APTF [13/13]
Title: A Prayer Time Forgot
Length: Chaptered [13/13]
Rating: NC17 now, to be safe.
Genre: Umm. Unsure. Angst, supernatural, generally. Weirdness. We'll see.
Pairing: Yes, there are pairings. (Gasp! A first!) I'm guessing it's YunJae.
Summary: Let’s play.
Previous chapters found here.
A/N: Please. Don't. Kill. Me.
---
Chapter Thirteen
(At night, the city seems to transform. Buildings gleam under moonlight, loom over them like steel giants with millions of distant staring eyes, and cars appear from out of nowhere, rush and zoom down the roads without warning only to vanish again as though the night has swallowed them whole. Yoochun is cold; the wind keeps whipping his hood off of his head. Moving air strikes his face and makes his eyes sting. The hold on his hand tightens.
Have you ever played by the river before?
He doesn’t want to be here. He wants Yunho hyung.
…No, he says and bites his lip to keep himself from crying. He promised. He promised.
Ever played flashlight tag with the big kids? Comes the next question, and his playmate’s smile is stretched thin across his face.
No, he answers, quicker now because the sooner they get this done the sooner he can get home, isn’t it? His playmate laughs and pulls him close and Yoochun can smell the scent of fresh earth on him.
We’re going to have fun tonight then, aren’t we? Yessiree, we’re going to have fun tonight.)
***
Something is wrong.
(Yoochun, Yoochun, take me to Yoochun, he’d told, begged, Junsu, Where is he? We have to keep him safe.
What are you talking about? He’s already safe at my parents’ house, he’s-Jaejoong! Jaejoong! Goddamnit, Changmin, go with him!)
Changmin presses on the intercom situated at the gate outside of the large house. One. Two.
(How far is Junsu’s parents’ house? he asks Changmin who’s at the wheel, knuckles white and face illuminated with streaked city lights. How far is it?
Ten, twenty minutes, hyung-
Is he alone? Is Yoochun alone?, is the last thing Jaejoong wants to know because it’s the most important. When Changmin takes a minute too long to answer, he slams a palm onto the dashboard. Shit!
What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong!
Just fucking drive faster!)
…Three. Four.
“Come on,” he hears Changmin mutter. He watches the shadows warily as he paces, his shoes making heavy scuffling noises on the road. “Come on…”
The intercom crackles, and then the loud angry voice of an older man. “What the hell is going on? Who’s out there?”
Changmin grasps at words and buttons. “Uncle, uncle it’s me, Changmin. I’m sorry for disturbing you at this late hour but-”
Goddamn kid, cut the formalities, Jaejoong almost growls.
“-Uncle, about Jung Yoochun, the child staying with you. Could you check and see if he’s in his room?”
The reply brings forth a burst of unwanted static. “Shim Changmin what on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s in his room! Where else would he be? Go home before I call up your parents and tell them where you are at this hour!”
“No! Uncle, it’s really important. Please could you just go once and see if he’s there? It’s an emergency.” Changmin’s palms are pressed onto the brick post holding the gate. “Please, uncle.”
A woman’s voice cuts through the conversation. “Honey, what’s going on-?” and Jaejoong clasps his hands behind his neck, wrings his fingers, hopes with all of his might that his instincts are wrong. They’re running out of time.
“Changmin, let me talk to them!” he stomps over to the intercom but Changmin pushes him away, the younger boy’s strength nearly sending him sprawling on the road. “If they won’t listen to me you think they’ll listen to you? Let me handle it!” Changmin tells him, looking almost as panicked as he feels.
“Changmin, Changmin-ah, what’s wrong?” Junsu’s mother now. “Honey, what’s the matter?”
“He’s asking me to check on the boy Junsu asked us to keep an eye on…” and then Junsu’s father takes over the intercom again. “Shim Changmin if this is some kind of joke, I will personally give you a beating you will never-”
A faint scream cuts through the man’s voice and then panicked footfall.
“Yeobo, Yeobo, the boy’s gone! And there are FOOTPRINTS on the windowsill-!”
“JAEJOONG!” He hears Changmin scream from behind him, but Jaejoong doesn’t wait. In seconds, he’s revved Changmin’s car engine to life and has torn down the road.
***
The scene is playing again but this time Yunho is reduced to being just a pair of eyes. Siwon is no longer there but he is, nine years old again, lithe and limber, running down a path he’s been able to know so well in dreams.
Come on, Yoochun. Don’t be such a baby, he hears, and when he looks, the boy is in the middle of the river, holding out a pale hand to Yoochun crouched down on the opposite bank.
No! Yoochun! He screams, but Yoochun doesn’t hear him. He runs faster. His heart is a hummingbird trapped in a cage and the river is cold as it surrounds his ankles. Seconds later, the water reaches his waist, but Yoochun is still so far away. Yoochun! Please-
(I’ve already told you.)
The next few words die in his throat as he feels fingers wrap around his ankles from underneath the churning water.
(You’re too late.)
And then the forest, the sky, the river is gone and Yunho’s fingers are still reaching up, towards the light, towards Yoochun, as he’s dragged underwater.
***
He doesn’t need to think. The Han is a fifteen-minute drive from Junsu’s house but he makes it there in eight, racing down near-empty streets and shortcuts he had never thought would be so useful. He tries the bridges first, slowing the car down enough and bracing himself for any sign of the small boy leaning against the railings.
Yoochun-ah, Jaejoong mutters, squinting in the dark, it’s hyung, Yoochun-ah. Come out.
Minutes tick by, and he passes all three without even finding a single clue of Yoochun’s presence. In the end, he doesn’t know whether he should feel relieved or more terrified; the Han is as wide as it is long.
(This is hide-and-seek, Jaejoong-ah, a voice in his head says, You should have been used to it by now, seeing as you’ve been hiding your entire miserable life.)
“Damn you,” he hisses, night air thick in his mouth and fear turning his vision almost black. “Where did you take him?”
Tears come unbidden and Jaejoong’s hands shake against the wheel. The only reply he receives is the beating of his own heart meshed with the stirrings of the sleeping city that has him in its embrace.
(Can’t catch me now, can you, Jaejoong-ah?)
“Damn it!”
***
(The Han is shining almost silver under the moonlight. Under the bridge, Yoochun sits by the bank, arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep himself warm.
Pretty isn’t it? His playmate smiles and when Yoochun looks, he can swear he can see nothing of the boy reflected on the water’s black surface. Listen.
Yoochun looks up, strains his ears. To what? he asks, because there’s nothing but the sound of water lapping at the sides.
Listen, his playmate insists, and Yoochun moves closer to the edge. There’s nothing at first, nothing other than water and crickets and the faint whistling of wind as it passes through tall reeds. But then there it is, and Yoochun almost jumps up in surprise: laughter.
Who…? He asks, then follows with his eyes where his playmate is pointing at: in the shadows, in the bowels under the bridge, he can make out circles of light darting to and fro around the cement supports.
Flashlight tag, his playmate beams. I told you, didn’t I?
Yoochun watches as his playmate takes a step into the water but doesn’t sink anywhere below his ankles. His eyes widen. How…?
It isn’t deep, comes the explanation, Come on Yoochun-ah.
A hand is extended to him.
Let’s play.)
***
Yellow. Jaejoong sees yellow first and he stops the car sudden enough for the tires to screech just as he’s rounding the corner from the bridge to the road.
Yellow under the bridge. Yellow where it’s supposed to be black. Yellow where it’s supposed to be just shadows and water.
“Yoochun!” he screams unconsciously, fumbles to free himself from the confines of the car. He flings open the door and starts running. “Yoochun!”
Pavement, then cobbled stone. His shoes make empty thumping sounds as he crosses from the road to the sidewalk, then to bike paths parallel to the Han.
“Yoochun!”
The grass is wet with dew and he slips and lands on his stomach. The scent of the earth so near his nostrils is strong enough to make him gag. When he pulls himself up, pain shoots up from his ankle. He shoots a quick glance at the spot under the bridge, praying he isn’t dreaming. From where he is, he can see more clearly.
Yoochun in pajamas and sneakers. Yoochun in a yellow hoodie. Yoochun on the edge of the Han, hand reaching out to darkness, eyes transfixed on something Jaejoong can’t see.
“YOOCHUN!”
He screams it loud enough to wake the city, but Yoochun doesn’t even turn his head. To Jaejoong’s horror, a step is taken, then another,
“NO!”
then a splash and Yoochun is gone, swallowed whole by the river.
***
He’s trapped underwater, suspended between the surface and the depths of a river that seems more sea. He sees the splash, an explosion of bubbles and light above him, and Yunho thrashes against the hold that has him tied in place, but he remains where he is. It’s Yoochun, he knows, and he reaches out, eyes widening, a string of bubbles escaping from his nose.
No, is the only thing his heart can scream when he sees Yoochun isn’t moving, isn’t even struggling to pull himself up towards the surface, no no no no
(He’s a very good boy, Yoochun. Does what he’s told. He’s given up, you see. He’s given himself up, for you.)
NO, Yunho opens his mouth to scream and water floods his throat.
(Don’t make it any harder for yourself, Yunnie. Give up.)
I’m sorry, he pleads, because it’s the only thing he has left to say. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
But it never seems to be enough.
***
“YOOCHUN!”
He ignores the pain in his leg and forces himself to stand, to run towards the bank where Yoochun had been moments ago, his head spinning and his mouth dry. He doesn’t hesitate: in seconds, his coat and his boots are off and he’s jumped into the river.
Black, black, everything is black.
Jaejoong surfaces seconds after his first attempt to search. The water stabs his skin like a billion knives and he sputters, unsure if it’s the weight of his clothes or the cold that’s pulling him down.
“Yoochun!” he cries, his voice ringing clear under the bridge. He’s fighting to keep himself afloat, his legs and arms doing continuous circles underwater.
(Give up, he hears, but he grits his teeth, breaths coming out in harsh gasps as the cold seeps from his skin and into his bones)
“Yoochun!”
He goes under again, forces himself to open his eyes in the depths, forces the overwhelming feeling of despair to disappear despite him seeing only darkness and his hands grasping only water.
(He’s dead, the voice says again)
No one’s dead, goddamnit! No one’s going to die, he retaliates, although tears are stinging his eyes and his muscles are starting to ache. No one is going to die.
He feels the current pull at him and when he surfaces once more he isn’t under the bridge anymore. He gasps in air as his chest constricts both from the tears he refuses to let out and the hope that’s slowly being sucked out of him. He can barely feel his limbs save for the throbbing pain in his ankle. His hair is plastered to his face and drips water down and into his nose, making it harder for him to breathe. But he can’t give up, he can’t…
“Yoochun!” he calls one last time, because his throat is raw and he can barely keep his head above the water. “Yoochun, please…”
And then there: yellow in black, floating several feet away from him.
“Yoochun-ah!”
He swims faster than he’s ever done, ignoring the pain that renders his one leg useless. He’s able to get a grasp of Yoochun with one hand and succeeds in pulling him close, his chest about to burst from extreme relief and fatigue.
No one is going to die.
“Yoochunnie, hold on, okay? Hyung’s got you,” he tells the boy, cold and unmoving in his hold. How long has it been? One minute? Two? “You’ll be okay. I promise. Hyung will make sure you’ll be okay…”
With two of them, swimming gets harder and Jaejoong manages to swallow a gulp of water as he attempts to keep them afloat.
“HEY!” he hears, half-garbled with the water that’s managed to get into his ears. Someone has seen them. He blinks and a teenager is chasing them down the river bank, his girlfriend fast behind him. “Oh my God, what happened-”
“Take him!” he forces himself to cry out. “Yoochun…take Yoochun!” He lifts Yoochun up with extra effort against the current, and cries out in pain when his muscles scream at the attempt.
“I’m calling an ambulance-”
His leg is cramping and Jaejoong takes in an extra mouthful of water.
“TAKE HIM!”
He doesn’t know what happens next but suddenly Yoochun is gone from his hold and he’s falling, under, under, his arms and legs too heavy for him to bring himself up.
I can’t give up, I can’t I can’t I can’t
But his clothes are weighing him down and struggling only depletes his strength, urges him to take in more water as he opens his mouth to try and breathe. The light disappears and all he’s left with is water, the ghost of his own voice echoing in his ears.
(No one is going to die)
His lungs are burning and he wonders if this is what dying feels like: quiet and dark, with only himself to turn to. The cold has managed to numb his leg enough for the pain to subside even a little and in the strange silence, Jaejoong remembers Yunho.
He pictures Yunho in his head. Yunho before the accident. Yunho before everything. Yunho with the smile, the laugh, the golden heart. Yunho, whom he hurt, who was hurt more than he deserved.
Jaejoong-ah, he can almost hear Yunho saying, yah, you’ll come back won’t you?
He closes his eyes. His chest feels hollow, and all the tears Jaejoong knows he can’t shed he releases in his heart. The surface is too far up and he’s far too heavy and far too tired. To swim. To fight. He doesn’t know if Yoochun is all right, doesn’t know if Yunho will live, and it tears at him.
I’m sorry.
(For everything. For living. For meeting. For loving.)
He pictures Yunho, his soft eyes, his creamy skin. Memorizes him. Loves him.
(Give up, a voice says, but this time, it’s coming from him)
I love you.
***
The last thing he feels is a hand clasping his and dragging him out of the depths, out of the darkness and into the light, and on the opposite part of Seoul, despite doctors’ opinion and despite medical evidence that he had, in fact, been surely dying hours ago, Yunho slowly opens his eyes, the ghost of a kiss resting softly against his lips, the phantom touch of a hand still warm in his palm.
I love you.
A/N: THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE. I REPEAT, THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE. *runs and hides from screaming, brick-throwing, pitchfork-wielding fangirls*
Length: Chaptered [13/13]
Rating: NC17 now, to be safe.
Genre: Umm. Unsure. Angst, supernatural, generally. Weirdness. We'll see.
Pairing: Yes, there are pairings. (Gasp! A first!) I'm guessing it's YunJae.
Summary: Let’s play.
Previous chapters found here.
A/N: Please. Don't. Kill. Me.
---
Chapter Thirteen
(At night, the city seems to transform. Buildings gleam under moonlight, loom over them like steel giants with millions of distant staring eyes, and cars appear from out of nowhere, rush and zoom down the roads without warning only to vanish again as though the night has swallowed them whole. Yoochun is cold; the wind keeps whipping his hood off of his head. Moving air strikes his face and makes his eyes sting. The hold on his hand tightens.
Have you ever played by the river before?
He doesn’t want to be here. He wants Yunho hyung.
…No, he says and bites his lip to keep himself from crying. He promised. He promised.
Ever played flashlight tag with the big kids? Comes the next question, and his playmate’s smile is stretched thin across his face.
No, he answers, quicker now because the sooner they get this done the sooner he can get home, isn’t it? His playmate laughs and pulls him close and Yoochun can smell the scent of fresh earth on him.
We’re going to have fun tonight then, aren’t we? Yessiree, we’re going to have fun tonight.)
***
Something is wrong.
(Yoochun, Yoochun, take me to Yoochun, he’d told, begged, Junsu, Where is he? We have to keep him safe.
What are you talking about? He’s already safe at my parents’ house, he’s-Jaejoong! Jaejoong! Goddamnit, Changmin, go with him!)
Changmin presses on the intercom situated at the gate outside of the large house. One. Two.
(How far is Junsu’s parents’ house? he asks Changmin who’s at the wheel, knuckles white and face illuminated with streaked city lights. How far is it?
Ten, twenty minutes, hyung-
Is he alone? Is Yoochun alone?, is the last thing Jaejoong wants to know because it’s the most important. When Changmin takes a minute too long to answer, he slams a palm onto the dashboard. Shit!
What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong!
Just fucking drive faster!)
…Three. Four.
“Come on,” he hears Changmin mutter. He watches the shadows warily as he paces, his shoes making heavy scuffling noises on the road. “Come on…”
The intercom crackles, and then the loud angry voice of an older man. “What the hell is going on? Who’s out there?”
Changmin grasps at words and buttons. “Uncle, uncle it’s me, Changmin. I’m sorry for disturbing you at this late hour but-”
Goddamn kid, cut the formalities, Jaejoong almost growls.
“-Uncle, about Jung Yoochun, the child staying with you. Could you check and see if he’s in his room?”
The reply brings forth a burst of unwanted static. “Shim Changmin what on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s in his room! Where else would he be? Go home before I call up your parents and tell them where you are at this hour!”
“No! Uncle, it’s really important. Please could you just go once and see if he’s there? It’s an emergency.” Changmin’s palms are pressed onto the brick post holding the gate. “Please, uncle.”
A woman’s voice cuts through the conversation. “Honey, what’s going on-?” and Jaejoong clasps his hands behind his neck, wrings his fingers, hopes with all of his might that his instincts are wrong. They’re running out of time.
“Changmin, let me talk to them!” he stomps over to the intercom but Changmin pushes him away, the younger boy’s strength nearly sending him sprawling on the road. “If they won’t listen to me you think they’ll listen to you? Let me handle it!” Changmin tells him, looking almost as panicked as he feels.
“Changmin, Changmin-ah, what’s wrong?” Junsu’s mother now. “Honey, what’s the matter?”
“He’s asking me to check on the boy Junsu asked us to keep an eye on…” and then Junsu’s father takes over the intercom again. “Shim Changmin if this is some kind of joke, I will personally give you a beating you will never-”
A faint scream cuts through the man’s voice and then panicked footfall.
“Yeobo, Yeobo, the boy’s gone! And there are FOOTPRINTS on the windowsill-!”
“JAEJOONG!” He hears Changmin scream from behind him, but Jaejoong doesn’t wait. In seconds, he’s revved Changmin’s car engine to life and has torn down the road.
***
The scene is playing again but this time Yunho is reduced to being just a pair of eyes. Siwon is no longer there but he is, nine years old again, lithe and limber, running down a path he’s been able to know so well in dreams.
Come on, Yoochun. Don’t be such a baby, he hears, and when he looks, the boy is in the middle of the river, holding out a pale hand to Yoochun crouched down on the opposite bank.
No! Yoochun! He screams, but Yoochun doesn’t hear him. He runs faster. His heart is a hummingbird trapped in a cage and the river is cold as it surrounds his ankles. Seconds later, the water reaches his waist, but Yoochun is still so far away. Yoochun! Please-
(I’ve already told you.)
The next few words die in his throat as he feels fingers wrap around his ankles from underneath the churning water.
(You’re too late.)
And then the forest, the sky, the river is gone and Yunho’s fingers are still reaching up, towards the light, towards Yoochun, as he’s dragged underwater.
***
He doesn’t need to think. The Han is a fifteen-minute drive from Junsu’s house but he makes it there in eight, racing down near-empty streets and shortcuts he had never thought would be so useful. He tries the bridges first, slowing the car down enough and bracing himself for any sign of the small boy leaning against the railings.
Yoochun-ah, Jaejoong mutters, squinting in the dark, it’s hyung, Yoochun-ah. Come out.
Minutes tick by, and he passes all three without even finding a single clue of Yoochun’s presence. In the end, he doesn’t know whether he should feel relieved or more terrified; the Han is as wide as it is long.
(This is hide-and-seek, Jaejoong-ah, a voice in his head says, You should have been used to it by now, seeing as you’ve been hiding your entire miserable life.)
“Damn you,” he hisses, night air thick in his mouth and fear turning his vision almost black. “Where did you take him?”
Tears come unbidden and Jaejoong’s hands shake against the wheel. The only reply he receives is the beating of his own heart meshed with the stirrings of the sleeping city that has him in its embrace.
(Can’t catch me now, can you, Jaejoong-ah?)
“Damn it!”
***
(The Han is shining almost silver under the moonlight. Under the bridge, Yoochun sits by the bank, arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep himself warm.
Pretty isn’t it? His playmate smiles and when Yoochun looks, he can swear he can see nothing of the boy reflected on the water’s black surface. Listen.
Yoochun looks up, strains his ears. To what? he asks, because there’s nothing but the sound of water lapping at the sides.
Listen, his playmate insists, and Yoochun moves closer to the edge. There’s nothing at first, nothing other than water and crickets and the faint whistling of wind as it passes through tall reeds. But then there it is, and Yoochun almost jumps up in surprise: laughter.
Who…? He asks, then follows with his eyes where his playmate is pointing at: in the shadows, in the bowels under the bridge, he can make out circles of light darting to and fro around the cement supports.
Flashlight tag, his playmate beams. I told you, didn’t I?
Yoochun watches as his playmate takes a step into the water but doesn’t sink anywhere below his ankles. His eyes widen. How…?
It isn’t deep, comes the explanation, Come on Yoochun-ah.
A hand is extended to him.
Let’s play.)
***
Yellow. Jaejoong sees yellow first and he stops the car sudden enough for the tires to screech just as he’s rounding the corner from the bridge to the road.
Yellow under the bridge. Yellow where it’s supposed to be black. Yellow where it’s supposed to be just shadows and water.
“Yoochun!” he screams unconsciously, fumbles to free himself from the confines of the car. He flings open the door and starts running. “Yoochun!”
Pavement, then cobbled stone. His shoes make empty thumping sounds as he crosses from the road to the sidewalk, then to bike paths parallel to the Han.
“Yoochun!”
The grass is wet with dew and he slips and lands on his stomach. The scent of the earth so near his nostrils is strong enough to make him gag. When he pulls himself up, pain shoots up from his ankle. He shoots a quick glance at the spot under the bridge, praying he isn’t dreaming. From where he is, he can see more clearly.
Yoochun in pajamas and sneakers. Yoochun in a yellow hoodie. Yoochun on the edge of the Han, hand reaching out to darkness, eyes transfixed on something Jaejoong can’t see.
“YOOCHUN!”
He screams it loud enough to wake the city, but Yoochun doesn’t even turn his head. To Jaejoong’s horror, a step is taken, then another,
“NO!”
then a splash and Yoochun is gone, swallowed whole by the river.
***
He’s trapped underwater, suspended between the surface and the depths of a river that seems more sea. He sees the splash, an explosion of bubbles and light above him, and Yunho thrashes against the hold that has him tied in place, but he remains where he is. It’s Yoochun, he knows, and he reaches out, eyes widening, a string of bubbles escaping from his nose.
No, is the only thing his heart can scream when he sees Yoochun isn’t moving, isn’t even struggling to pull himself up towards the surface, no no no no
(He’s a very good boy, Yoochun. Does what he’s told. He’s given up, you see. He’s given himself up, for you.)
NO, Yunho opens his mouth to scream and water floods his throat.
(Don’t make it any harder for yourself, Yunnie. Give up.)
I’m sorry, he pleads, because it’s the only thing he has left to say. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
But it never seems to be enough.
***
“YOOCHUN!”
He ignores the pain in his leg and forces himself to stand, to run towards the bank where Yoochun had been moments ago, his head spinning and his mouth dry. He doesn’t hesitate: in seconds, his coat and his boots are off and he’s jumped into the river.
Black, black, everything is black.
Jaejoong surfaces seconds after his first attempt to search. The water stabs his skin like a billion knives and he sputters, unsure if it’s the weight of his clothes or the cold that’s pulling him down.
“Yoochun!” he cries, his voice ringing clear under the bridge. He’s fighting to keep himself afloat, his legs and arms doing continuous circles underwater.
(Give up, he hears, but he grits his teeth, breaths coming out in harsh gasps as the cold seeps from his skin and into his bones)
“Yoochun!”
He goes under again, forces himself to open his eyes in the depths, forces the overwhelming feeling of despair to disappear despite him seeing only darkness and his hands grasping only water.
(He’s dead, the voice says again)
No one’s dead, goddamnit! No one’s going to die, he retaliates, although tears are stinging his eyes and his muscles are starting to ache. No one is going to die.
He feels the current pull at him and when he surfaces once more he isn’t under the bridge anymore. He gasps in air as his chest constricts both from the tears he refuses to let out and the hope that’s slowly being sucked out of him. He can barely feel his limbs save for the throbbing pain in his ankle. His hair is plastered to his face and drips water down and into his nose, making it harder for him to breathe. But he can’t give up, he can’t…
“Yoochun!” he calls one last time, because his throat is raw and he can barely keep his head above the water. “Yoochun, please…”
And then there: yellow in black, floating several feet away from him.
“Yoochun-ah!”
He swims faster than he’s ever done, ignoring the pain that renders his one leg useless. He’s able to get a grasp of Yoochun with one hand and succeeds in pulling him close, his chest about to burst from extreme relief and fatigue.
No one is going to die.
“Yoochunnie, hold on, okay? Hyung’s got you,” he tells the boy, cold and unmoving in his hold. How long has it been? One minute? Two? “You’ll be okay. I promise. Hyung will make sure you’ll be okay…”
With two of them, swimming gets harder and Jaejoong manages to swallow a gulp of water as he attempts to keep them afloat.
“HEY!” he hears, half-garbled with the water that’s managed to get into his ears. Someone has seen them. He blinks and a teenager is chasing them down the river bank, his girlfriend fast behind him. “Oh my God, what happened-”
“Take him!” he forces himself to cry out. “Yoochun…take Yoochun!” He lifts Yoochun up with extra effort against the current, and cries out in pain when his muscles scream at the attempt.
“I’m calling an ambulance-”
His leg is cramping and Jaejoong takes in an extra mouthful of water.
“TAKE HIM!”
He doesn’t know what happens next but suddenly Yoochun is gone from his hold and he’s falling, under, under, his arms and legs too heavy for him to bring himself up.
I can’t give up, I can’t I can’t I can’t
But his clothes are weighing him down and struggling only depletes his strength, urges him to take in more water as he opens his mouth to try and breathe. The light disappears and all he’s left with is water, the ghost of his own voice echoing in his ears.
(No one is going to die)
His lungs are burning and he wonders if this is what dying feels like: quiet and dark, with only himself to turn to. The cold has managed to numb his leg enough for the pain to subside even a little and in the strange silence, Jaejoong remembers Yunho.
He pictures Yunho in his head. Yunho before the accident. Yunho before everything. Yunho with the smile, the laugh, the golden heart. Yunho, whom he hurt, who was hurt more than he deserved.
Jaejoong-ah, he can almost hear Yunho saying, yah, you’ll come back won’t you?
He closes his eyes. His chest feels hollow, and all the tears Jaejoong knows he can’t shed he releases in his heart. The surface is too far up and he’s far too heavy and far too tired. To swim. To fight. He doesn’t know if Yoochun is all right, doesn’t know if Yunho will live, and it tears at him.
I’m sorry.
(For everything. For living. For meeting. For loving.)
He pictures Yunho, his soft eyes, his creamy skin. Memorizes him. Loves him.
(Give up, a voice says, but this time, it’s coming from him)
I love you.
***
The last thing he feels is a hand clasping his and dragging him out of the depths, out of the darkness and into the light, and on the opposite part of Seoul, despite doctors’ opinion and despite medical evidence that he had, in fact, been surely dying hours ago, Yunho slowly opens his eyes, the ghost of a kiss resting softly against his lips, the phantom touch of a hand still warm in his palm.
I love you.
A/N: THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE. I REPEAT, THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE. *runs and hides from screaming, brick-throwing, pitchfork-wielding fangirls*