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Chapter 14
The room is dark, but it pales by comparison to the brig on the Acheron. He can hear footsteps outside the door, a flicker of light in the corridor. They’ve bound his hands and blocked his vision, but he knows where he is. Years of Imperial Guard training make it impossible for his memory to give in, for his sense of orientation to give out, no matter how stressed he may be. Years of Imperial Guard training will do that to a man.
A metallic scratch, like a knife being dragged along the side of a fighter craft, and the door slides open.
Yunho bites down on the gag in his mouth once, hard, then relaxes. Whatever they have in store for him will hurt less and be a lot less impressive if he pretends to be catatonic. If he pretends to play nice.
Changmin swallows hard, flicking on the light. Watching Yunho's shoulders tense, his jaw clench, he hesitates before crossing the room and reaching to pull out the gag, tugging the blindfold from Yunho's eyes.
"It's just me," he murmurs, dropping his eyes. Wishing that was a comfort. Having a sick feeling that it isn't. Changmin moves to kneel behind the chair, undoing the bonds on his wrists.
Yunho's first instinct is to make a run for it. The room is too small, pressing down on him. He knows the symptom; he's been grounded too long. His second instinct is to take a swing at Changmin. He does neither.
"They sent you to do their dirty work, did they?"
His jaw clenches, untying the bonds and moving to stand, running a hand through short hair.
"I'm not here to...do anything. I just..." Changmin fell silent, leaning against the wall.
Yunho tries to ignore the way the expression on Changmin's face tugs at his heart. It's not important anymore. "How did you survive the crash?" he asks instead, focusing on the practical instead.
Changmin stares at the ground, still able to feel the silent, unyielding accusation.
"Because I'm a damn good pilot," he murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I lost my right engine, but I still had the left, managed to bring her into a controlled dive. The trees smashed the left wing, but it slowed my fall. I set the wreck on fire to get the rebels off my trail.” The response is short and clipped, unsure how to act, unsure if Yunho regrets his decision to come after him. Knowing he must.
Yunho draws his hands to his lap but doesn't bother rubbing his sore wrists. He has endured worse.
"But they caught up with you and you... what? Joined their ranks?" He tries to soften his tone in vain, he can't help feel betrayed. Angry, too, to an extent. "I'm assuming that's what happened. You didn't exactly hurry to contact the fleet, to tell us you survived."
And maybe he has no room to argue turning defector, but the words sting.
"I tried to contact the Acheron, any of you. The airspace was jammed, I didn't get an answer, not when I was calling for back up, not when I was sending out a distress call." He swallows hard, a hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "They confiscated my com-link, the craft was a smoldering wreck...no one came. What choice did I have? Would you rather I was dead in the name of Imperial pride?" It's a low blow, he knows, but he can't help the defensiveness that wells up in him.
Yunho scowls. "Of course not." Except a part of him can't help the rise of vanity, of insecurity. What's to commend in defection, in desertion? Changmin's failure is none other than his own.
"You did what you had to do to survive." It's said to pacify the dispute, but he knows there's a part of truth to it. "The question is, do you want to survive to live with these people... or do you want to get back to your own kind." The Guard would have him back, maybe even award him a medal. His heroic return might even draw the spotlight away from Yunho's treason.
He lowers his eyes, teeth sinking into his lip.
"I...You can't go back. Neither can Junsu." It isn't an answer, but at the same time, maybe it is. How can he do that to them, after the sacrifice they made for him?
"That wasn't my question." Yunho shakes his head. It might not be what he asked, but it's answer enough. Changmin is part of a force they used to fight. Whether by choice or coercion, he's the enemy--but then again, on some level, so is Yunho. Selflessness has no place in the Guard.
"What happens now?" he asks and beneath, other questions linger unspoken. How much do they know about us? How much are you prepared to do to help us escape? How much do you even want to?
They won't be released, that much he's sure of.
"I...I don't know."
Changmin feels like a failure. A traitor. Someone to be ashamed of. He can't think to the how and the why and the what now, mind balking at the thought of return. Of knowing all that time how deep his betrayal goes, that he's been training to fire on the Guard. That he's slept with the enemy.
He moves to kneel in front of Yunho, eyes dark and troubled, looking up at his former captain.
"Do you regret it?" he asks softly.
"Regret what? Coming after you?" Yunho lets the silence simmer between them, a world of distance, at least as big as the one between Eylsia and the Acheron. No hyperdrive can bridge this one, though.
What has he given up that he could want back? His position? His name? His life, if he's ever caught by the Guard.
"It was my mistake to begin with." He's struck by his own calm. It's only on the surface, but it's effortless. His expression is a lie, Changmin's isn't. He's given himself to these people. "A mistake that may not have been for nothing... She's here, isn't she?"
It was my mistake.
Changmin flinches, sitting back on his heels, gaze leaving his Captain's. "I don't know. They haven't trusted me with much in the way of intelligence."
"What would you do if they told you?" Yunho presses, wanting--needing to make sure of his allegiance. "Would you be strong enough to do what must be done?" Or have they brainwashed him so completely he doesn't know what's right anymore?
"I..." Changmin swallows thickly, the words turning to ash in his mouth.
Would he? Is he that man anymore? Does he hold those ideals? Would he let his Captain down, disappoint him?
"Yes," Changmin gets out, the word uncertain even as he speaks it. "I would do what needed to be done, sir."
The hesitation isn't lost on Yunho, but he knows he can depend on the answer. He nods his acquiescence, wishing Changmin would stand up. "Then lying low until they tell us where she is could be our best bet. How much do they trust you?"
Our best bet? he wants to ask. How? It won't buy you back your life, or Junsu, won't erase what I've done. It'll get us all killed and for what?
"Not much. They still keep a gun on me when we're moving."
Yunho nods, taking the information in without reply. If he can make this into a mission, if it's all just part of a greater plan, then his betrayal is understandable. Then, he can forgive Changmin's.
"Do you know what they're planning for me and Junsu?" Are they going to kill us?
"Indoctrination," he says, pushing his knuckles into his thighs. "They need more pilots, better pilots. People with knowledge of Guard tactics, positions. They'll try to bring you to their side first."
And if you refuse...
"And if I refuse?" Yunho asks, softly. "What happens then? Death?" What he thinks is different. Is that what's happening to you? You're becoming indoctrinated?
A silent nod.
"Don't refuse," he says quietly, looking up at Yunho, stomach clenching.
Yunho snorts derisively, a muscle in his thigh jumping to betray his rage. "Would I miss hearing about how the Guard's very existence is a travesty? How it shouldn't have taken the Emperor’s rightful place?"
Changmin clenches his jaw. "And what choice do you have?" he snaps. "Your pride or your corpse?"
"My corpse or my conscience," Yunho shoots back, temper rising within him. "I know what I believe in, even if you don't."
"And what good does it do you?" Changmin spits, pushing himself to his feet. "The Guard wants you dead for your mistake. These people will kill you if you cross them. Where does that allegiance take you except to an early grave?"
"Is that what you think now?" Yunho stares at him disbelievingly. "Join the Imperialists or else?" This is exactly why the Emperor was overthrown, why his line must be destroyed. This is exactly why Yunho fights. "After all that time on the Acheron... it just takes a few weeks for you to cave in? Are you really that weak?"
The words are like a blow, breath catching with the weight of it, anger tied with shame for the weight in his chest.
"Why are you here?" Changmin hisses, fingers clenched into fists, wanting to strike the other man. "I was shot down when my squadron fucking abandoned me, I was imprisoned and interrogated and I'm doing what I fucking need to survive. What's your excuse, Yunho?"
"I came back because..." His voice spews venom and this is hardly the time, but-- "...because I love you."
Changmin swallows hard, wanting to believe him, wanting to believe it so much, but--
"You loved me when I was dead," he replies, the words tasting like acid in his mouth. "When it didn't have to mean anything."
"Better dead than a traitor," Yunho retorts, the words a lie but no caring anymore. "Is that what they said to you? That they love you and it means something?" Naive, he thinks. A child. He thinks of the boy on Jiexi's ship. Of the boy he used to be. "Don't fool yourself."
"What difference does it make?" Changmin retorts, Yunho's words making him dizzy with fury and aching hurt. "I may not be loved, but I know they're capable of it." A derisive snort. "Better a side with men than fucking heartless robots."
"I'll be sure to tell Junsu how glad you are we came back for you," Yunho smirks. A low blow, but he won't admit Changmin struck a chord. Why should he care if he feels for these people? If he loves them?
"I'll tell him myself," Changmin hisses, breaking to pieces inside.
Backing out of the room, he flicks the lights off in sheer childish retribution, choked with anger as he locks the door behind him, moving towards where they’re keeping his best friend.
Damn Yunho. Damn him to hell.
Changmin's hand doesn't touch the door to the adjacent cell before it swings open and he's met with familiar faces. Jaejoong's smirk could be interpreted in too many ways to make sense of it and Yoochun follows close behind. They pass him without hurry but without explanation either.
Inside, Junsu wavers on one leg, like the clowns in ancient circuses. When Changmin enters, he's struggling to button trousers that aren't his own. He won't meet his friend's eyes.
All Changmin feels is relief, a rush of it spreading over him like a wave. He's all too familiar with Jaejoong's methods of persuasion, and while it stings to know he's not unique, that he wasn't wanted there either...it's enough to know he won't receive any accusations here.
Without giving Junsu a chance to protest, or even to speak, he's across the cell in three steps, wrapping him in a tight, bone-crushing hug.
"Hey... ow." Junsu is nearly knocked over, the breath leaving him in a rush. Thank the Gods for Changmin's embrace, at least it holds him up. "Yeah, I'm glad to see you too," he laughs, swollen lips pressing into the other man's shoulder. "Good to see you alive and in one piece, actually."
"Just when you think you've gotten rid of me for good," he jokes weakly, giving the man another squeeze before pulling back, taking in his dishevelled state. "They didn't hurt you, did they? At least in ways you didn't enjoy?"
Junsu's blush is poor denial. "Are you going to tease the poor cripple about it? Come on!" Hopefully it's only teasing, hopefully he hasn't overstepped any lines. "Besides, I figured you and the Captain could use some one on one time."
A bitter smile. "What the hell for," Changmin mutters, dropping his gaze.
Junsu frowns. This isn't the time to be going back to the old song and dance. "I'm the one who should be asking you if you're hurt?" He sighs, one hand on the wall to help him sit down on the cold floor. "Listen, between you and me? He's a moron. But you should've seen him after you went down... he was a wreck."
Changmin reaches to take his arm, helping the other man to the floor, kneeling beside him to take in his leg. The wound isn't too deep, but it's nasty. He'll have to go for med supplies.
"I think he would've been happier if I stayed dead," he says quietly.
A flare of pain across his face but Junsu shakes his head adamantly. "Doubt that. He gave everything up." Grunting as Changmin appraises his leg, he changes the subject. "So... Jaejoong and Yoochun."
"Must like you a lot," Changmin replies blithely, unable to stop the small flare of bitterness that rises in his chest.
"Is that what they said to you? That they love you and it means something?"
Seduction is just another tactic he fell for, hook, line, and sinker.
"Are you really that weak?"
"They didn't..." Junsu stops himself. "Okay. They did. We did. Sort of... Gods. It's not like... you know them better than I do. It doesn't mean anything right?" Except maybe, on some level, talking about this with Changmin has the virtue of making him more than a little shameful and disgusting.
Changmin swallows hard, shaking his head. "Nope. Doesn't mean anything."
Just another way for them to use you.
Hurt rushes through Junsu, fades in a moment. "Right. Just another form of torture." He doesn't think of Yunho. Not at all.
Changmin's head snaps up at that, concern overwhelming inexplicable jealousy.
"Junsu. Did they hurt you?"
"No," he sighs, shaking his head once. How else to explain it though? "I'm sure they could've. I just... I took the path of minimum resistance."
Jaejoong's lips on his ear, Yoochun's hands slipping beneath his shirt, and that soothing voice--whose was it?-- telling him it's okay...
Changmin shifts to sit beside him, back against the wall, letting it hit the metal with a hollow thunk. Letting their shoulders brush together.
"Was it good?" It seems an absurd thing to ask after all this, after Yunho's scorn, Jaejoong's and Yoochun's disregard.
Junsu can't answer that and stay true to the man in the cell next door. "They're the enemy, right? This is nothing we weren't told about in training." Rape, torture, indoctrination: all means the rebels used to gain support.
"Right," Changmin murmurs, scuffing the heel of his boot along the floor, cold for maybe the first time on this planet. "Yoochun kisses a lot softer than you think he would. And Jaejoong's just the opposite, isn't he?" It's the last hand he can play, the last person he can count on.
Junsu turns to stare at him, gaping. "You kissed them too?"
"More," he says simply, not bothering to elaborate, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Was it... bad?" That's got to be why he looks like this, Junsu figures to himself. His blood boils at the thought that Changmin's insistence about pain came from personal experience.
But the younger man shakes his head, drawing his legs up to his chest. "No. It really wasn't. It was really fucking fantastic, actually." A bitter laugh. "No wonder I shame him."
Junsu's hand covers his arm in a protective gesture. "Shame who? Yunho?" A frown. "Because you caved in?"
"Because I was weak," Changmin spits, tensing under Junsu's touch, but not shaking it off. Welcoming his friend's comfort, even as he recognizes the selfishness in talking about such things at this time.
"I turned my back on you. On him. On everything. He was right, I should've just...better dead than a traitor."