He’s no longer where Kyungsoo is. But they are together.
Jongin fights against the burn and struggles to sit up, suddenly dizzy with adrenaline. Kyungsoo is still in the midst of the battle, still engaged with Beta Thunder and still fighting against Slingmouth. And this is very wrong.
“No no no,” he gasps, making to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He forgets momentarily about his injury and goes tumbling onto the floor when he puts pressure on it, crying out at the shot of fiery pain twisting up his leg. At his shout, the door to his infirmary room swings open and a male nurse rushes to his side.
"Please, you've only just gotten here!" the nurse frets, shifting Jongin carefully to rest on his right side. "Come, back to be-"
"Where is he?" Jongin asks, shoving the hands away and dragging himself forward to reach the door. Beyond it, he sees the metallic beginnings of a typical hallway in the South Korean Shatterdome. "Where is Kyungsoo?!"
"You're in no condition to move!" the nurse screeches, scurrying over and stopping Jongin with a hand on his good shoulder.
"Get off of me!" Jongin snarls, pushing the medic away. His right hand reaches and grasps the door. "I'm going to find him."
He hauls his body up by his grip on the door, grunting. The left side of his body is completely useless, hanging limply as he stumbles out leaning on the right wall, but he needs to find Kyungsoo. Jongin hardly remembers what went on before he passed out, but he remembers distinctly Kyungsoo deciding on a flawed course of action, one he didn't plan on getting himself out of. Jongin forces himself to move faster, needing to find Kyungsoo, needing to see him, touch him. He moves faster even as his body shrieks at him not to, faster still.
Galaxy Meta was not a jaeger made for strength. It was one made for lithe. It wouldn't stand a fight with Slingmouth alone. But it doesn't stop its pilots from demanding to be the rescue crew for Beta Thunder.
"It's our place," Hakyeon simply says and Minseok agrees with a short nod. No one questions it. And so they're strapped in and sent off.
The drop site is far from the Shatterdome, and every moment is spent in tense silence in the jaeger. The Drift hums between Hakyeon and Minseok, an current of understanding and of something grimmer, solemner.
When they arrive at the drop-off site, it's for a scene they hoped least for and yet are relieved to see.
Illuminated in Meta's large headlight, Slingmouth's battered body succumbs slowly to the ocean foam. But he does not die in vain. A sweep of their heads reveals an equally battered Beta Thunder struggling to stay upright. But its attempts are futile; the jaeger has lost two limbs and a hole gapes in its abdomen. Its structural support is crumbling before Meta's very eyes, violently throwing out electric sparks
"No, please no," Hakyeon pleads under his breath. At the same time, Minseok jabs the control panel and barks, "LOCCENT, give me Kyungsoo's stats!"
"He's conscious," Luhan replies tightly. "But he's bleeding heavily. Get him out of there before Beta Thunder collapses."
"Roger."
The helicopters just start releasing their claws when Kyungsoo comes on the comm.
"N-no," he coughs. "Stay... stay out of the water!"
The helicopters hesitate, still suspending Galaxy Meta in the air above the turning ocean. Hakyeon lets out a cry of rage and jabs the communications panel. "We're saving you whether you like it or not, you punk! Drop us down, LOCCENT!"
“Don’t… do not drop them,” Kyungsoo repeats, raising Beta Thunder’s remaining arm up to stop the helicopters from advancing or dropping. “Hakyeon… I’ve got live wires hanging out in the open and… and when Beta’s framing collapses and we hit the water… You can’t save me. I’m... sorry.”
“We can’t watch you die!” Minseok says angrily, his voice cracking slightly towards the end of his sentence. “We still have time. We can still get you out of the jaeger. We… we…”
“To… to my knowledge, there are already electric currents in the water,” Kyungsoo says, leaving out that he only knows this because he can feel the current tasing him, growing stronger every inch Beta Thunder sinks into the water. On its knees, the ocean water laps dangerously along the edge of the jaeger’s abdominal depression. “I’m nuclear, but Galaxy Meta is digital. You… you won’t last a second. You’d be defying orders, coming after me... killing yourselves.”
Minseok and Hakyeon fall silent and even LOCCENT’s usual commotion of arguing technicians quiets. Only the ocean growls between them for a while, the comm buzzing with defeat.
Kyungsoo heaves a long sigh, dropping Beta’s arm.
“So… so this is it, then,” he breathes. “This really is it.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Minseok says, letting out his own sigh. On his left, Hakyeon hiccups on a sob and reaches for him. Minseok grabs his hand and grips it like he would a lifeline. “God, Kyungsoo…”
“I... I don’t have much time, do I?” Beta Thunder groans and begins to tip forward, in slow motion, unable to fight the sea any longer.
“You do,” Minseok says, words trembling without conviction. “You… you have all the time in the world.”
“If… if there’s anything you want us to pass on…” Hakyeon takes a shaky breath. “Anything that you want to say…” Minseok squeezes tighter.
“Pl- please just… take care of... yourselves. Take... take c-care of them.” Beta Thunder groans and sinks lower still. “Tell Jongin I’ll… I’ll be okay and tell him to keep him safe… Tell him to keep Wonsh-”
Beta Thunder's radio signal goes out for good as the Conn pod sinks under, caged by electric light.
Time is up.
"Keep him safe."
Jongin is on fire when he awakens, unable to separate his dreams from reality. His body seizes with pain, like he’s being tased, but it’s not the physical agony that has him reeling. It’s the unfamiliar words he tastes on his tongue, the strange revelation he’s met in his nightmare. And he only knows one who can tell him more.
Knocking on Hakyeon’s door is strange. For one, Jongin hasn’t sought Hakyeon out for a long time. The last few times he did, he hadn’t ever bothered to knock. They had once known each other’s key codes and frequently burst into each other’s rooms to complain or ramble when their Drift partners were busy. But it was a long time ago that they were close, so seeking out Hakyeon is very, very strange.
The door swings open on Jongin’s third knock to reveal Hakyeon clad in a large t-shirt and boxers. “Sanghyuk, I told you that you didn’t have to- Oh! Jongin.”
Hakyeon’s face of annoyance becomes light surprise. He only hesitates a moment, however, before smiling. “Hey.”
“I- er, is this a good time?” Jongin asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. For the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel... angry, just lost. It’s a new feeling and he’s not sure how to deal with it in front of Hakyeon.
Hakyeon waves off his attempt at concern. “It’s fine, no problem. Sorry, I just thought you were, uh, someone else. Junmyeon and Minseok never knock and you never…”
Jongin looks down at his shoes. “I never come by anymore. I know.”
Hakyeon reaches out and squeezes his arm. “Well, you’ve come by today and I’m not going to just leave you out here.” He starts to tug him inside. “Come in.”
When Jongin steps in the room, it’s just as he remembered it a year or so ago. Mismatched decorations Hakyeon’s scraped up are hanging on the narrow walls and little, folded paper creations are scattered all over the room. Even the old, stuffed ladybug Jongin often hugged still lies on his bed.
“So how are you?” Hakyeon asks, plopping down on his mattress. He pats the space next to him, inviting Jongin over.
“I could be worse,” Jongin replies cryptically. When he sits, he finally gives in to the urge to cuddle the ladybug and tentatively reaches for it. Hakyeon can’t help a smile.
“I heard you found a rookie that matched you,” the older pilot says, cocking his head in interest. Jongin feels a first twist of distaste sour his morning mood.
“Apparently,” he answers with a slight frown, squishing an antennae between his fingers. “Junmyeon didn’t give a clear okay because I… well, he’s probably set up a Drifting session already. He said he was an absolute match.”
“You don’t seem happy to have found a match,” Hakyeon points out, mirroring the downturn of Jongin’s mouth. Jongin starts to feel even worse, squeezing the ladybug harder. "Why is that?"
“I just... It..." Jongin wants to tell Hakyeon what happened. He wants to be open with him again, tell him all the embarrassing things he used to tell him. But he feels all too self-conscious suddenly. And it frustrates him, that a barrier has grown. Everything frustrates him.
"It's okay," Hakyeon says softly, patting his hand. "If you don't want to tell me."
"I'm... I'm sorry," Jongin mutters. An apology seems appropriate.
"It's okay. Of course it’s okay," Hakyeon repeats with a reassuring smile. He jokes lightly, “Maybe I should start with a different question next time.”
Jongin gives him a tentative smile back. "Like what?"
“Well, perhaps I'll ask why you came to see me today,” Hakyeon says. He blushes slightly. “I mean… just… just an assumption that you had, er, another reason to see me other than wanting... company.”
Jongin nods with some reluctance and swallows down what doubt he has about bringing this to Hakyeon. He has to ask. He has to know. “Yeah."
He clears his throat in sudden discomfort, but pushes on. "I... I wanted to ask you something about… K-Kyungsoo’s death.”
He almost swears at his little stutter, but his tongue feels like it’s caught fire so he doesn't dare say more.
Hakyeon lips part slightly, taking in a shallow breath. “Kyung… soo?”
“I know,” Jongin blurts out, the tension practically searing him. “I know I told you once never to tell me anything about... what happened, but there’s something I saw when I was… there’s something I need to know about… a-about…”
He trails off, voice small and choked. He pulls the ladybug closer to his chest, where unseen hands begin to tear a hole.
“...What do you want to know?” The strange, hollow quality to Hakyeon’s voice reminds Jongin that he is not the only one haunted by the past. Hakyeon carries a burden as well.
“Was there anything he… said?” Jongin breathes. The words in his dream surface, but he won’t believe them until Hakyeon tells him so.
“There were… some things,” Hakyeon says, letting out a sigh. Some of the tension leaves him, replaced by heavy defeat. He gives Jongin a sad, aged smile. “Some things I should have told you long ago, no matter how much you’d hate me for it. For telling you about his death.”
Hakyeon reaches for Jongin’s hand again and squeezes it, continuing. “He didn’t have… much time.” The older pilot disguises the crack in his voice as a small cough. “He wanted you to know that he’s okay. That… that he will be okay.”
The script is in Jongin’s head. Hakyeon seems to be reading right off of it.
“And he… he wants you to take care of someone.” Hakyeon’s voice is just a whisper. "His brother, Wonshik. He's a rookie in the program."
"How... how had I not known about him?" Jongin asks with barely a breath. He's lying. He's known him this whole time. He's known him for years, as a R.A.B.I.T. Kyungsoo often chased in the Drift, as a crying little bundle Kyungsoo never consoled with a name. He was the messy-haired youth of a memory tinted with betrayal, hurt, worry. He was the only subject Kyungsoo never opened up about.
“Minseok told me Wonshik tried to cut him off,” Hakyeon replies, looking down at their clasped hands, one over the other. “Wonshik wanted to be a pilot as well and Kyungsoo wanted him to be... safe.”
Jongin doesn't stay with Hakyeon for much longer after that. Not so much because he doesn't want to, but because he was right when he assumed Junmyeon would set up a Drifting session for him and Wonshik as soon as possible. And because Junmyeon does not find Jongin in his room, he sends him the message over intercom.
"Ranger Kim Jongin, please report to Nova Danger's Conn pod in Hangar 2 immediately. You have three minutes."
Hakyeon turns to the speaker in his room. "Nova Danger? The new jaeger? Why would you have t- Oh."
"Junmyeon likes to jump right into things," Jongin mutters. Hakyeon laughs lightly, the sadness that had plagued their conversation before dissipating a bit.
"Well, I better let you off now," Hakyeon sighs. He pats Jongin's shoulder as they get up together. "Don't be too hard on the rookie today. Give him a chance. He's not Kyungsoo, after all.”
"A-alright." Jongin doesn't tell Hakyeon that he's almost Kyungsoo. Instead he turns and sets the ladybug back on the bed reluctantly. He'll have to come back and visit it later.
"Come see me again," Hakyeon urges as Jongin steps out the door. "I've... I've missed your company."
Jongin cracks a smile. "I have too."
Nova Danger’s drivesuit feels awkward and slippery on Jongin’s skin.
“This feels wrong,” he mutters to himself, plucking at the navy material. He’s less physically uncomfortable than he is mentally. But there’s no backing out now. He heard the words and he’ll make a promise to him. To Kyungsoo. To… himself.
Another navy-clad figure trips into the Conn pod, wires dangling from his suit and hair tousled beyond repair. Not a look Kyungsoo would ever sport, but perhaps one a younger Jongin often wore.
Wonshik bows and opens his mouth to blubber apologies, but Jongin beats him to it.
“Late again, Sleepy,” he says with a little twist in his lip. “Your brother never disappointed me like this.”
Wonshik jumps at the mention of his brother but recovers, frowning back. “I-I’m not disappointing!”
“You are proving to be. Hurry up and show me some dedication if you want to be better than Kyungsoo.”
His hands tremble lightly at the name, but no blood comes up his throat. His heart is a leaking raft, cheap, battered, lost, but slowly, surely making its way out of the ocean’s tempest.
And he thinks he’s grieving just as much as he needs to.