#maxwrites

****

When Seonghwa wakes up the next morning, he can’t even remember falling asleep. One moment he’s talking to some strange kid who knows too much classified information and in the next, he’s having nightmares about Hongjoong being burnt alive. He didn't so much fall asleep but rather blacked out due to pure exhaustion.

There are faint voices coming from the communal areas of the compound now and he can hear Seungcheol talking to Yunho about the daily news and stock market. There's no shouting so Mingi must still be asleep.

By the time Seonghwa finishes his shower, he can smell coffee. It makes him suddenly remember that he's missed a meal. Again. 

Walking out in his spare clothes, he sits down at the long communal table with a heavy sigh. 

A silent shadow falls over him. He doesn't need to look up to know who it belongs to. "You look like shit."

"Thank you for your observations, Yunho."

A loud metallic bang interrupts their conversation and they look up to see a weary Jongho trudging through the kitchen with bloodied hands and his crossbow in two broken pieces. 

"Okay. He looks even worse." Yunho murmurs under his breath.

Jongho shoots them both a silencing glare but doesn't say anything. He's just about to drop his broken crossbow on the table when there's a pointed throat clearing from across the room.

"No blood or weapons in the kitchen.” Wonwoo says, barely taking his eyes off the coffee machine.

With an irritated sigh and angry footsteps, Jongho stomps out of the kitchen to the mud room behind it. They can all hear the loud thud and clang of the broken crossbow hitting the metal basin.

Wonwoo ignores it and comes to sit casually at the table, sliding a mug towards Seonghwa's weary form. "Coffee?”

"Yeah, thanks."

Seonghwa sips the warmth as he feels familiar eyes raking over his body. He knows Wonwoo is mentally cataloging his visible injuries, assessing if any require urgent intervention. He does it to all of them, Seungcheol gets the most annoyed by it, but after awhile, they've all just gotten used to it and accepted it as another abnormally normal thing in their world.

"Any personal injuries I can't see?”

"No, just superficial."

"Good." Wonwoo’s eyes flick to the long cut across Seonghwa's collar bone. It's mostly dried out by now, nearly scabbed over, could've taken a few stitches but they've missed the boat on that one.

They're interrupted again, this time by a half dressed Mingi. 

Yunho sighs. "Mingi. Put some fucking pants on."

"There are pants! They're sleeping pants."

"They're boxer shorts and we're about to eat."

Yunho shuffles out of the kitchen only to come back a few moments later holding some grey sweatpants. "Here, idiot."

Seonghwa is so tired he doesn't even have the energy to roll his eyes, so Wonwoo does it for the both of them.

****

Seungcheol makes them all eat egg whites and porridge and drink orange juice and a protein shake. He doesn't know why they're forced to eat so healthily when they all just eat crap for the rest of the day. 

Or maybe that's why. 

Jongho eats everything and says nothing. 

Mingi eats everything and says everything. 

Yunho chews methodically in thought. 

Seungcheol is wearing his old man glasses as he reads endless emails on his phone.

Wonwoo observes everything, half squinting, because someone has taken his glasses. 

And Seonghwa is exhausted, physically and mentally. He's also slightly delirious because there's this nagging feeling he's forgotten something.

It hits him all at once.

"Fuck! Where's the Kid? The Fire Kid?"

"Relax. He's still sleeping." Seungcheol replies calmly, sipping his coffee whilst passively-aggressively dodging Wonwoo's attempt to make him eat a normal breakfast for once. Something that isn't coffee with a side of pure sugar.

Jongho looks up mid chew, cheeks like a hamster, and raises a questioning eyebrow.

Seonghwa shares a look with Seungcheol and it’s their leader that eventually speaks again to explain.

“The situation I told you about, Hongjoong's still missing. There was a witness. Some street kid. He's here at the compound, asleep in the one of the spare rooms. I've got a guard on him, not that he can do much damage here. All he had in his backpack was a crowbar."

Seonghwa scoffs inwardly. Even scrappy street kids can do damage, Seungcheol should know this by now, he's collected enough strays over the years. Anything could be a dangerous in the right hands.

But then again, Seungcheol has a point: there are six trained killers sitting around the kitchen tablet right now, eating eggs. They could all do a lot of damage with just a fork.

Jongho doesn't ask questions, just nods in understanding then resumes eating. He has always been their easiest kid to train and keep in line but Hongjoong found him before he really knew much of the normal world. This abnormal world was normal to him.

At the mention of Hongjoong’s name, Seonghwa’s mind is racing again. Where did he go? Why didn't he succeed? Why hasn't he contacted any of them. Why hasn't he contacted his partner and closest friend at least? If that was a thing they acknowledged. 

They should all be out there, trying to find him. Not sitting here talking about it.

He sighs again and rests his head on the table. Mingi is arguing about waffles now. It's not even the first time. 

"Mingi. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Can't you see he's fucking tired? Yunho? Come on..."

Yunho’s quiet, "We'll do the dishes"

Followed by Mingi’s, "Sorry Seonghwa".

Chairs scrape back. Dishes clink. Footsteps retreat. And then silence. 

He feels a warm sturdy hand on his shoulder. "Seonghwa. Go back to bed. We'll keep working on it."

He does what he's told. Crashes back to sleep and sees Hongjoong in the fire as soon as he closes his eyes.

*****

Seungcheol takes Yunho, Mingi and Jongho out to gather specific intel from known Red territories. Seonghwa had argued about it but in the end, still hadn't been allowed to go. Wonwoo stays behind, no doubt because Seungcheol is a control freak, and suggests talking to the Kid again.

Seonghwa relieves the guard by the door of the spare bedroom but even after three knocks, there's no movement or signs of life. So he unlocks it from the outside and slowly pushes his way in.

He would've laughed if he wasn't already so tired.

The Kid is half out the window, stuck at the threshold with the realisation that it's a three-storey drop onto a slab of solid cement below. Not even one blade of grass to cushion the fall. It's a certain death, or at the very least, some shattered ankles and knees, depending on how he lands.

Seonghwa has got to hand it the Kid though: he must have really contemplated his chances and thought they came out half-favourable, judging by the way he's just sitting on the windowsill now, oscillating between resignation and recklessness. Kim Hongjoong always had a knack for finding the strangest strays in the city.

"Going somewhere?"

The Kid whips his head around but relaxes somewhat when he sees who it is. "Maybe."

"Painful way to go though."

"Better than you people locking me in here." The Kid says, staring mournfully out the window, towards the city in the distance.

Seonghwa closes the door and leans against it. He remembers the feeling; the first time he was taken in by Seungcheol's predecessor, just months before he was killed. He remembers not trusting anybody either but the allure of a family, a bed to sleep in, a job to do, food to eat, a place where he might belong...they were needs so strong that they even overtook any desire for freedom.

"If you want to go, I'll let you go."

This gets the Kid's attention. "What? You'll let me go?"

"Sure. If that's what you want."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"Yeah, of course."

"What will happen to you? If you let me go?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "Out the window? Probably nothing. Out the front door? I'll probably get kicked out of this family. Lose a finger. End up back where I started."

The Kid frowns now. "I don't trust you. He told me to but I don't. And now he's gone anyway."

"You don't have to trust anybody. Not me. Not anybody else here." Seonghwa says, seeing the boy in front of him for what he really is: lonely and scared. "But we don't want to hurt you. You're safer here than out there. They're looking for you."

"Who?"

"The other side. The people who were chasing...."

"Hongjoong." The Kid finishes. "That's his name isn't it? I heard you talking when you thought I was sleeping."

"Yes. That's his name."

The Kid shakes his head. "You're not supposed to admit that. You should've lied. I thought you were a professional? Now I know his name and yours. What if I give it to the other side? And tell them where you live?"

"You wouldn't be the first one who tried and you won't be the last." Seonghwa leaves out the part where most of the squealers end up dead before they've even left the compound.

"Why did you tell me then?"

"What's the point of lying? If Hongjoong trusted you with my name, he'd trust you with his."

The Kid looks skeptical. "But where is he?"

"I don't know." Seonghwa replies honestly, feeling the emptiness settle on him. "That's why I need your help."

"I don't know anything."

"I think you know a lot more than you think."

The Kid shrugs but finally, after a long heavy silence, he climbs back inside the room and closes the window. "Your security sucks. Anyone could get in and out."

Seonghwa smiles at him. "You sure about that? You can try it out next time, see how far you get."

"Whatever."

Teenagers.

"So listen, are you ready to talk about that night at the paint factory? I know you don't trust me yet so don't tell me anything personal about yourself, that's fine. I won’t keep tabs on you when this is over. But I need information about him. I just want...I need to find him."

"Is he your best friend?"

It's a question that takes Seonghwa by surprise, as does the straightforward bluntness of a teenager. He debates lying about it but part of him suspects Hongjoong has said a lot more and this Kid is testing him.

"Yes."

"Is he a good person? Has he really killed people?"

"Yes and....yes."

There's a flash of conflict across the Kid's face and Seonghwa waits anxiously for the seconds to tick by. Eventually, the kid drops his backpack to the ground.

*****

A letter arrives. Co-ordinates. An old art gallery. A ransom. Less than what Seungcheol is worth but too close to the amount to be coincidental. 

This was someone who knows them to a dangerously intimate degree.

Red.

The team meeting about it goes as well as could be expected: which is to say, it's an utter shitstorm.

A ransom would mean they have Hongjoong but there's been no proof of life or death. Seungcheol has solid investments on three continents but it doesn't mean paying the entire ransom wouldn't be a big hit to his entire operation. Hongjoong was valuable but there were at least twenty other members to think about.

The old art gallery was abandoned. The artworks relocated to a newer and larger facility closer to the city centre. The old cavernous space had been taken over by Red's gangs, despite the land being half Seungcheol's territory.

"It's obviously bait." Yunho says with disgust. "They can't seriously think we're stupid enough to fall for this?"

"There's no return contact. It's not like we can just call him to clarify." Jongho says. "Even if it's a trap, we have to at least turn up? Stake it out."

"And risk getting ambushed?" Yunho counters.

"We also risk not confirming who sent the letter." Wonwoo says diplomatically. "Engagement is not required. We could simply stake out to see who comes."

They talk in circles until Seungcheol stands up and announces that they will go ahead with the stake out. Nobody challenges Seonghwa when he volunteers to go and they vote for Mingi as back up, due to being the least injured at the moment. Yunho frowns deeply at the plans but does it silently.

****

"I heard you got yelled at after the meeting.” Seonghwa says as they drive towards the old art gallery.

"S'okay. Used to it.”

"With Yunho? Does he yell at you a lot?” 

There's that trademark smile. "Yeah. Because I’m always doing stupid shit. He’s always been the better one.”

"Better at what?"

"At everything".

Seonghwa looks over but Mingi is staring ahead with an unreadable expression on his face.

They eventually park a street away but with the trees and shadows, visibility is poor at best. They make the decision to load up and go out on foot. It's a risky area, mostly because there's still housing around with regular people living their regular lives. A loud shoot out here wouldn't serve either side any purpose.

There's still nothing for nearly an hour.

But it's 11 PM when they hear it. The rustle of trees moving out of sync with the breeze. The sound of footsteps deliberately trying to be quiet. Seonghwa grips his knife on one hand and checks the gun strapped to his right thigh.

He can see the hard sharp line of Mingi’s clenched jaw, the set of his shoulders, the quiet focused fury, like a spring winding it self tighter and tighter which each passing second. 

There's a flash of movement at their periphery and Mingi jumps to his feet to run towards it, it's followed swiftly by the sickening crack of a spiked bat hitting bone.

A shadow lunges at Seonghwa's body tackling him to the ground, but he lands on his back and takes advantage of the position to slice his blade across the neck in front of him. It's messy but effective. This suit will have to be burned later.

A foot stamps on Seonghwa's hand as he tries to get up and then kicks his knife away. He tries to roll but suddenly there's two bodies holding him down. He takes a kick to the gut, then another. He can hear the moment his ribs break and his breath comes out in a gasp.

He can't move but can see the glint of his blade on the ground as one of the men picks her up and stalks towards him with it. 

There's a hand pulling on his hair to expose his neck for the kill. There's a split second where Seonghwa is almost disappointed that this is how he's going to go but when the man holding the knife crouches down to talk to him, he recognises the tone, even with the mask on.

"Where's the money?"

"Where's our guy?"

The blade, his blade, is pressed into the skin of his neck as a threat.

"Where is it?"

"It's kind of hard to carry twenty million in cash you know? You should've asked for it to be wired to you."

Someone kicks at his ribs again, breaking the already broken bones. These fuckers.

"Just kill him, they didn't bring the cash. Let's go before the others come and we're really fucked!"

The Others.

What others.

The blade at Seonghwa's neck suddenly falls to the ground and the negotiating amateur sinks to his knees, flailing furiously in attempt to dislodge the long hunting knife sticking out of his neck.

Looming behind the flailing man, in dark ominous shadow, is Mingi.

Seonghwa catches Mingi's cold black eyes as he pushes the hunting knife even deeper into the man’s neck.

And then it really descends into Hell.

There are limbs and bodies everywhere all the sudden, Seonghwa dodges only half of it, getting elbowed in the eye and kicked in the head. But he doesn't want to waste more time here, not when this is now a certified bust.

Scrambling to grab his knife from where she fell, he finishes off the two goons on the ground and leaves them to drown in their own blood.

There's the distant tell-tale wail of police cars approaching now. One of the neighbours must have seen the commotion, even in the darkness.

They need to get out of here fast.

There’s two men on top of Mingi but he can hear the familiar angry cursing, which means Mingi is at least still alive. 

The bullets are a last resort and will be traceable eventually but consequences be dammed, he's not losing another family member tonight.

It takes two headshots. They're muffled by the silencer but the flash is harder to conceal. Anyone looking outside their window would see it but it's dark enough for there to be reasonable doubt.

"You good? We gotta go now, someone called the cops already."

"Yeah". Mingi croaks, voice rusty like he's been shouting for a long time. 

Seonghwa mentally checks himself, aching all over, but doesn't feel any major discrepancy beyond bruises, cuts and broken ribs that nobody can do anything about anyway.

But then he hears a strained groan behind him. Mingi is doubled over, panting hard as he runs.

"I'm fine. Keep going."

He ends up half-dragging-half-carrying Mingi to the car. 

****

The drive back to the compound is erratic and frenzied on Seonghwa's part. His eyes flicker from the road to the back seat, where Mingi is curled into a fetal position, looking like a small pale child, not the cold dead-eyed fighter who just killed four men. 

It makes Seonghwa sick and angry and so tired that this is their reality.

It makes him drive faster.

"Geez, Seonghwa. Wouldn't it be ironic if I died from this car ride and not the stab wound?"

Seonghwa doesn't laugh. 

****

When they finally move Mingi inside to the compound's medic bay, he is dangerously pale from the internal blood loss. The once loud and sharp edges now soft and blunt and too quiet. He's breathing, barely.

Seonghwa wants to throw up.

Wonwoo is the first to come, face ashen and serious as soon as he surveys the scene in front of him. He must have been with the Kid, because the teenager trails in behind him, eyes wide with fear and horror as he takes in Mingi's lifeless form and Seonghwa's bloodied appearance.

Wonwoo is talking to him. "Seonghwa! What happened?"

He answers. Or rather, he hears himself answering in a detached way, like it was someone else talking.

"We were ambushed but not by Red's main crew. They've got a mole. Couldn't have predicted it. It was...five...six guys. Blunt force. A hunting knife. He was stabbed in the fight....."

Wonwoo forcibly removes Seonghwa's hands away from the wound and peels back the layers of Mingi'd blood stained shirt, the dark crimson wound continuing to flow rivers of blood onto the steel table.

"Ah, fuck. This is a mess." Wonwoo says tightly before ordering Seonghwa to reapply the presssure on the wound and for the shellshocked Kid standing by the doorway to wheel the emergency trolley over. It shakes all the way.

Jongho and Seungcheol arrive just as Wonwoo gets the large IV in Mingi's arm and Seonghwa watches their faces fall as they take in the situation.

"Jongho, set up the IV. He'll need saline first, it's in the first draw, then blood next. You're 0 negative, you good to go if we need it?"

"Yep, got it."

"Seungcheol, I need a surgeon. Jihoon is still in Japan so get me Soobin. He's back in Korea now. Landed last a few days ago. Call him from your emergency ID, he'll pick up faster. Put it on speaker for me and I don't care what threat you have to use, use it."

"Kid, go get those towels over there, help Seonghwa hold them over the wound. Jesus, wait! Slow down, don't run and trip, just walk."

Seonghwa dissociates at some point he doesn't even remember. He knows Soobin's voice comes through Seungcheol's speakerphone and hears Wonwoo barking orders in a way they’ve rarely heard before.

"Stab wound to the spleen...it's been 30 minutes already....a serrated hunting knife....I need you to operate tonight.......we need at least three units of B positive blood...Yes I'm fucking sure."

When Soobin's surgical crew eventually arrives, strong arms hoist Seonghwa away from Mingi's bedside and guide him to the couch in the corner of the room. He can sense Seungcheol patting him down for injuries. Three broken ribs. The skin across his knuckles is mangled and caked with blood. His left eye swollen, bloodshot. His lip split. He doesn't remember feeling anything apart from the burn of whiskey that Seungcheol tells him to drink as someone cleans him up.

The Kid comes and sits next to him after awhile and Seonghwa suddenly wishes he wasn't so covered in blood. He's only jolted out of his haze when a distraught shout rings out in the room.

"Where the fuck is he?!" Yunho bellows, kicking the door open and angrily throwing his suit jacket to the ground. "What the fuck is going on?!"

Seonghwa watches Yunho's face change from confused to angry to horror then back to angry. He watches him turn a sickly shade of green as he shuffles shakily towards Mingi's body.

He's never seen Yunho cry before and he doesn't start now. Yunho blinks them away, clenching both his fists as he turns to face both Wonwoo and Seungcheol.

"Why didn't you call me first?!"

"You had to finish your job." Wonwoo replies. "It was covert-"

"Fuck the job! You should've called me!"

They watch as Yunho lunges into Wonwoo's space, only to be forcibly yanked back by Seungcheol, whose patience is on it's last frayed thread. For all his rage and height, even Yunho struggles pathetically in Seungcheol's strong grip.

"It was my call. Do not touch him. Let them do their job or I will take you out of this, do you understand?"

With that, Yunho goes limp in defeat and now, with the threat of a fist fight gone, Seungcheol lets him go.

"How bad is this?" Yunho asks, quietly now as he stares at Mingi's pale face.

Soobin clears his throat and waits for Seungcheol to nod before he speaks. "It's a lacerated spleen from multiple stab wounds. There's extensive internal bleeding so the spleen has to come out tonight. He'll need blood. We'll operate tonight as soon as the blood gets here."

Seonghwa doesn't want to hear it but he knows Yunho needs details at all times. Needs facts and figures to work and reason with. 

"I'm O negative. Hook me up. " Yunho starts rolling up his left shirt sleeve and takes off his watch. Seonghwa notices the paper airplane tattoo on his inner wrist. There's a matching one on Mingi's right arm.

"Yunho-"

"You said he needs blood! Hook me up so you can start operating!"

"He has fluids running already." Wonwoo says gently. "The matched blood is coming with Taehyun. He's nearly here."

They all brace themselves for another outburst but Yunho’s face breaks, his voice small and pleading. "You gotta give me something to do. I'm not sitting here like an idiot." 

"Okay okay," Wonwoo's eyes soften briefly. "I want you to sit right by his right arm and watch the drip. Tell me when it's about to run out or if the line gets blocked. Can you do that?"

Yunho nods. Watching the drip. Absentmindedly tracing the paper airplane.

******

Seonghwa wakes up on the couch in his bedroom. He's in some old sweats pants. Someone must have cleaned all the blood off him. He doesn't remember. He doesn't even remember falling asleep.

Some feet shuffle and he can hear the Kid say, "He's awake".

Seungcheol face slowly comes into view. "Hey."

"Mingi?"

"Fine. Minus a spleen. But now we gotta figure out how to detach the Yunho sized growth on his arm."

"You say it like that a new thing." Seonghwa takes a sip of the glass of water he's offered. "Is he really ok?"

"Yeah. You know that kid. Impossible to get rid of. He'll probably want to keep his spleen in a jar, give it a name and talk to it." 

“Well…”

Seungcheol waves off the unasked question. “I already told Soobin to keep it for later.”

"He saved my ass. I should've -"

"Seonghwa stop. He probably wouldn't even be here at all if he was ambushed with someone else. You're both alive so that's still a good outcome."

“It’s been a damm long week.” Seonghwa says. “Nothing is going right and I still don’t know where Hongjoong is. And now, not only is there Red's crew but some rogue faction we have to worry about? If ....if Hongjoong died in that fire, why hasn’t any other gang claimed this hit? Why are they trying to get a ransom? He's gotta be alive somewhere."

“I don’t think they know. I would’ve heard by now. They know he’s linked to me.”

“Do you have any new leads? Where's the Kid? He might know something more.”

"He's already told you everything he knows." Seungcheol points out. “And to answer your other question: when he's not sleeping or raiding the fridge, he’s parked outside your room pretending to read.

“We should get back to work. I think we should-"

A hand pushes Seonghwa’s shoulder back down into the bed. It’s firm and conclusive. “I'll get back to work. You can take two days off. That's an order. I'm chasing up some leads the kid gave us. He's not so bad really. Lacking in manners for sure and he ate half the fridge. Wonwoo hasn’t warmed up to him yet.”

“Does Wonwoo ever warm up to anyone?”

“Yeah he does, actually.” Seungcheol answers with a smile. "Get some more sleep. You look like shit. I’ll get the kid to wake you up if something important happens.”

Seonghwa drifts back to sleep. He sees Mingi’s cold killer eyes and lifeless body. Hears Yunho’s desperate screaming. Watches Hongjoong burn over and over. 

*****

The next time Seonghwa wakes, he's covered in sweat. 

He stares at the beige ceiling and listens to the whirr of the fan. He’s still in his bedroom. There's a brief moment where he feels comforted, before last night's events come crashing down on him all over again.

He shuffles quietly down the corridor, approaching Yunho's room, chest filling with inexplicable warmth when he hears Mingi's voice for the first time in twelve hours. He never thought he’d miss it.

"Fuck Yunho. You're not supposed to make me laugh. I'll bust the staples."

"I'm reading you the news. It's not my fault some idiot let his dog eat his winning lottery ticket."

"Well, read me the obituaries or something sad.”

Seonghwa stands at the door to their bedroom and watches the way Mingi’s fingers play with stands of Yunho’s hair. It was small and private and intimate. 

Seonghwa turns away, feeling guilty for seeing it but at the same time, he was the one that found them both so he can be selfish just for a moment. 

Clearing his throat, Seonghwa knocks on the door to announce his presence. 

Mingi’s fingers drop back down on the bed and Yunho looks up guarded and protective. 

"Oh hey Seonghwa. Are you okay?" Mingi asks, sounding unreasonably cheerful, despite everything he’s gone through. 

"Yeah, are you?"

"Yep, they took out my spleen. Seungcheol said if I lived, he’ll make a shrine for it. I knew I was his favourite.” Mingi says with a chuckle before grimacing from the pull on his staples. "Owww."

They make small talk but Yunho stays awkwardly silent. Seonghwa wonders if Yunho blames him for what happened.

They're in the kitchen when it eventually comes out. 

"What really happened? I need to know. Nobody will tell me the truth."

"We got ambushed. It couldn't have been predicted. It's Red's crew alright but not the ones who sent the letter, it's some rogue faction.”

Yunho clenches his jaw and looks at the floor with enough intensity to burn right through it. "I knew I should've gone with you both. I knew it sounded like bait."

"Blaming ourselves doesn't solve anything."

Yunho scoffs. Mean and savage when he wants to be, he was now a far cry from the kid Seonghwa found all those years ago. 

"He could've fucking died."

"I know. But he didn't."

Yunho grunts angrily and turns to look out the window. "Did you kill the one who did that to him?"

He sighs. Yunho has tunnel vision for vengeance. It makes him dangerous and unreliable. It’s what Seonghwa has always been afraid of. 

“Yes. Both of them.”

Cold steely eyes bore into his. "Good. Thank you."

He watches Yunho carry the plate of food and glass of juice back out of the kitchen. 

He can't even blame Yunho for being this defensive and angry. He feels it too. But he doesn't have the luxury of youthful recklessness as an excuse. He's got to remain focused if he ever wants to find Hongjoong again. 

****

"Seungcheol you can't put him in the field. Not on this job anyway."

The Leader just stares at him. "I don't want to but we need him. We need the skills. He's good with tracking. You know that. You’re the one who made him.”

Seonghwa shakes his head, ignoring the last part. "He's got a personal vendetta. He'll kill everyone in that building before we even get what we want. I know that look and I know that feeling. He's riding on emotion right now and we don’t need another fiasco.”

"You know, if he heard you, he’d kick your ass for saying that.

Seonghwa shakes his head in frustration and tries again. "He’s beyond hate. He’ll just want to do damage. Right now, we need his mind, not his violence. If you put him on mission, he’ll go off plan and kill everybody. It'll be a bloodshed. Trust me. He's angry and he's in love. It's the worst combination. You put him in the field and we won't be able to control him."

Seungcheol catches the foreign word and then just rubs his eyes. "How long has that been going on for?"

"With Mingi? Since they met.”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow again. "That serious?"

"Yeah. That's why they're so good together. They're almost one person. If you cut one, the other bleeds.”

Seungcheol nods, takes in the information he’s long suspected. 

"We still need him Seonghwa. The SVT crew are all on mission, I can’t pull them out. The Kid is not trained and you know that there's no way Yunho is going to take this one lying down. We won't be able to stop him unless we sedate him, which is something I’d rather not do. I’ll talk to him.”

Seonghwa sighs in defeat and shakes his head again. "No, let me do it. He'll feel weird if you ask about Mingi."

"Okay, but be firm about it. I don't want more problems."

****

"Hey Yunho, you got a minute?"

Yunho looks up from the comic he's reading with Mingi. "Yeah?"

There's no motion to get up so Seonghwa tries a different tactic. "Need your help on a job detail."

"Oh yeah sure, hang on."

When they're out the room and walking towards his own, he knows he's got to say the right things. 

"You're not going to like what I'm about to say."

They sit down on his couch. 

"You heard about the new mission tomorrow. Seungcheol wants you to track with the crew. I know you're still angry about Mingi getting hit but we can't afford anyone else losing control. You follow orders or you stay behind. We don’t want any more casualties. I…tried my best to protect him…”

Yunho’s eyes soften, thaw and melt in a way Seonghwa’s only ever seen directed at Mingi and maybe Hongjoong once. 

He wonders what Mingi said about that night he got stabbed. 

"I'm...fine Seonghwa. I’m not mad. Well, no, that’s a lie: I am mad. But I’m…..I’m not mad at you for what happened. Mingi said you saved him and got him out of there. And I get it, why you’re worried. But I'm fine. I am. I know you think I'm gonna go crazy but I won't. I'm not dying when he's still alive."

"Oh….okay. Good."

"Did you....tell anyone about us?"

"Seungcheol. He needs to know but he half knew already. He doesn't care who you want to be with, just as long as you do your job."

"I will."

"I know." Seonghwa says now, suddenly seeing that scrawny gangly teenager again. “You’ve always done a good job.”

And instead of brushing it off or deflecting it away like he always does, Yunho surprises him by looking up and giving him a rare unguarded smile. 

“Thanks.”

***

"I should come with you.” Mingi says from his bed. “I’m mostly healed up now.”

"No you can't. And no you aren’t."

"But I wanna go."

Yunho laughs. "Well, you can't."

"No fucking. No fighting. No driving. No laughing. Just Bed Rest! I can't do anything fun."

He comes over to stand next to Mingi’s bed. "What's it gonna take for you to stop whining?"

"All of the above. Especially the first one.

"Too bad.” Yunho smirks. “We can’t do that. I asked Wonwoo."

Mingi looks at him in disbelief. "What?! You asked Wonwoo?! About when we're allowed to fuck? Are you serious?"

Yunho goes to pull his black backpack from their wardrobe. "Yeah, so? He reads medical books in his spare time. He knows these things.”

"I thought you didn't want anyone to know about us…like that?"

"Everybody knows. They just all pretend they don't. Wonwoo is the smartest and least likely to talk.”

"Well what did he say?"

"4 more weeks."

There's a loud groan. "You have got to be kidding. I'm not gonna make it that long!”

"Yes, you can. You've gone longer."

"We were having a fight! Not like I had a choice there."

"You could've picked someone up at a club." Yunho says casually as he checks his guns. 

Mingi knows this game. It's a test. "How do you know I didn't?"

Yunho snorts. "You're a terrible liar. You'd cry and confess in two days. It’s why you never do actual recon or info missions.”

"I’m not that bad. And I wouldn't!"

"Okay. Did you pick someone up when we were fighting?"

"Well, no." He starts, interrupted by Yunho’s quiet laughter. "But I could've. Do you want me to?"

"You're free to do what you want."

He hates it when Yunho is better at this than him. It started as a game years ago, he doesn’t know why they still do it when they’ve said everything and done everything but get married. 

"So you like the idea of me of being with someone else?" 

Yunho freezes then, sliding the gun in its place with a loud click. They lock eyes from across the room. "Have you done that?"

"No..."

Yunho walks over to the bed, leaning down with the freshly loaded gun right by Mingi’s head. “Good. Because I'll kill them."

"I know." 

Mingi is sucked into an open mouthed kiss that ends as abruptly as it begins. He protests about it but Yunho just laughs fondly, ruffles his hair and goes back to cleaning his guns on their bedroom floor.

Mingi has never been in love with anyone before, he doesn't know if this is what it is. But what else could it be? 

Instinctively, he turned to hide his scars, knowing as soon as the boy's eyes landed on them, he'd run back to his mother, frightened and screaming. Leaving his shirt off had been the absolute worst idea he’d ever had. He’d struggled with it over and over and now wished he would have worn one; his usual long sleeved tee. Being hot and sweaty was preferable to the fear snaking up his body, rooting him to the spot. He held his breath, waiting for disaster to strike. 

“Jon...hey, Jon. I’m here; it’s going to be okay.” 

Jon didn’t even hear him. 

The boy gazed at the crashed kite, a lone tear escaping from the corner of his eye to roll down a chubby cheek, smeared with what looked like chocolate. Dark brown curly hair blew free in the breeze. 

The world faded away when the boy gazed up at him with wide brown eyes, full lower lip quivering. Jon was sure any minute he’d begin to wail and the wailing would turn to a howl when he finally saw Jon's scars. 

"M-m-my k-k-kite," he stammered in a tear filled voice. He pointed at their feet, in case they hadn't already noticed. But all Jon noticed was the boy's arm, his kite completely forgotten. The arm aiming at the kite was horribly scarred, all the way up to the elbow. The shimmering big brown eyes locked on Jon’s. How do I talk to a child?

Kaidan moved between the two, sitting on the backs of his legs, toes digging into the sand. He smiled at the child, “Let’s check your kite and see how it looks, okay?” 

The boy sniffled, wiped a hand under his nose, and nodded. His mother caught up to them just then wrapping her arms protectively around his shoulders. Breathless, she apologized, “I’m so sorry he’s bothered you.” To her son, her voice was soft and gentle but firm, “Levi, you can’t run off like that without me, okay? And you shouldn’t bother these nice gentlemen.” 

He twisted, trying to free himself from her protective hold, turning to look up at her, “But my k-k-kite! I h-h-had to c-catch it!” He explained in a tear soaked voice. Levi looked back at Kaidan who held the kite, carefully smoothing it out and untangling the string. It appeared to be intact. “Is it okay? Can I f-fly it again?” 

The epitome of patience as always, Kaidan nodded and smiled, gently reassuring him, “I think it’ll fly again. Here you go.” He handed it over, the chubby hands grasping for it with a look of wonder, tears evaporating as if they’d never been. “Thank you!”  

The boy’s mother smiled at Kaidan, echoing her son, “Yes, thank you so much.” 

She glanced over at Jon with brown eyes the same color as her son’s. Her gaze slid over his scars but without shock or disgust. Before she could turn him away, Levi’s glance landed on them as well. Jon tensed, anticipating the inevitable explosion but to his surprise, it never came. 

Levi stepped closer, reaching out. His mother grasped his hand. “Levi!” she reprimanded, “You can’t touch someone without their permission.” 

Crestfallen, he looked ready to cry again. 

To his surprise, Jon said, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” By the intake of breath at his side, Kaidan was surprised as well. 

But Levi turned the tables on them all. “We have matching scars! Do you wanna touch mine, too?” 

The matter-of-fact question rattled him so much, he couldn’t manage to answer. Levi deflated...until Kaidan reached for Jon’s hand, snapping him out of his trance. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, right Jon?”

“Uh...sure,” he spoke with more conviction than he felt. 

Reaching out with tentative fingers, ashamed of how badly his hand shook, Jon gently let his fingertips glide over them, losing himself in the touch and feel of someone else’s outward trauma. The scars were marled with raised ridges, thin rivers of pale pink in the sunlight. The boy giggled and Jon snatched his hand away, the spell broken.  

Hand still shaking, he started when a warm hand slid around it and squeezed. Kaidan. 

The boy giggled, "That tickled!" 

Inspired by the courage of the small boy before him, Jon sat in the sand so he could be on the same level. "You wanted to touch mine, too, right?" 

Levi nodded, extending his hand but then pausing and looking up at his mother. Realizing the suggestion may have been too forward, Jon looked up at her. She’d been watching them, her son's earlier tears seemed to have found a home in her eyes. Blinking several times, they glistened with unshed tears. She gave her consent to them both with a nod. 

Levi needed no further urging, touching Jon’s scars. It still took every ounce of strength he possessed not to flinch or pull away when those tiny fingers traced every inch of scarred skin. So far no hysterics and as Levi continued to explore, Jon felt his fears ebb away, like waves going back out to sea. He lost himself in the wonder of the child before him, filled with bravery and the absence of doubt. No thought to how the outside world would view him. Jon hoped those values remained through his whole life. 

"They’re all...ribbly," Levi told him. 

"Ribbly, huh?" At the boy's emphatic nod, he chuckled, "I suppose they are." 

"Levi, we need to go." 

The boy gave a very adult sigh, garnering a chuckle from his mother and Kaidan, before leaving. Following his mother back down the beach, he suddenly turned back to Jon, gave a shy grin and wave, turned back and began to run, tossing a ‘bye’ over his shoulder. Their bodies became smaller until they took a path into the trees and disappeared. 

Still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened, he was startled when Kaidan spoke up, "You okay?"

He stood up and brushed the sand off his legs, using the action to get his emotions under control. "Sure, I'm good."

The words were true. Actually, he felt more than good. Never comfortable around people after the mission which had given him the scars and more than a little terrified of their possible reaction, he found himself a little poleaxed by the whole scene. His present fears put into perspective by the naivete of a child. He was smart enough to know moving forward wouldn't be so easy; he still had quite a few giant hurdles to jump over. But it was a start. Doc Chakwas would likely give him one of her knowing smiles when he relayed the story to her. 

"Want some shaved ice?" 

Sounded wonderful. His throat was dry from stress and the sun hung high up in the sky since they'd left their bungalow. The air was hot, humid, and wet. "Yeah. Blue raspberry if they have it." 

Kaidan walked to the vendor while Jon waited, not quite ready to endure more scrutiny of his scars. He came back with two paper cups; blue raspberry for Jon, lemon for him. "Here you go." 

Jon took it, spooning out a bite. Cool and refreshing. "Mmmm, perfect." 

Kaidan quipped, "The ice or me?"

Not missing a beat, Jon leaned over and kissed him thoroughly, "Why, you, of course." 

Kaidan looked at him and laughed, "Your lips are already blue." 

"Guess you'll just have to clean them off then." 

"Mmmm, I'd enjoy that." 

Jon took another bite and licked his lips, making sure they were blue. Kaidan nudged his shoulder, causing them both to stumble and nearly drop their paper cups. He felt happy and content even as exhaustion crept over him from the encounter with Levi. A good outcome but he hadn't noticed how on edge he'd been throughout it all. 

"Ready to head back? We’re on island time now. We can nap if we want to." 

It was almost scary how Kaidan could read him so easily now. Sneaking a sideways look, Jon couldn't tell if Kaidan meant he wanted to take one as well, though he didn't look tired. In fact, he looked like he could spend the rest of the day running around the island. It almost wasn't fair...except the nap was calling him and Jon was powerless to resist its pull. 

"Yeah, a nap sounds good." 

He barely remembered his head hitting the pillow. 

Jon awoke to gauzy curtains swaying gently in a warm breeze coming in from the beach. Their bungalow sat close by, the glass doors to the bedroom taking advantage of the beautiful sunsets and warm, westerly zephyrs. Unwilling to move, he remained in bed, content to enjoy the view out the windows. 

But then the bed dipped behind him and he turned to find an even better view; Kaidan must have taken a nap as well. The sleepy-eyed, tousled-hair look was infinitely more appealing then what he’d been looking at outside. 

"Hey, there." His voice was deep and raspy with the remnants of sleep. Jon could get drunk on that voice. 

"Hey. Looks like you napped a bit too." 

"Yeah. Read a bit before I followed you down the same rabbit hole." He stretched with a yawn, Jon admiring the play of muscles as they moved under his golden skin, a tad darker after walking in the sun. "I'm going to take a shower, then thought we could take a walk before dinner." 

"Shower sounds great but what is it with the constant need to walk? Thought we were here to relax," he grumbled. 

"Oh come on, it’ll be a nice evening stroll. Help you work up an appetite.” 

Voice muffled against the pillow, he countered with, “I can think of better ways.” 

“Oh, so can I but we have plans. Ones I can’t change.” 

With a heavy sigh, Jon flopped out of bed and followed him into the bathroom. Not usually the one to instigate sex, he nonetheless tried to take advantage, but Kaidan’s ‘plans’ didn't include shower sex. 

And damned if it didn’t have him more than a little curious about what those plans were.

Freshly showered and dressed island style, which for them meant barefoot and shirtless with cargo shorts, Kaidan walked outside, calling back over his shoulder, "Lets go. We can watch the sun set as we walk." 

Dazzling white sand, warm from a day in the sun, was soft beneath their feet. The fronds of the palm trees swayed gently against a sky turning golden with the glow of the sun, just beginning its descent towards the horizon. 

Kaidan reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together and Jon felt a comfortable peace steal over him for the first time in...well, ever. He gazed at their hands and knew he wouldn’t change his life right now for anything. 

Before leaving the resort area, they stopped to purchase a couple of drinks; colorful, frozen, fruity things with umbrellas in them. They even came in a coconut shell. Jon drank his too fast through the straw, getting a brain freeze for his trouble. 

He stumbled, Kaidan grasping his hand tight and pulling back, trying ot keep him from falling. Jon looked down, surprised to see seashells in the shape of a heart. “Hey, look Kaidan. D’you see this?” 

“A heart made from seashells. Wonder who made it?” 

“I don’t know but someone was creative. I hope the tide doesn’t wash it away.” 

“It would be a shame, wouldn’t it.” 

There was something different in his voice but Jon couldn’t figure out what. Before he had a chance to mull it over, Kaidan pulled him forward. A few meters further and Jon saw a heart drawn in the sand. Surprisingly, it remained untouched by the waves. Inside it had been etched the words - once in a lifetime love. 

“Another heart. Someone went to great lengths to let them know they’re loved.” 

“Yeah, they sure did. Kinda reminds me of our message bottles, you know?” 

Jon gazed at him steadily, “Yeah...I suppose so.” 

Could it be Kaidan? No, there hadn’t been time for him to get away and do all this. 

They strolled at a relaxed, leisurely pace. Kaidan sipped slowly at his frozen drink while Jon had already finished his. 

Out of the blue, he asked, “You ever think about what you want to do with the rest of your life?” 

Jon gazed out over the ocean, watching as the sun began to color the underside of the white clouds floating lazily across sky in pastel hues of blue, pink, lavender and orange. The colors reflected in the ocean, all melding together in the current. He took a moment to think about Kaidan’s question. What did he want to do with the rest of his life? 

“I...I guess I haven’t, really. Have you?” 

“Well, I planned it around a career I thought I’d have the rest of my life. Spent the last thirty plus years focusing on one specific goal. Guess I didn’t really think about or plan beyond it.” 

Jon nodded, “I understand. Same thing for me, I suppose.” 

“Then, just like this,” he snapped his fingers, “it’s all gone. How do you start over? Where do you go and...with who?”

“With...who?” 

“Yeah...with who. I mean, I’ve never had a serious relationship before, guess maybe I’m choosy or...or patient--” Jon snorted and Kaidan bumped him in the shoulder with a quiet chuckle. 

“Patient, huh?” The laughter left his voice, “You are patient, Kaidan. Endlessly so.” Almost embarrassed at what he was admitting, his words were quiet, almost lost in the surf nearby, “ I mean, you have been - you are - with me.” 

Dusk had begun to fall in earnest and Jon wondered why they hadn’t begun to head back for dinner. Kaidan was quiet, not exactly out of the ordinary, but he seemed unusually introspective tonight. 

“I think what I want - something I’ve never truly found - is a deeper relationship with someone I...care about.” 

Jon swore his heart stopped for several seconds before it began beating again. Kaidan...was...he cared about someone? Rattled as his thoughts were, the one his mind latched onto was…’not me.’ 

“You...” his voice cracked on the single syllable and he coughed, tried again, “you care about. So, what you’re trying to say is--”

Kaidan stopped and turned to face him, never letting go of his hand, stopping Jon’s flow of words. He hadn’t noticed they were in a clearing. Tiki torches glowed softly in the dark, the sun finally having tipped over the horizon. 

A canopy had been set up over a single dining table set with plates and glasse. Next to it were covered serving dishes, a bucket full of ice to keep a bottle of champagne cold. Lights were twined around the canopy, adding to the glow of the torches. A radio played music softly. The scene was stunning, beautiful and Jon was thoroughly confused. 

At least, until he saw a heart drawn in the sand in front of the canopy with the words Love for a lifetime. 

He wasn’t sure what was happening, though it became clear rather quickly. 

Kaidan went down on one knee, “Jon, I love you with all my heart. After all the time we’ve been together I’ve realized I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you.” Pulling a ring from the pocket of his shorts, he held it up. “Will you marry me?”

Stunned into silence, he stared at the ring, up at Kaidan, back to the ring. It was incredible: Trimmed in gold on the top and bottom, in the middle was a double row of waves in white. 

Mind crowded with thoughts, he knew Kaidan was getting more anxious with every passing second. Why would this man, so...so perfect, want to spend the rest of his life with...him? He was broken. Oh, he loved Kaidan, had realized it months ago, but never expected he’d want to stay and would just move on the day his endless patience finally ran out. 

But it hadn't and he was still here, right now...waiting on an answer. 

"Hello? Jon?" 

He searched the anxious brown eyes, saw nothing but honesty and love. 

"Yes, Kaidan. I will." 

A song came on and Jon thought the lyrics were perfect: 

I'm diving into the deep end

And I'm not scared, I'm not scared

And I've been way over my head

And I'm not scared, I'm not scared, no **  

Glancing around the cabin, Knox wondered why he was so damn nervous. Nothing was out of place, all his things meticulously maintained and where they belonged. The only mess to be found were the piles of datapads scattered over the desk. He was having a hard time keeping on top of them. The barrage of information was constant, barely able to read one before another was thrust into his hands. 

Enough. No more stalling. Leaning casually against the ledge along the fish tank, he crossed his arms and ankles. He could give the impression of being relaxed, even if he didn’t feel it. 

“Let him in, EDI.” 

The door slid open. The world narrowed to just one man and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and pushed away a sudden unknown emotion he felt as his eyes landed on Alenko standing on the other side. He waited for the major to make the first move having invaded his refuge.

Stepping inside, the major nodded at Knox, “Commander.” 

So formal. It should put Knox at ease but instead it irritated him. Irrationally so. Wanting to shake the ground beneath Alenko’s feet, he said, “Call me Knox.” 

Thick dark eyebrows rose up in response, surprised. Good. Knox felt more at ease with the knowledge.

“Okay...Knox,” Kaidan drew out the one syllable as if trying out the feel of it. “Then I ask that you call me Kaidan.” 

Knox simply continued to stare at him, not responding. The silence stretched out and his impatience began to grown. He did not like to be kept waiting. 

“Was there something you needed?” His words came out harsher than intended but if it prompted a response, so be it. 

Brown eyes, wariness in their depths, looked away, the tips of Kaidan’s ears becoming pink. Interesting. He rubbed the back of his neck, a tell Knox had seen often when he was unsure about something or embarrassed. Which was it this time? 

“I…” he took a deep breath, then turned an looked Knox right in the eyes, “I wanted to apologize for my distrust back on Mars, for questioning your loyalties. I realize now you’re the commander I’ve known since Eden Prime and I’m happy to fight by your side...sir.” 

Straightening up, Knox strode over slowly, coming to a stop before him, crowding his space. The air around them was charged with electricity. He spoke quietly, calmly, but with steel in his voice, “Only now?”

Kaidan didn’t look away this time. The intensity in his gaze made Knox’s blood heat. There was more going on here than what one could see on the surface. 

“What is it exactly you want from me?” 

Merde! What a loaded question he was asking. Deciding he needed a drink, Knox turned towards his desk where he kept a bottle of whiskey. He splashed some of the amber liquid into a glass, uncaring when it slosed over the side. Maybe the burn as it went down would put him back on solid ground. The ground he’d tried to shake beneath Kaidan’s feet had backfired. This was new territory for him. 

He tossed the whiskey back, turning to hold up his empty glass, "Drink?"   

Kaidan hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. Knox poured another for himself, then handed the other glass over. The major sipped sparingly, eyes widening a fraction in surprise. 

Knox shrugged, "I liked the whiskey you added to the bar. Bought some for myself."

An inadvertent admission. He wandered over to watch the fish, lest Kaidan read more into it. Silence followed his words and he turned to find the major browsing the datapads. Knox bristled at the invasion of his privacy, ready to let fly with harsh words and criticism but his inner voice caught up to him and told him to stop. 

There was nothing more than intel about the war and the crucible and maybe Kaidan would be able to provide some insight, see things from a different angle...as he usually did.

Instead, Knox kept quiet and observed him, refusing to admit to himself he was actually committing to memory every nuance of the man across the room. Suddenly, Kaidan’s body tensed up, fingers coming to rest on one specific datapad. Having so many open, Knox couldn’t remember what intel was in each one and now he was curious at the reason for the strange response. 

"Find something?" 

Kaidan’s hand snapped to his side as if caught in a trap. Placing the unfinished drink on the desk, he turned to leave with an excuse at the ready, "I should go get acquainted with the crew." 

Knox moved quickly, stepping in front of him, so close he could see the variations of color in the expressive brown eyes. His own eyes traveled at leisure over Kaidan’s face; new scars blending with old ones, a few more wrinkles and gray hairs from the passage of time and the stress they were under...a tinge of pink on his cheeks. 

Their eyes locked. For the first time ever, Knox found himself lost. Unable to process the feeling, he did what came natural. He charged ahead. 

The world around them ceased to exist, narrowing down to just the two of them, Kaidan’s breath hitching for a fraction of second before relaxing into the kiss, opening eagerly as Knox slid his tongue inside. Pressing up against him, their feet  tangled and they stumbled across the room, Kaidan’s back stopping them up against the fish tank. Knox planted his palms to each side while Kaidan grasped at his clothing. 

They sank into the kiss, neither willing to be the first to let it end. But end it did, Knox pulling away first. What the fuck was he thinking, kissing a member of his crew? There wasn’t time for personal relationships, death on the horizon or not. Things like this just got messy and caused more problems than he needed right now. Either of them needed. 

He walked back to the desk, leaving Kaidan where he was. How he felt about what happened was of no concern to him. Leaning into his arms, hands pushing the datapads aside, one blinked to life. The one Kaidan had been looking at. On the screen was the Cerberus husk they’d found on Mars where Kaidan had questioned if the terrorist organization had done the same to him. 

Behind him, the door slid open and he heard footsteps as Kaidan left his cabin.