[Fic] All That I Am - 10/12
Title: All That I Am
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R
Pairing: Zhou Mi/Kyuhyun
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: To find a date that Kyuhyun can stomach is impossible - unless they hire one to pretend. But not even the perfect companion can stop years worth of threats, or keep their acting from becoming all too real.
***
Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight * Chapter Nine * Chapter Ten * Chapter Eleven
***
His head ached fiercely, almost blinding him as he tried to open his eyes, and he gave up. One felt swollen and warm, and the other heavy. He wanted to reach to touch them, rub them, and couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t. Something sharp bit into his wrists as he tried to move, and he hissed, unable to uncurl his hands from where they nestled together behind him. His upper arms ached, pressed hard to whatever his arms were tied around. A chair? Why was he…
He got flashes of before, rolling over his brain like rushing waves. The maid on the floor. Dead? Wanting to call for help. And then nothing. Had there been a burglar? He’d interrupted a robbery. He was in his own house, and held…? Zhou Mi. No, Zhou Mi’s car had been gone when he’d got home, and the garage door hadn’t opened. Zhou Mi was safe. As long as he wasn’t at home. He managed to get the eyelid open that wasn’t swollen, peering about a dingy, white-painted room. Definitely not his house. Kidnapped for ransom then, or… Or what? If someone had meant to kill him, he’d be dead. He chewed at what he realized was a thin rag tied around his head. It made his mouth feel bone dry and dirty. He ran through his vital details, name, age, residence. His brain hadn’t been scrambled at least.
Zhou Mi would be frantic. The police would be called. People would look for him, leaving no stone unturned. For that he knew he could trust Eeteuk entirely. His family. What would they think? His dad’s health was already fragile. He made one more desperate yank at his wrists, feeling whatever he was tied with bite into him. Tried one ankle, the other, where they were tied to a chair leg each. It didn’t budge at all. Not at all.
If it was ransom, someone would figure something out. If it was something else, he didn’t know what there would be to do. All he knew was that he wanted to see the other side of it, alive.
***
The police were so thorough, Zhou Mi thought. Checking every room of the house, questioning him and the maid. At least he wasn’t a suspect, since he had receipts and witnesses for when he was at the restaurant. It had killed him, almost, not to open the letter on the table. But if it was evidence, a few minutes waiting to make sure he wasn’t obliterating fingerprints that could take them to Kyuhyun’s kidnapper was worth it. He was beginning to think it wasn’t a robbery at all. By the time Eeteuk arrived, Zhou Mi had given up pushing down the panic, and was pacing. Since he’d blurted out everything to Eeteuk on the phone, there wasn’t actually anything to tell him except that they still had no idea where Kyuhyun was. Though Zhou Mi was on him like a rocket when Eeteuk walked in with a folder under his arm.
“What’s that?” Zhou Mi demanded.
“The other letters that Kyuhyun got,” Eeteuk said, handing him the folder.
“He never showed me,” Zhou Mi muttered under his breath as he flipped through. There were at least thirty photocopies. Starting out with kind of pithy threats, like “Step down as CEO or else” all the way up to one of the last. Their stay in the hotel. Threatening it would be the last hotel Kyuhyun ever stayed at if he didn’t resign before conference. Well, the conference had started, and Kyuhyun was gone.
“We turned every one of these over to the police,” Eeteuk said as Zhou Mi handed the letters to the detective. “We thought they were idle threats, if not a little annoying. Some of them had sort of personal, and insider information into the company. So we thought it was someone high up, probably someone on the board, someone who resented that Kyuhyun had taken over for his father instead of people who’d been with the company twenty, thirty years. There are a few of those, but it wasn’t like they took out advertisements. No one with long tenure quit or was fired. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Maybe they were nothing at first, but the later ones seem to threaten violence,” the detective said, echoing Zhou Mi’s thoughts exactly. “But even with his tires being slashed, I don’t know that there’s anything you could’ve seen coming. Even the one we found here today was just a threat. Not some kind of imminent warning.”
The slashed tires, the pictures. Both of which all three of them knew about. Zhou Mi clenched his fists, wanting to punch something just to feel the sting.
“I wish I could go to the board, beg them to tell us something, anything.”
“That could be arranged, actually,” Eeteuk said, perking at the thought. “All the board is still at the office, because I had them stay when I heard about Kyuhyun so they could figure out something for tomorrow just in case.”
“Do you think that’s a smart move?” Zhou Mi asked the detective. “Is that dangerous, or is there more to gain?”
“Seeing as how we have nothing to go on now but a bunch of letters, I think it’s worth a shot,” the detective said. “Maybe we’ll catch a reaction or something. Do any of the rooms have microphones or cameras?”
Eeteuk smiled broadly. “Yes, they do.”
***
Eeteuk handled setting up where they would call the board. Several officers had come with them, both as information gatherers and probably to keep an eye on them, the two men closest to Kyuhyun. One of them, in plain clothes, would sit in on the little gathering, pretending to be some kind of intern assisting Eeteuk. One would watch from the A/V closet, as a small team combed through Kyuhyun’s office looking for clues. And Zhou Mi just tried not to pace as he waited in Eeteuk’s office until he was called on. He had to keep from lifting his hands, chewing on his nails, the edges of his fingers. Anything to keep himself calm.
Zhou Mi needed little introduction to the board members. They had passed each other, talked lightly at some of the functions he had accompanied Kyuhyun to. He had seen all of them at the luncheon that very day. Now he looked at their faces as Eeteuk explained what was going on, that they were looking for Kyuhyun, and wondered who was capable of doing something like that.
“We know some people weren’t happy when Kyuhyun took over,” Zhou Mi kind of reiterated. “But this isn’t…He is a son, and a brother. He is a good man, and dedicated to you and this company. If anyone knows anything about this, heard rumors, anything. Please. Go to the police. They have anonymous tip lines. Please, just… Use your heart. He’s so important to me. I love…”
All hold he had on himself broke and he pivoted toward the door, feeling heat sting in his eyes. It was not the words, no matter how true they were, but the audience, and realization again how true it was. But it shouldn’t have been Eeteuk and the police and the board that heard it from him first. It should have been Kyuhyun. Eeteuk reached for him and he held up a hand, begging not to be touched as he tried to gather himself. Swallowing against the tight band around his throat, and breathing. He turned back around, swiping at his face, where at least one tear had escaped.
“I love him, and I need him back. I need to know he’s okay. If anyone knows anything, please. Please let the police know. Thank you.”
He went out the door first, hearing Eeteuk speaking sharp words that he did not understand.
At least, when Eeteuk found him down the hall and touched his back, he had gotten himself together. The police would have the videos, the audio. Maybe there was some reaction they’d catch. The conference planner was hard at work, and there wasn’t anything else to do. But hope, really, and wait.
He let Eeteuk drive him home, not feeling steady enough. His mind was racing. What to do, where to go. The problem was, he didn’t have any of those answers. There were no leads. No places left to check, no stones to turn over. Just an empty house. Or mostly empty. The maid, who’d been patched up was still there. And Eeteuk, on his phone, had insisted on staying. Night had fallen, and all he could think about was his dream. Finding Kyuhyun in the dark, desperate, unable to see or feel him. Needing to help him, keep him safe. He just wanted another chance to do so.
***
Midnight passed, and Zhou Mi was more restless than tired. He tried to imagine going into the room to sleep, all the while seeing Kyuhyun’s skin against the bedspread, hearing him groan as his alarm went off. There was so much of Kyuhyun everywhere, but especially there. He tried to nap, stretching out on the longest couch and covering his eyes with a pillow, and all he accomplished was nearly smothering himself. The police had gone. The staff, Eeteuk and him were all that were left. He ignored the crying jag he’d allowed himself in the bathroom after he got home. Purging emotion, that was all. He needed a clear head, would need to sleep, but it was too hard so far. Too hard for him, and when he thought of how Kyuhyun might be feeling, what he might be going through, it threatened to shut him down altogether. It was why, he acknowledged to himself bitterly, that he had never been meant for his father’s goals. He could shut himself down, but not nearly enough. It was probably due only to the training that he received that he did not become a crumpled mess on the floor. Or maybe he just wasn’t giving himself enough credit.
It was almost three in the morning when the doorbell went off, his head springing up from where it had fallen as he dozed. Eeteuk shot up from where he had curled on the other couch, and they stared at each other. The police? Good news? Bad news? If it had been good, wouldn’t they have called? He marshaled all his courage, breathing some kind of wordless prayer as he opened the door.
And he stared in some confusion when he did not find a policeman there, but a man who was familiar to him.
“Mr. Lee?” Eeteuk asked, sounding as baffled as he did.
One of the board members.
He served the man tea, antsy when they got no response for why the man was there in the middle of the night. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to jump up and shake the man. Just shake the information right out of him.
“I’ve b-been thinking of taking a sabbatical,” the man began, not touching the tea. “There’s a lot of things going on at work. Too much stress.”
Eeteuk kind of sighed. “I know what you mean. You can bring this up after…”
“No, you don’t understand,” the man said, leaning forward. “I need to go on vacation. And I know a place where a couple of board members wanted to go with our CEO.”
Zhou Mi’s fingers tightened to the point of pain on his own knees. Please let it be what he thought it was. Please.
“Did they…go with him there themselves?” Eeteuk asked, cautiously.
“No. They found a couple people to drive him. Keep him company. It’d be lonely, you know. Until after the conference.”
“And they thought Kyuhyun would have… fun until then?” Zhou Mi asked.
“They took care to make sure of that. But someone started thinking maybe going on a dangerous outing, so it started sounding less fun, right? This vacation.”
“Two men, and Kyuhyun, on vacation until after the conference. What then?”
“Then, they get the other half of their money and orders on what to do with him. Where to take him.”
“Can you get ahold of them?”
“No. Only- Only one person knows how.”
“So things could change at any time,” Zhou Mi said, standing up. “Like us going to talk to the board. Are you saying that this ‘dangerous outing’ could be moved up? What is the address? Do you know it?”
The man blurted it out, and Zhou Mi raced for his gun. He’d leave Eeteuk to call the police, deal with the man. If they got there first, great. If not, he’d dealt with more than two men before in his training. If their talk with the board had spurred panic, there could be an order to kill Kyuhyun, or move him to where he would never be found. There wasn’t any time to waste.
***
When Kyuhyun came to consciousness the second time his head was clearer, and he wondered if he had been drugged. Keeping his eyes closed, he tested the strength of the bonds on his wrists. Pulling until he nearly felt his skin give, panting. Nothing, no sign that he could break them, not without breaking himself, stripping his skin to the bone.
His eye throbbed, and there was a spot on his forehead that was stinging. He’d been hit, maybe. Taken down. If he could only remember it. But the last thing he remembered was the maid, and the silence of the house.
He fought the panic, trying to draw in air, slow, deliberate. He thought of anything, anything that would calm him. It was Zhou Mi he pictured beside him, arms around him. Warm mouth pressing kisses to his neck, whispering to him. Kui Xian, I’m here.
He didn’t realize that his head had lolled to the side, reaching for some shadow person that wasn’t there.
He did not think of his family, and he did not think of his friends. He thought of Zhou Mi. Bright smile as he rested his hands on Kyuhyun’s shoulders, leaning over him just for the excuse to touch.
It calmed the panic, sort of, though he could feel it trembling in him down his back and arms. But it didn’t calm the burning in his stomach as the worry mounted. For himself, and for Zhou Mi. He had no guarantee that Zhou Mi was safe. If it had anything to do with the letters, it had been Zhou Mi’s image that had been torn in half. If Zhou Mi was hurt, it would be his fault. Zhou Mi, who laughed and lay beside him in bed. Zhou Mi who held him, kissed him. Who was, for him, everything he never wanted to need. It had been a stupid plan, trying to date someone that long and not care. And if he cared, him, Kyuhyun, who tried to pretend he was some kind of statue? Then Zhou Mi, who was so much more than he had ever imagined, had to feel something. He didn’t think he was unloveable. Sex, and the touching, talking, kissing.
Their contract was rapidly coming to a close. It made him want to throw up, and he swallowed hard. For all he knew, Zhou Mi had another job lined up already. They had never talked about that part of Zhou Mi’s life. He barely knew about Zhou Mi’s parents. He had never asked. Should have. He’d poured out enough of his own life to Zhou Mi’s listening ears and sympathetic eyes. And it wasn’t that Zhou Mi couldn’t talk, because the man could, there was no doubt about it. He could extend the contract, get Eeteuk to draw up new terms. He’d make it so lucrative that Zhou Mi couldn’t possibly refuse.
And even as he thought it, he shoved it away. There wasn’t enough money in the universe to buy the things he needed from Zhou Mi. There was no contract that could be drawn that could make Zhou Mi want to stay only because he wanted to be with Kyuhyun.
There was only the possibility that Zhou Mi would stay. And the question of employment would become a conversation topic and not a relationship qualifier. His lover, his boyfriend. His. No matter what language Zhou Mi spoke, or what job he wanted to take, he would be in Kyuhyun’s bed. And he’d ask to hear all those things about Zhou Mi that he never realized he needed to know. They could meet each other’s parents. Plan a vacation. They could go anywhere. Europe, the tropics. Zhou Mi on a white-sand beach, rubbing sunblock into his shoulders, battling him in the water. Sleeping together on sheets that were sandy no matter how many showers they took. They could do anything. Anything. The need to have all of it clawed at him, swelling inside of him, to where he was keening without even knowing it.
“You’re awake,” he heard, and it snapped him out of his fantasy. Defense mechanism, he thought, inhaling sharply as part of his gag was pulled out. “They’re getting a place for you ready so you can get off that chair. Just go back to sleep for a while.”
He wanted to ask why, but he choked instead as water, water laced with something bitter, flooded his mouth. He spat most of it, nearly sending his stomach with it, but some of it, he swallowed. The man cursed, cuffing the side of his head and walking away, damp. But what he did swallow, to his frantic body, sank in quickly. His eyes would not stay open and he sagged. Thoughts sluggishly moving as he breathed. He dozed to the sound of his own labored breathing.
Dreaming.
Dreaming.
It was shouting that woke him, disoriented as he tried to focus his eyes. He bucked in the chair as men in dark outfits swarmed in front of him like ants, vertigo hitting him severely. Who was there? Who was attacking? What now? He cringed from movement in front of him, until fingers began to pull at the cloth in his mouth. Leaving him free to gulp in air, clearing his head.
Zhou Mi’s face swam into focus, face tense, worry written in every angle and fine line.
“Zh- Mi,” he croaked, getting an emphatic nod.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” the man in front of him asked.
Was he dreaming? He saw the holster on Zhou Mi’s shoulder and it confused him. The dark handle of the pistol stark against the light shirt.
“No?” he said, unsure of what question he was answering any more.
And Zhou Mi, with a knife in his hand, cut through whatever was tying Kyuhyun’s legs. He straightened his knees as Zhou Mi moved, and he finally looked up to see what was happening. A man, being led out of the room in handcuffs. Police.
Police, guns, Zhou Mi. He blinked rapidly. Not a dream. It meant he was being rescued. He was rescued. Safe. He actually laughed silently, like a coughing seal for a few seconds, until Zhou Mi freed his wrists.
And then all he could do was not shout in agony as his shoulders, and all the muscles in his arms, tried to move back to the way they thought they should be. Burning, aching, tingling. Even as Zhou Mi slowly, deliberately helped him to lower his arms, he wanted to howl. Panting, eyes rolling as every movement seared through him. And then Zhou Mi was in front of him again, murmuring his name against his cheek. You’re safe, I’m here, Kui Xian. You’re safe. Are you okay? I’m so sorry it hurts. Is it any better? I was so worried. Kui Xian?
He opened his eyes, flexing his stiff, aching fingers. The pain was receding. He could actually think again. Moving his shoulders like rusty joints, trying to bend his elbows. Everything worked, but he felt like a clumsy, hurting oaf. Getting his hands into his lap. His mouth moved, but he had no words. He wanted to touch Zhou Mi’s face, but got his hand only as far as Zhou Mi’s arm, so painful, like it wasn’t his hand. But he got a smile for it. Zhou Mi kissing his face, and telling him useless things. He heard Zhou Mi’s laugh, clutching at him like the weakest, needy child. He wanted to close his eyes and breathe, let relief take him over. But he couldn’t, focused instead on Zhou Mi’s voice, and the gun in Zhou Mi’s holster.
***
Time seemed fluid to him after that, as Zhou Mi blocking him from the world faded to Zhou Mi standing beside him. Medics, he supposed, checking him out, asking him questions. Someone got water into his mouth, and he could’ve drank a reservoir dry but was allowed a few measly swallows. He did not wonder where Zhou Mi was, because he could feel Zhou Mi’s fingers on his neck. Would they go if he told them to? He was so tired, so tired. He just wanted to lay on the floor and let Zhou Mi hold him and not have to think.
To not think about the white room, or the man he glimpsed being led out in handcuffs, or all the things he didn’t remember. The fears he hadn’t allowed himself, the fears he had. He stood, feeling shaky as a newborn colt and was supported by the medics and Zhou Mi, helped onto the stretcher. It was the drugs, he reasoned. Whatever he’d been knocked out with. His wrists looked raw, fingers wrong. His head ached, too. They chattered about taking him to the hospital to just get things checked out just in case. He murmured agreements, feeling himself be secured, not really caring at that moment where he was, and in motion he felt slightly ill.
He’d been tracking Zhou Mi with his eyes, to make sure he was still there.
“I’m here, Kui Xian, don’t worry,” Zhou Mi said from his side. “We’re just going downstairs.”
Downstairs, and outside. The cool air soothing him as they wheeled him toward the flashing lights. There was a touch on his hand, and he heard Zhou Mi speaking quietly to someone.
“Zhou Mi,” he grunted, feeling the ground under the wheels give way.
“I’m here.”
Squishing himself into the little ambulance and taking his hand. And touching his face. He leaned into the softly petting fingers as the medic got him situated for transport. They were moving by the time he thought to look again, realizing that Zhou Mi’s gun was gone. He was rumpled and haggard. He looked about like what Kyuhyun felt.
“You look terrible,” he whispered.
“You look wonderful,” Zhou Mi told him.
Kyuhyun turned his eyes to the medic, who was doing a good job pretending he wasn’t listening. “He lies, doesn’t he?”
“You’re doing good, sir. It won’t take long to get to the hospital.”
Hospitals. Great. He sighed, closing his eyes. Felt his consciousness wobble.
“Is he okay? His hand just went limp,” he heard Zhou Mi say from what seemed like a great distance.
“He’s fine. Probably just exhausted.”
Just exhausted. That was all.
***
His mind filled in the images for him. Zhou Mi was inside, a light glowing from under a doorway. He had his gun drawn, arms steady, the pistol almost an extension of himself. He wanted to just stop there and stare at him, the lines of his body. Like some wild creature with teeth and claws.
He watched as Zhou Mi holstered his gun. Bursting into the room in front of him, using his momentum into the room, his hand and the man’s surprise to get him onto his feet, and driving him head-first into the wall. Another tap and the man went limp.
He cheered mentally. One kidnapper down.
Zhou Mi crept up the stairs. Solid, well made. No creaks.
He could almost feel Zhou Mi’s relief, the sag to his shoulders, when he caught sight of Kyuhyun. The door cracked open just enough to glimpse bound legs, and then a torso. Alive. That would be the thing Zhou Mi needed to know the most. That Kyuhyun was alive.
And with his gun drawn, he had the upper hand, sliding the door open quietly.
“Turn around slowly,” Zhou Mi told the kidnapper. The authority in that statement ringing through him. “I have a gun, so listen to what I say.”
The plastic plate fell with a clatter as the man did just that, looking at Zhou Mi up and down.
“You’re not the police. How’d you find us?”
“Your bosses are idiots.”
The man hit the ground with a thud, Zhou Mi tying him with what seemed like incredible ease.
And Zhou Mi saw he struggled, calming him, touching his chest. "Kui Xian, it's okay, calm down," he breathed.
He could not see his own face clearly, imaging pain and relief, but Zhou Mi did not look for long, working at the cloth obstructing Kyuhyun's mouth. The knife flicked open almost silently in Zhou Mi’s hands, and he shuddered inside. A gun clutched in his holster, and a switchblade in Zhou Mi’s hand.
He wanted to scream, going taut as a shadow darkened the door.
Zhou Mi’s whole body convulsed, throbbing with the jolt of the the electrical current. Stun gun, his mind supplied, as he garbled out Zhou Mi’s name. Watching the pain on Zhou Mi’s face, the pain was too much. Too much. As the current let him go, he fell forward into Kyuhyun.
Kyuhyun smelled only fear as Zhou Mi breathed against him, twisting, moaning. Zhou Mi pressed his face harder to Kyuhyun’s chest.
If he wasn’t okay, if he wasn’t… He fought his bonds, jerked, and gripped the hand on his, and-
***
And he woke, as the doors of the ambulance opened to let him out. He blinked blearily at Zhou Mi. No, Zhou Mi hadn’t singlehandedly saved him, not in reality. There had been police with him. But Zhou Mi hadn’t let go of his hand the whole trip. That seemed enough.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R
Pairing: Zhou Mi/Kyuhyun
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: To find a date that Kyuhyun can stomach is impossible - unless they hire one to pretend. But not even the perfect companion can stop years worth of threats, or keep their acting from becoming all too real.
***
Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five * Chapter Six * Chapter Seven * Chapter Eight * Chapter Nine * Chapter Ten * Chapter Eleven
***
His head ached fiercely, almost blinding him as he tried to open his eyes, and he gave up. One felt swollen and warm, and the other heavy. He wanted to reach to touch them, rub them, and couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t. Something sharp bit into his wrists as he tried to move, and he hissed, unable to uncurl his hands from where they nestled together behind him. His upper arms ached, pressed hard to whatever his arms were tied around. A chair? Why was he…
He got flashes of before, rolling over his brain like rushing waves. The maid on the floor. Dead? Wanting to call for help. And then nothing. Had there been a burglar? He’d interrupted a robbery. He was in his own house, and held…? Zhou Mi. No, Zhou Mi’s car had been gone when he’d got home, and the garage door hadn’t opened. Zhou Mi was safe. As long as he wasn’t at home. He managed to get the eyelid open that wasn’t swollen, peering about a dingy, white-painted room. Definitely not his house. Kidnapped for ransom then, or… Or what? If someone had meant to kill him, he’d be dead. He chewed at what he realized was a thin rag tied around his head. It made his mouth feel bone dry and dirty. He ran through his vital details, name, age, residence. His brain hadn’t been scrambled at least.
Zhou Mi would be frantic. The police would be called. People would look for him, leaving no stone unturned. For that he knew he could trust Eeteuk entirely. His family. What would they think? His dad’s health was already fragile. He made one more desperate yank at his wrists, feeling whatever he was tied with bite into him. Tried one ankle, the other, where they were tied to a chair leg each. It didn’t budge at all. Not at all.
If it was ransom, someone would figure something out. If it was something else, he didn’t know what there would be to do. All he knew was that he wanted to see the other side of it, alive.
***
The police were so thorough, Zhou Mi thought. Checking every room of the house, questioning him and the maid. At least he wasn’t a suspect, since he had receipts and witnesses for when he was at the restaurant. It had killed him, almost, not to open the letter on the table. But if it was evidence, a few minutes waiting to make sure he wasn’t obliterating fingerprints that could take them to Kyuhyun’s kidnapper was worth it. He was beginning to think it wasn’t a robbery at all. By the time Eeteuk arrived, Zhou Mi had given up pushing down the panic, and was pacing. Since he’d blurted out everything to Eeteuk on the phone, there wasn’t actually anything to tell him except that they still had no idea where Kyuhyun was. Though Zhou Mi was on him like a rocket when Eeteuk walked in with a folder under his arm.
“What’s that?” Zhou Mi demanded.
“The other letters that Kyuhyun got,” Eeteuk said, handing him the folder.
“He never showed me,” Zhou Mi muttered under his breath as he flipped through. There were at least thirty photocopies. Starting out with kind of pithy threats, like “Step down as CEO or else” all the way up to one of the last. Their stay in the hotel. Threatening it would be the last hotel Kyuhyun ever stayed at if he didn’t resign before conference. Well, the conference had started, and Kyuhyun was gone.
“We turned every one of these over to the police,” Eeteuk said as Zhou Mi handed the letters to the detective. “We thought they were idle threats, if not a little annoying. Some of them had sort of personal, and insider information into the company. So we thought it was someone high up, probably someone on the board, someone who resented that Kyuhyun had taken over for his father instead of people who’d been with the company twenty, thirty years. There are a few of those, but it wasn’t like they took out advertisements. No one with long tenure quit or was fired. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Maybe they were nothing at first, but the later ones seem to threaten violence,” the detective said, echoing Zhou Mi’s thoughts exactly. “But even with his tires being slashed, I don’t know that there’s anything you could’ve seen coming. Even the one we found here today was just a threat. Not some kind of imminent warning.”
The slashed tires, the pictures. Both of which all three of them knew about. Zhou Mi clenched his fists, wanting to punch something just to feel the sting.
“I wish I could go to the board, beg them to tell us something, anything.”
“That could be arranged, actually,” Eeteuk said, perking at the thought. “All the board is still at the office, because I had them stay when I heard about Kyuhyun so they could figure out something for tomorrow just in case.”
“Do you think that’s a smart move?” Zhou Mi asked the detective. “Is that dangerous, or is there more to gain?”
“Seeing as how we have nothing to go on now but a bunch of letters, I think it’s worth a shot,” the detective said. “Maybe we’ll catch a reaction or something. Do any of the rooms have microphones or cameras?”
Eeteuk smiled broadly. “Yes, they do.”
***
Eeteuk handled setting up where they would call the board. Several officers had come with them, both as information gatherers and probably to keep an eye on them, the two men closest to Kyuhyun. One of them, in plain clothes, would sit in on the little gathering, pretending to be some kind of intern assisting Eeteuk. One would watch from the A/V closet, as a small team combed through Kyuhyun’s office looking for clues. And Zhou Mi just tried not to pace as he waited in Eeteuk’s office until he was called on. He had to keep from lifting his hands, chewing on his nails, the edges of his fingers. Anything to keep himself calm.
Zhou Mi needed little introduction to the board members. They had passed each other, talked lightly at some of the functions he had accompanied Kyuhyun to. He had seen all of them at the luncheon that very day. Now he looked at their faces as Eeteuk explained what was going on, that they were looking for Kyuhyun, and wondered who was capable of doing something like that.
“We know some people weren’t happy when Kyuhyun took over,” Zhou Mi kind of reiterated. “But this isn’t…He is a son, and a brother. He is a good man, and dedicated to you and this company. If anyone knows anything about this, heard rumors, anything. Please. Go to the police. They have anonymous tip lines. Please, just… Use your heart. He’s so important to me. I love…”
All hold he had on himself broke and he pivoted toward the door, feeling heat sting in his eyes. It was not the words, no matter how true they were, but the audience, and realization again how true it was. But it shouldn’t have been Eeteuk and the police and the board that heard it from him first. It should have been Kyuhyun. Eeteuk reached for him and he held up a hand, begging not to be touched as he tried to gather himself. Swallowing against the tight band around his throat, and breathing. He turned back around, swiping at his face, where at least one tear had escaped.
“I love him, and I need him back. I need to know he’s okay. If anyone knows anything, please. Please let the police know. Thank you.”
He went out the door first, hearing Eeteuk speaking sharp words that he did not understand.
At least, when Eeteuk found him down the hall and touched his back, he had gotten himself together. The police would have the videos, the audio. Maybe there was some reaction they’d catch. The conference planner was hard at work, and there wasn’t anything else to do. But hope, really, and wait.
He let Eeteuk drive him home, not feeling steady enough. His mind was racing. What to do, where to go. The problem was, he didn’t have any of those answers. There were no leads. No places left to check, no stones to turn over. Just an empty house. Or mostly empty. The maid, who’d been patched up was still there. And Eeteuk, on his phone, had insisted on staying. Night had fallen, and all he could think about was his dream. Finding Kyuhyun in the dark, desperate, unable to see or feel him. Needing to help him, keep him safe. He just wanted another chance to do so.
***
Midnight passed, and Zhou Mi was more restless than tired. He tried to imagine going into the room to sleep, all the while seeing Kyuhyun’s skin against the bedspread, hearing him groan as his alarm went off. There was so much of Kyuhyun everywhere, but especially there. He tried to nap, stretching out on the longest couch and covering his eyes with a pillow, and all he accomplished was nearly smothering himself. The police had gone. The staff, Eeteuk and him were all that were left. He ignored the crying jag he’d allowed himself in the bathroom after he got home. Purging emotion, that was all. He needed a clear head, would need to sleep, but it was too hard so far. Too hard for him, and when he thought of how Kyuhyun might be feeling, what he might be going through, it threatened to shut him down altogether. It was why, he acknowledged to himself bitterly, that he had never been meant for his father’s goals. He could shut himself down, but not nearly enough. It was probably due only to the training that he received that he did not become a crumpled mess on the floor. Or maybe he just wasn’t giving himself enough credit.
It was almost three in the morning when the doorbell went off, his head springing up from where it had fallen as he dozed. Eeteuk shot up from where he had curled on the other couch, and they stared at each other. The police? Good news? Bad news? If it had been good, wouldn’t they have called? He marshaled all his courage, breathing some kind of wordless prayer as he opened the door.
And he stared in some confusion when he did not find a policeman there, but a man who was familiar to him.
“Mr. Lee?” Eeteuk asked, sounding as baffled as he did.
One of the board members.
He served the man tea, antsy when they got no response for why the man was there in the middle of the night. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to jump up and shake the man. Just shake the information right out of him.
“I’ve b-been thinking of taking a sabbatical,” the man began, not touching the tea. “There’s a lot of things going on at work. Too much stress.”
Eeteuk kind of sighed. “I know what you mean. You can bring this up after…”
“No, you don’t understand,” the man said, leaning forward. “I need to go on vacation. And I know a place where a couple of board members wanted to go with our CEO.”
Zhou Mi’s fingers tightened to the point of pain on his own knees. Please let it be what he thought it was. Please.
“Did they…go with him there themselves?” Eeteuk asked, cautiously.
“No. They found a couple people to drive him. Keep him company. It’d be lonely, you know. Until after the conference.”
“And they thought Kyuhyun would have… fun until then?” Zhou Mi asked.
“They took care to make sure of that. But someone started thinking maybe going on a dangerous outing, so it started sounding less fun, right? This vacation.”
“Two men, and Kyuhyun, on vacation until after the conference. What then?”
“Then, they get the other half of their money and orders on what to do with him. Where to take him.”
“Can you get ahold of them?”
“No. Only- Only one person knows how.”
“So things could change at any time,” Zhou Mi said, standing up. “Like us going to talk to the board. Are you saying that this ‘dangerous outing’ could be moved up? What is the address? Do you know it?”
The man blurted it out, and Zhou Mi raced for his gun. He’d leave Eeteuk to call the police, deal with the man. If they got there first, great. If not, he’d dealt with more than two men before in his training. If their talk with the board had spurred panic, there could be an order to kill Kyuhyun, or move him to where he would never be found. There wasn’t any time to waste.
***
When Kyuhyun came to consciousness the second time his head was clearer, and he wondered if he had been drugged. Keeping his eyes closed, he tested the strength of the bonds on his wrists. Pulling until he nearly felt his skin give, panting. Nothing, no sign that he could break them, not without breaking himself, stripping his skin to the bone.
His eye throbbed, and there was a spot on his forehead that was stinging. He’d been hit, maybe. Taken down. If he could only remember it. But the last thing he remembered was the maid, and the silence of the house.
He fought the panic, trying to draw in air, slow, deliberate. He thought of anything, anything that would calm him. It was Zhou Mi he pictured beside him, arms around him. Warm mouth pressing kisses to his neck, whispering to him. Kui Xian, I’m here.
He didn’t realize that his head had lolled to the side, reaching for some shadow person that wasn’t there.
He did not think of his family, and he did not think of his friends. He thought of Zhou Mi. Bright smile as he rested his hands on Kyuhyun’s shoulders, leaning over him just for the excuse to touch.
It calmed the panic, sort of, though he could feel it trembling in him down his back and arms. But it didn’t calm the burning in his stomach as the worry mounted. For himself, and for Zhou Mi. He had no guarantee that Zhou Mi was safe. If it had anything to do with the letters, it had been Zhou Mi’s image that had been torn in half. If Zhou Mi was hurt, it would be his fault. Zhou Mi, who laughed and lay beside him in bed. Zhou Mi who held him, kissed him. Who was, for him, everything he never wanted to need. It had been a stupid plan, trying to date someone that long and not care. And if he cared, him, Kyuhyun, who tried to pretend he was some kind of statue? Then Zhou Mi, who was so much more than he had ever imagined, had to feel something. He didn’t think he was unloveable. Sex, and the touching, talking, kissing.
Their contract was rapidly coming to a close. It made him want to throw up, and he swallowed hard. For all he knew, Zhou Mi had another job lined up already. They had never talked about that part of Zhou Mi’s life. He barely knew about Zhou Mi’s parents. He had never asked. Should have. He’d poured out enough of his own life to Zhou Mi’s listening ears and sympathetic eyes. And it wasn’t that Zhou Mi couldn’t talk, because the man could, there was no doubt about it. He could extend the contract, get Eeteuk to draw up new terms. He’d make it so lucrative that Zhou Mi couldn’t possibly refuse.
And even as he thought it, he shoved it away. There wasn’t enough money in the universe to buy the things he needed from Zhou Mi. There was no contract that could be drawn that could make Zhou Mi want to stay only because he wanted to be with Kyuhyun.
There was only the possibility that Zhou Mi would stay. And the question of employment would become a conversation topic and not a relationship qualifier. His lover, his boyfriend. His. No matter what language Zhou Mi spoke, or what job he wanted to take, he would be in Kyuhyun’s bed. And he’d ask to hear all those things about Zhou Mi that he never realized he needed to know. They could meet each other’s parents. Plan a vacation. They could go anywhere. Europe, the tropics. Zhou Mi on a white-sand beach, rubbing sunblock into his shoulders, battling him in the water. Sleeping together on sheets that were sandy no matter how many showers they took. They could do anything. Anything. The need to have all of it clawed at him, swelling inside of him, to where he was keening without even knowing it.
“You’re awake,” he heard, and it snapped him out of his fantasy. Defense mechanism, he thought, inhaling sharply as part of his gag was pulled out. “They’re getting a place for you ready so you can get off that chair. Just go back to sleep for a while.”
He wanted to ask why, but he choked instead as water, water laced with something bitter, flooded his mouth. He spat most of it, nearly sending his stomach with it, but some of it, he swallowed. The man cursed, cuffing the side of his head and walking away, damp. But what he did swallow, to his frantic body, sank in quickly. His eyes would not stay open and he sagged. Thoughts sluggishly moving as he breathed. He dozed to the sound of his own labored breathing.
Dreaming.
Dreaming.
It was shouting that woke him, disoriented as he tried to focus his eyes. He bucked in the chair as men in dark outfits swarmed in front of him like ants, vertigo hitting him severely. Who was there? Who was attacking? What now? He cringed from movement in front of him, until fingers began to pull at the cloth in his mouth. Leaving him free to gulp in air, clearing his head.
Zhou Mi’s face swam into focus, face tense, worry written in every angle and fine line.
“Zh- Mi,” he croaked, getting an emphatic nod.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” the man in front of him asked.
Was he dreaming? He saw the holster on Zhou Mi’s shoulder and it confused him. The dark handle of the pistol stark against the light shirt.
“No?” he said, unsure of what question he was answering any more.
And Zhou Mi, with a knife in his hand, cut through whatever was tying Kyuhyun’s legs. He straightened his knees as Zhou Mi moved, and he finally looked up to see what was happening. A man, being led out of the room in handcuffs. Police.
Police, guns, Zhou Mi. He blinked rapidly. Not a dream. It meant he was being rescued. He was rescued. Safe. He actually laughed silently, like a coughing seal for a few seconds, until Zhou Mi freed his wrists.
And then all he could do was not shout in agony as his shoulders, and all the muscles in his arms, tried to move back to the way they thought they should be. Burning, aching, tingling. Even as Zhou Mi slowly, deliberately helped him to lower his arms, he wanted to howl. Panting, eyes rolling as every movement seared through him. And then Zhou Mi was in front of him again, murmuring his name against his cheek. You’re safe, I’m here, Kui Xian. You’re safe. Are you okay? I’m so sorry it hurts. Is it any better? I was so worried. Kui Xian?
He opened his eyes, flexing his stiff, aching fingers. The pain was receding. He could actually think again. Moving his shoulders like rusty joints, trying to bend his elbows. Everything worked, but he felt like a clumsy, hurting oaf. Getting his hands into his lap. His mouth moved, but he had no words. He wanted to touch Zhou Mi’s face, but got his hand only as far as Zhou Mi’s arm, so painful, like it wasn’t his hand. But he got a smile for it. Zhou Mi kissing his face, and telling him useless things. He heard Zhou Mi’s laugh, clutching at him like the weakest, needy child. He wanted to close his eyes and breathe, let relief take him over. But he couldn’t, focused instead on Zhou Mi’s voice, and the gun in Zhou Mi’s holster.
***
Time seemed fluid to him after that, as Zhou Mi blocking him from the world faded to Zhou Mi standing beside him. Medics, he supposed, checking him out, asking him questions. Someone got water into his mouth, and he could’ve drank a reservoir dry but was allowed a few measly swallows. He did not wonder where Zhou Mi was, because he could feel Zhou Mi’s fingers on his neck. Would they go if he told them to? He was so tired, so tired. He just wanted to lay on the floor and let Zhou Mi hold him and not have to think.
To not think about the white room, or the man he glimpsed being led out in handcuffs, or all the things he didn’t remember. The fears he hadn’t allowed himself, the fears he had. He stood, feeling shaky as a newborn colt and was supported by the medics and Zhou Mi, helped onto the stretcher. It was the drugs, he reasoned. Whatever he’d been knocked out with. His wrists looked raw, fingers wrong. His head ached, too. They chattered about taking him to the hospital to just get things checked out just in case. He murmured agreements, feeling himself be secured, not really caring at that moment where he was, and in motion he felt slightly ill.
He’d been tracking Zhou Mi with his eyes, to make sure he was still there.
“I’m here, Kui Xian, don’t worry,” Zhou Mi said from his side. “We’re just going downstairs.”
Downstairs, and outside. The cool air soothing him as they wheeled him toward the flashing lights. There was a touch on his hand, and he heard Zhou Mi speaking quietly to someone.
“Zhou Mi,” he grunted, feeling the ground under the wheels give way.
“I’m here.”
Squishing himself into the little ambulance and taking his hand. And touching his face. He leaned into the softly petting fingers as the medic got him situated for transport. They were moving by the time he thought to look again, realizing that Zhou Mi’s gun was gone. He was rumpled and haggard. He looked about like what Kyuhyun felt.
“You look terrible,” he whispered.
“You look wonderful,” Zhou Mi told him.
Kyuhyun turned his eyes to the medic, who was doing a good job pretending he wasn’t listening. “He lies, doesn’t he?”
“You’re doing good, sir. It won’t take long to get to the hospital.”
Hospitals. Great. He sighed, closing his eyes. Felt his consciousness wobble.
“Is he okay? His hand just went limp,” he heard Zhou Mi say from what seemed like a great distance.
“He’s fine. Probably just exhausted.”
Just exhausted. That was all.
***
His mind filled in the images for him. Zhou Mi was inside, a light glowing from under a doorway. He had his gun drawn, arms steady, the pistol almost an extension of himself. He wanted to just stop there and stare at him, the lines of his body. Like some wild creature with teeth and claws.
He watched as Zhou Mi holstered his gun. Bursting into the room in front of him, using his momentum into the room, his hand and the man’s surprise to get him onto his feet, and driving him head-first into the wall. Another tap and the man went limp.
He cheered mentally. One kidnapper down.
Zhou Mi crept up the stairs. Solid, well made. No creaks.
He could almost feel Zhou Mi’s relief, the sag to his shoulders, when he caught sight of Kyuhyun. The door cracked open just enough to glimpse bound legs, and then a torso. Alive. That would be the thing Zhou Mi needed to know the most. That Kyuhyun was alive.
And with his gun drawn, he had the upper hand, sliding the door open quietly.
“Turn around slowly,” Zhou Mi told the kidnapper. The authority in that statement ringing through him. “I have a gun, so listen to what I say.”
The plastic plate fell with a clatter as the man did just that, looking at Zhou Mi up and down.
“You’re not the police. How’d you find us?”
“Your bosses are idiots.”
The man hit the ground with a thud, Zhou Mi tying him with what seemed like incredible ease.
And Zhou Mi saw he struggled, calming him, touching his chest. "Kui Xian, it's okay, calm down," he breathed.
He could not see his own face clearly, imaging pain and relief, but Zhou Mi did not look for long, working at the cloth obstructing Kyuhyun's mouth. The knife flicked open almost silently in Zhou Mi’s hands, and he shuddered inside. A gun clutched in his holster, and a switchblade in Zhou Mi’s hand.
He wanted to scream, going taut as a shadow darkened the door.
Zhou Mi’s whole body convulsed, throbbing with the jolt of the the electrical current. Stun gun, his mind supplied, as he garbled out Zhou Mi’s name. Watching the pain on Zhou Mi’s face, the pain was too much. Too much. As the current let him go, he fell forward into Kyuhyun.
Kyuhyun smelled only fear as Zhou Mi breathed against him, twisting, moaning. Zhou Mi pressed his face harder to Kyuhyun’s chest.
If he wasn’t okay, if he wasn’t… He fought his bonds, jerked, and gripped the hand on his, and-
***
And he woke, as the doors of the ambulance opened to let him out. He blinked blearily at Zhou Mi. No, Zhou Mi hadn’t singlehandedly saved him, not in reality. There had been police with him. But Zhou Mi hadn’t let go of his hand the whole trip. That seemed enough.
***