A Measure of Salvation

[butterflyweb]

Title: A Measure of Salvation (7/8)
Authors: butterflyweb & rawthornewrites
Genre: Sci-fi!AU
Pairing: GD/TOP, hints of BaeRi
Rating: NC-17 overall
Warnings: Dub-con, mind fuckery and other bad shit in later chapters.
Summary: Earth's atmosphere ignites outside the thick glass pane, miles of ocean and cloud reduced to scorching lava. Cities are obliterated in mere seconds. All life ceases by the time Seunghyun opens his eyes to the mesh ceiling and the steady drip of a burst pipe.
AN: Written because...well... come on. We had to. Banner made by the wonderful and talented atenais_pala





Seunghyun walks into their hands. He doesn't know it, at first, still thinking he's following Seungri's voice when the forest disappears and he's in the hold of a vessel. Two humanoid figures strap him down, ignoring shouted protests and attempts to break free. They're stronger than he is, but they've got another advantage. His headache is testament to that.

"Let me go! What the fuck is wrong with you? I was looking for my friend, I wasn't..." He wasn't trying to interfere with whatever they've got going on this little rock. The universe is a big place and some species just fucking love their secrets. He doesn't have time for this.

Silence.

The word hisses in his mind, hands moving to strap his head to the cold metal table, rendering him completely immobile, a cold chill coursing up his spine. He tries to struggle, but it doesn't do much fucking good, dark eyes watching him impassively.

"You're. You're Nabu, right? Listen, I didn't mean any harm." He tries to keep his panic under check. The Nabu are an intelligent race, this is all just a big misunderstanding. It has to be.

The press of metal restraints against his wrists shatters that illusion.

Fool. You travel with a Nabu and he did not teach you to defend your fragile mind? A fingertip traces a line over his forehead, bisecting it, a roll of fear turning his stomach. The Nabu woman smiles, the expression holding none of Youngbae's gentleness. It's to our advantage then. Not that we need one.

Seunghyun swallows hard. If they know his crew, then they know he's not alone. Then the others are also in danger. He closes his eyes, mind reaching through the snow storm, through the deep forest to the ship. Searching for Youngbae. It's a frail effort. He can't reach the other man unless he's looking for him - and why would he?

Don't bother, the female tells him. You won't remember any of this very soon. She looks to her companion. Bring the mental probe.

It makes his breath catch, strangle in his throat and he almost wants to laugh in the middle of oncoming hysteria because this can't be happening. Aliens are going to fuck with his mind, just like thousands and thousands of ancient films deemed racially intolerant in this day and age.

"Fuck, you don't understand--" he chokes, pulling hard at his bonds. "I'm a friend to Nabu, I swear, I'm don't mean you any harm--"

Not yet, the female agrees. But you will. It's biology. Your species believes in expansion and obliteration. We won't stand for the enslavement of our race. She wields something shaped like a gun, the barrel ending in a wide, white mesh. It will hurt more if you fight it.

The alternative doesn't cross his mind. He's human and his survival instinct is alive and well and kicking against his bonds, fighting pain he can't fathom but knows to expect regardless. "No. No, please--"

She presses the gun to his forehead and for a moment, all he sees is blinding, excruciating whiteness, filling up every corner and gap. Robbing him of his voice, his sight, his hearing, blanketing him in a ice cold light.

It's only when it fades that he realizes he's screaming.

The pain of it is blinding, like a knife in the center of his brain, carving out patterns without anesthetic. He can feel something wet in his eyes and imagines it's blood. Maybe that's what they're pioneering, some clever new way of killing people.

"Please," he mouths, lungs burning as the white light returns and envelops him tightly.

There are images, hazy, in the whiteout, flicking past him line of sight like a shuffled deck of playing cards, moving too fast for him to catch a hold of, his breath short in his chest. He feels like he's being suffocated, as if they're cutting off his airways and leaving him to asphyxiate like a hooked fish.

Killing him.

This is killing him.

The blinding light goes out again, the female staring over his prone body at her companion. There are no words but then there wouldn't be. The Nabu can control their thoughts better than humans ever could, frustration writ in her eyes and the flaring of her nostrils.

For one long, horrible moment, he can't remember his name or how he got here. He knows the ship and the blonde man on it. He knows that they had sex and he remembers how it felt, but he can't recall the rest. He searches for the answers only to find blank spaces and silence.

Seunghyun. Jiyong called him Seunghyun. The memory unravels fast, like a ball of yarn from his grandmother's fingers, when he used to visit her on the last Martian colony.

The ship. Earth. Seungri and Youngbae and the dreams. It's all there, still, his pulse hammering in his ears from the weight of his relief. They didn't take anything from him. They didn't.

The male Nabu strides forward, a hand pressing over Seunghyun's eyes and he tries his damnedest to pull away once he feels it. The sensation of a hand poking around your internal organs while you watch it disappear into your open stomach, skin pinned back, leaving you open for all to see.

You've been shown things you never should have seen... hisses that voice inside his head, dark eyes focusing on his and peering back beyond the retinas into his skull. You know about Earth.

The female falters a little. How can he know that? Human! How do you know? Her scream is a piercing ache against his temple.

He twists in the restraints, writhes and sobs and keeps his mouth shut, because he won't give anything to them that they don't take by force. He owes his crew, his planet, better than that.

He's tainted, the male snarls, rage a quiet presence in his features, waiting to bubble up the surface. By more primitave minds. Useless to us.

But he knows. He's been told. That seems to be the running theme except Seunghyun isn't sure what he knows, what could possibly be of value to superior beings with superior weaponry. What do they want from him?

The press of pale fingers is gone in an instant. This must not spread. Kill him.

No. He was not yours to take and he is not yours to kill.

Youngbae's strong voice echoes through his mind and those of the other Nabu, dark looks crossing already threatening features.

So it was you, the female hisses.

He is not yours. He travels with Nabu and you will return him to us.

You betrayed us!" she screams and though her lips are silent, her voice all but echoes around the ship.

Seunghyun presses back to shield himself from her rage, clinging to Youngbae's voice for comfort. His throat won't work, he can't even speak to tell him he's alive. Can't even beg to be saved.

You'll pay for this. Our word travels fast.

Youngbae doesn't heed them. Return him to us or die.

He is an abomination. He must--

Plasma cannons rattle the ship and if the sound of the asteroid scared him before, it's nothing compared to Daesung's firepower, unleashed and bloodthirsty.

Don't be afraid, Seunghyun, Youngbae murmurs, for him alone, the other man's voice a balm over his wounded mind. We will not leave without you.

Another volley of cannons rocks the ship.

The female Nabu turns her weapon on him, the blinding pain a vivid memory and Seunghyun's fright must be audible. A third blast hits the hatch door, splitting the metal with a roaring sound. It does the trick, distracting the woman long enough for her to turn her gun on the intruders.

If she fires, Seunghyun doesn't see or hear it. The male's hand touches his temple and a stream of words and images strung together pools into his mind. See your human brethren. See what they will become.

The images cease abruptly, his tired eyes watching as the Nabu stumbles back before Jiyong's features fill his line of sight, a palm cool on his cheek.

"Seunghyun," he breathes, voice strained. "Seunghyun, are you alright?"

Behind his eyes, Earth launches ships that tear down the universe. Planets are terraformed and abandoned. Men and women of different races are raped and murdered. So many bodies. So many deaths.

"Aheri... come back to me. Please." It's the despair in Jiyong's voice that does it, pulling his mind out of the quagmire of a stolen vision.

"You're safe now," the Ahma whispers, finding his wandering gaze. "I'll keep you safe."

The words release something in him, the fight giving out as his body slumps against the cold metal table, blackness washing over his vision and sweeping him under. He doesn't feel the hands that undo his bonds or scoop him up. He doesn't see Seungri burn the two Nabu who took him.

He doesn't hear Youngbae's apologies nor feel his regret, because there are no thoughts in the black.

What could be hours or days or minutes later, he wakes up in his quarters, Jiyong's slumped figure curled at the foot of his bed. Confirming that this wasn't a bad dream. Too bad, on the scale of his nightmares, it ranks pretty high.

He shifts carefully, his head throbbing with the force of a vicious hangover, running a hand back through his hair. Even the infinitesimal movement wakes Jiyong, the Ahma sitting up quickly, his face drawn even paler than it usually is.

"Seunghyun--"

"I'm okay," he offers preemptively, searching somewhere for a smile. "Are we airborne?" He's reminded of Seungri's question when they landed, his fear of being sucked into the certain death of outer space. His own fears are far less clear-cut by comparison.

Jiyong nods, shifting closer. "Daesung has the run of the ship. He said you'd want to keep going and that you'd just wake up angry if we stayed put... how. How are you feeling?"

He shakes his head and regrets it a moment later, a hand coming up to press at his temple. "Kind of like I got a sledgehammer to the back of my skull. What the fuck happened?"

Jiyong frowns, running a hand over his calf. "I don't really know. Youngbae...he knows but...he won't explain till you wake up."

"Well, I'm up." Against his will and better judgment, but he's awake. He tosses the covers aside, groaning as every muscle seems to ache with that small effort. "He on the bridge?"

"Yeah." Jiyong shifts to stand, hands moving awkwardly to take hold of Seunghyun's shoulders. "He said not to rush you."

"I'm not going to break, Jiyong," he murmurs, not quite sure what to make of the Ahma's protectiveness. "I had two sadistic bastards poking around in my head for shits and giggles and I want to know why."

It's either the tone or the harsh portrayal of what was done to him that convinces the other man, because he steps away. "Sorry. I'll come with you."

Seunghyun doesn't bother with an argument, standing slowly and testing his own strength. It's a smart move. Everything hurts.

Jiyong hovers and doesn't smile and it makes Seunghyun wonder just how long he was out. How fucked up he was when they found him.

He runs his fingers along the walls as he heads up for the bridge, ready to steady himself if the pounding in his head overwhelms him, climbing the stairs with Jiyong behind him. Seungri's is the first face he sees, smile bright through the grimness of his features, stepping forward to wrap his arms carefully around Seunghyun.

"Hope you had a good nap," he breathes, forced levity in his voice.

Seunghyun snorts, hugging him with one arm. "How long was I out?" It bothers him that he can't remember, his mind feels like opaque glass that he can't break through, things hidden from view whether on purpose or subconsciously.

The Ahma presses a kiss to his neck. "Twelve hours or so. Give or take. I'm glad you're awake."

"Yeah, me too," he murmurs, letting him go after a long moment, gazing sliding to where Youngbae stands from the Captain's chair. The Nabu's features are drawn.

I hope you'll forgive me, but I had to be a bit invasive while you were sleeping. To make sure they hadn't damaged your mind and memories.

Seunghyun ignores the apology, meeting the other man's eyes.

"What's going on, Youngbae? What did they want with me? Why are your people fucking attacking minds now?"

The temperature on the bridge drops several degrees, Seungri looking from him to Youngbae and back. Saying nothing. Jiyong is the same. Mirthlessly, Seunghyun can't help feel like he has two Ahma bodyguards flanking him. An electronic one pops out of the woodwork, his pixelated ass parked over a console. He carries no artifice this time.

Youngbae leans forward, hands hanging limp between his knees. Those were not my people. Mind altering technology is taboo on my homeworld. Only criminals suffer its effects and we never use it on other species.

"So what do you call what they did to me? Experimental work?" Outrage, at least, causes him no physical pain.

Yes. That's exactly what it was. Youngbae looks up at him, lips pressed in a thin line. It was practice. For the work they intend to do on Earth.

Seunghyun feels unsteady on his feet. "This...this too? But the explosions, the destruction..."

I...haven't been entirely honest with you.

Jiyong curls a hand around his shoulder, bidding him move. "Sit." It's all he says, all the input he provides and the silence rings with the possibilities.

My people have an incredible gift. We can see the future and the past, we can tap into brain waves. We know that our lives are echos of what we hear and like every echo, that we'll one day fade to silence. It's something we're quite comfortable with.

Youngbae's hands press together, making a pyramid of his fingers. We've known for quite some time that the human race will be our doom. Ever since you began charting what was to you unknown space, we've known you'll one day enslave every race you could outmatch and rule us all. We've had time to come to terms with our sacrifice.

Jiyong fingers curl in the fabric of Seunghyun's sleeve.

But...not all of us...were willing to make that sacrifice. There were and are those who believe that humans should be stopped preemptively. That their natures should be...altered. Their actions prevented by their mental enslavement.

Seunghyun swallows hard, something tight and caught in his chest. "The Nabu who took me." It isn't a question.

Yes, by now they will have similar testing outposts all over the sector. Thankfully, you were able to resist their methods completely, in a way they didn't at all expect. Youngbae's gaze flickers to Jiyong.

"They said I was tainted," he recalls, following the Nabu's eyes to the man at his side. "What's going on?" Seungri shifts uncomfortably against the bulkhead, his hands folded over his chest. He keeps silent. Jiyong doesn't have that privilege. Seunghyun takes a steady hold on his hand. "What do you know about this?" He doesn't ask 'what did you do'. Whatever it was, it saved his life.

Jiyong tilts his head to the side, as though considering his answer. For a moment, Seunghyun fears a lie. "Do you remember what I said about my species... connecting with those they care for? That mind-heart bond?"

Dark eyes dart to his, discomfort hidden behind a false smile.

"I bonded with you." Jiyong bites into his lip, shaking his head quickly. "It's...it's one-sided, you're not held by it. But there's...a mental connection. And Youngbae said..."

It saved your life. Your mind. The Nabu couldn't break past it.

Seunghyun grasps for understanding. The primitive minds those bastards mentioned - this was it. Jiyong's harebrained impulse saved his skin.

"Why?" he barks, barely catching the roughness in his voice. "I mean... why did it stop them? Aren't your people evolved beyond this kind of emotional attachment?"

Youngbae fixes him with a look. We are. But our weapons are made for our people. They haven't adapted them yet.

"Yet." The word is chilling. Seunghyun shakes his head, fingers curling around the arms of the chair. All of this too much to take in and still there's more he doesn't know. "Are they...are they the ones who destroy earth?"

If we do nothing.

"The Nabu won't interfere, will they?" It's Seungri who asks, sounding small and young. To an extent, it's true. Didn't Jiyong say the Ahma once revered Nabu, believing they were gods?

Youngbae glances at him and shakes his head. It's not in our nature to alter the course of events. We see the future. Trying to change it would lead to paradox.

"But you're here," Seunghyun protests. "You've already changed things."

No. You have. And it's true. Every step of the way Seunghyun has led, animated by the weight of responsibility placed on his shoulders. Responsibility he didn't even understand until today. The genocide of his dreams pales by comparison to what is truly at stake.

"Wait, that doesn't make sense." Daesung has been uncharacteristically quiet so far, all but going unnoticed where he sits, an image of a man constructed from archives and his own creative mind. "If you knew about these rogue Nabu or whatever you want to call them, why didn't you go punish them as Nabu? I mean, if anything deserves a mind probe... I don't get it. Why rely on a human--no offense--for help?"

Seunghyun shakes his head. "No, I had those dreams..."

The Nabu do not interfere in the free will of our people. By our laws, it would make them just as much criminals as the rogues who took you. Youngbae sits back in his chair, pressing a hand over his eyes. As much a criminal as I am. For what I've done.

"And what's that?" Seunghyun isn't sure he wants to know the answer, but they've gotten this far. He can't back out and bury his head in the sand now. He needs to know.

Youngbae smiles. I planted a seed in your mind and I watched it grow.

"What better messenger to warn Earth than a human," Daesung surmises, his mind sprinting while Seunghyun's still struggles to grasp what was said. "You gave him the dream and translated it in a way that would make him double back home..."

That's why it was a nuclear winter instead of a blackness of the mind. Humans, Seunghyun realizes, don't conceive memory and free will to be as great an asset as their sun and the ozone layer.

To his horror, Youngbae nods. I couldn't act alone. I couldn't risk my people knowing and I couldn't risk yours thinking I was lying. Humans are not a particularly gullible race. He takes a deep breath. I used to believe what the Nabu preached. That it was a breach of conduct to interfere, that trying to affect the world around us was trying to play a god.

His gaze finds Seungri's, then Seunghyun's, beseeching him to understand. And then I saw the effects of slavery up close. I saw what it did to a man to loose his freedom. And I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

Seunghyun shakes his head, swallows hard around his anger. "I just...Fuck, Youngbae, you could've told me. I may be human, but that doesn't mean I'm incompetent. It doesn't mean you had to play me like a goddamn puppet."

Would you have listened to a soothsayer's vision if you hadn't felt the effects of a mind probe yourself? I didn't know what kind of man you were, six months ago. I couldn't take that chance. No Nabu would protest to a human trying to save his homeworld. The ether allows us all to See. Some species are just more adept at it than others. I thought it was the best chance I had to get the message through to Earth before word got out about my intentions.

"So let me get this straight. Your uber-evolved species won't punish the fuckers who messed around in my head before or after they start terrorizing humans everywhere based on something that might happen in the future, but you are now blacklisted from every Nabu party because you had the gall to spill the best kept secret on the block?"

Seunghyun--

"No, Jesus, all I've done is sit and listen to people tell me how unevolved we are, how backwards and behind and disadvantaged. And now I find out you've known all along about all of this, who's behind it, why and what's going to happened, and you've lied to me about all of it cause hey, I'm only human. And if you spill the truth, god knows I might not play your scene to its scripted end."

He stands shakily, fingers curled into fists. "Well, you know what? As smart as you fuckers are, you still lose. Maybe we're not as much of a goddamn afterthought as you seem to believe."

Seunghyun turns away from Youngbae's gaze, walking as fast as his weakened body can manage, just needing to get out of there. Away from all of them. Jiyong's footsteps behind him seem determined not to let that happen. He doesn't have the strength to tell him that he'd rather be alone so he forgoes words entirely, locking the door behind him once he's in his quarters.

He hears the sound of a fist falling against it, the thump dulled by metal and generalized fatigue.

Damn you all, he thinks, dropping face first onto the bed.