[D75] CLIMB OVER THE PARALLEL LINES (1/3)

[kaisooaufest]

Prompt Code: D75
Title: Climb Over The Parallel Lines
Rating: R
Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and death, blood, killing in action scenes, brief mention of noncon activities in passing by OCs
Word Count: 20.2k
Summary: Ksoo!Assassin/Jongin!Doctor - Jongin's smile is so warm. Kyungsoo wonders if his smile would still stay if he knew what Kyungsoo does to land himself here.
AN: Hi there! I tweaked the prompt a little to fit into the plot, hope it’s still okay ;v; Hope you guys enjoy this! ^^ (Thank you e for helping me through it!)



Kyungsoo steadies his breathing, pressing himself against the wall with his finger squeezing closer to the trigger of his gun. It’s dark, enough that he can hide in the shadows without being spotted easily from the spot he’s picked to lie in wait. Three more minutes.

Right on cue, the sound of the hinges squeaking reaches his ears and the front door swings open, the metal grating as it slams shut again. There are footsteps, heavy from the thick boots against the floor. Kyungsoo times it, waiting until they’re just close enough to where he’s standing before swinging out from behind the wall and taking aim. He fires the shot but the man is too fast for him, reacting quickly and ducking out of the way before the bullet blows his brains out. He recovers quickly, pulling his own gun out from the holster strapped to his ankle, bringing it up to fire a shot back. Kyungsoo dodges it, barrelling forward to elbow the man in the face, making a grab at the gun in his hand. The man struggles, trying to gain control but Kyungsoo snaps his wrist hard into the knee he brings slamming up, snapping the gun out of his hand. The gun skids away but he loses his own gun in the process, earning himself a punch to the gut when the man recovers from the knock in his nose. Close combat then.

Kyungsoo raises his fists in front of his face, ready to take him on but the man reaches into the back of his belt and pulls out a switchblade, flicking it open in front of his face. He moves quickly, lunging forward and slashes the air in front of Kyungsoo, just missing his face by a few inches. He tries again and Kyungsoo arches away, holding the armed hand off with a skillful sharp jab to the man’s elbow, locking his arm up momentarily. Undeterred, the man brings his other arm swinging around, his fist aiming for his skull and Kyungsoo can’t move away in time without impaling himself on the knife. The impact of the blow sends him reeling, gasping as the pain explodes behind his eyes. He staggers off balance, unable to stop the knee that smashes straight into his gut, doubling him over. Somehow, he manages to pull it together quickly enough to roll out of the way when the knife comes swinging down, aiming for his spine. Straightening up, Kyungsoo pulls in lungfuls of air before leaping backwards again to avoid another swing of the knife. He’s being backed into the wall but he sees the glint of the giant glass window and he beelines towards it, the man hot on his heels. Kyungsoo doesn’t bother with covering his hand up, smashing his fist right into the glass to shatter it into pieces. The impact shoots a sharp sting of pain zinging up his hand, bleeding from the glass shards but he pushes it aside, picking up the largest broken shard he can find on the ground.

Smirking, the man pushes forward again, starting with a kick that Kyungsoo deflects before bringing the knife back forward, trying to disembowel him. He manages to slice through Kyungsoo’s arm instead, hot white pain burning in his skin as the blade cuts his bicep open, feeling the warm trickle of blood streaming down his arm. Grunting, he switches hands with the shard of glass, cracking his neck grumpily. This got a whole lot messier than it needed to be.

He deflects another swing of the knife coming at his face, latching onto the man’s wrist this time and twisting it around as hard as he can. The sound of breaking bones is indication enough that it’s broken, coupled with the man’s cry of pain. He uses the broken wrist to force him down, squeezing down hard enough to make him drop the knife, hearing the blade clack onto the ground. The man tries for another blow in the gut but Kyungsoo’s had enough, bringing the shard of glass down and plunging it right into the side of the man’s neck, severing his jugular in one swift movement. The man finally stops, going limp as he chokes on his own blood, bleeding out from his neck. Kyungsoo braces a boot on the man’s chest and kicks him back roughly, sending him sprawling to bleed out on the ground instead of on him. The man’s breathing rasps a while longer until it finally stops and his body stills lifelessly.

Heaving out a huge sigh, Kyungsoo straightens up, groaning when he feels bones shifting uncomfortably under his skin, sending a twinge of pain in his chest. Fractured rib, maybe. He’ll have to get that checked out. His hand is busted too, cut open with bits of glass still embedded in his skin from the broken window. He leaves it be for the moment, struggling to pull the burner phone out from his back pocket, dialling a number he’s memorized by heart.

“It’s done,” he says shortly when the other end picks up. The call ends seconds later without a word but Kyungsoo knows they’ve gotten the message. They pay him in cash, so Kyungsoo will need to pick it up himself later.

He turns back to where the body of the man is crumpled, staring down at him coldly. Yang Hyunjun, 35 years old, CEO of a major oil company. It doesn’t matter why the government wanted him dead, always after their own political agenda. Kyungsoo’s read his file, all of it. That includes the multiple counts of rape charges made against him that were dropped after a sizeable bribe to the judge. His secretary, a hotel maid and even his own sister. That’s why Kyungsoo took the job. It’s part of the deal he’d struck with the government after being approached by them first. They give him information and enough to pay the bills and get by, and he helps get rid of specific targets. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship that suits both of them. It’s all off the books, of course. Kyungsoo doesn’t keep most of the money anyway, finding a better use for it by anonymously giving it to the string of victims who’ve suffered at the hands of the criminals Kyungsoo takes down..

He steps over the body, not bothering to clean the place up. They’ll send their own people to clear the place up, like they always do. Kyungsoo never asks what they do with the bodies and he doesn’t really care anyhow, preferring not to make it his business to know. Kyungsoo considers going back home, suddenly exhausted, but he’s still bleeding badly from his hand and bicep, and he’d rather get his ribs checked out before he wakes up with a punctured lung or something. The hospital is only a few miles from here.

He finds a bathroom around back before he leaves, letting the water flow freely from the tap as he tries to wash the blood and grime off his face to at least make himself more presentable to the public. Kyungsoo splashes some more water onto his face, relishing the cool feeling calming him down. He stares at his reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror on the wall, noting numbly how dead his eyes look. There’s a coldness to them, one he never used to see in his eyes until he went too far into this line of work, getting in too deep until he’d passed the point of no return, unable to come back from everything. His mind spins, running wild with memories again before he can stop them. The flashes of dripping blood fill his head up again, agonizing memories like a noose around his throat, always coming back to rush before his eyes before he can even stop them or ward them off. The crimson surges, filling his vision and Kyungsoo smashes his fist into the mirror, shattering his reflection away. The memories finally stop.

He stares down at his bloody fist, waiting for the shaking to stop. Kyungsoo wraps it up in a rag loosely, leaving the building through the back door where he’d left his motor bike, leaning against the wall of the alley. The pain flares up again when he curls his hand around the handlebars, hissing at the painful pull of his skin around the open wounds. Revving the engine up, he doesn’t spare another look over his shoulder before pulling out into the street driving away from the building.

It's late out, nearing the later hours of the evening but the hospital is still bustling with activity, the emergency doors bursting open again and again as more gurneys and people come through them, needing immediate assistance. Kyungsoo steps inside quietly, staying out of the doctors' way to let them tend to the more urgent patients filtering in. He goes to the reception instead, calmly explaining what kind of treatment he needs and gets sent over to one of the gurneys separated by thin curtains to wait until someone comes by on their rounds to tend to him.

It's always noisy in here. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and lets the sounds wash over him. He's been here his fair share of times after a messy job like this one, familiar enough with the place that it doesn't feel foreign to him. He's never been one for hospitals, preferring to avoid them but there's something about the constant stream of noise, that there's never a moment of stillness or silence, that reels him back in without avoiding it. It sits comfortably in his gut, chasing away the initial aversion to the smell of the bleach and antiseptic.

The moment is cut short when the curtain around him rips open and a familiar face pops around with a chart in his hands.

"Mr. Do? Already back so soon?"

The doctor, Jongin, closes the curtain back around them, offering Kyungsoo a smile.

"You come here so often you might as well just book a private room for yourself," Jongin teases, putting the chart down and coaxing Kyungsoo to lift his arms up straight in front of him. He pulls out his flashlight from his coat breast pocket, flashing it in Kyungsoo's eyes but rules out a concussion, which Kyungsoo is relieved to hear.

"Did you fall off your bike again?"

Jongin's smile is so warm. Kyungsoo wonders if his smile would still stay if he knew what Kyungsoo does to land himself here.

"Yeah," he says, looking away from Jongin's eyes, staring down at a spot behind him instead, studying the gaudy flowers on the curtain. "Maybe I should think about getting a car."

Jongin laughs, pulling a chair over to sit down, leveling with Kyungsoo's hand where it's still a bleeding mess. He's gentle when he holds Kyungsoo's hand steady to pull the broken pieces of glass out, discarding the bloody pieces in a metal tray. The antiseptic burns but Kyungsoo reins it in, biting down hard on his lip. Jongin makes quick work of it, patching up the open wounds neatly before winding a roll of gauze around his hand neatly. He spots the gash on his bicep under the ripped flaps of his shirt and turns to tend to it the same way.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company," Jongin starts quietly, patting his bound arm gently before Kyungsoo pulls it back onto his own knee. "But take care of yourself, okay?"

His eyes are wide and honest, that sincerity of his burning through like fire. He's concerned, but then he's a doctor; it's in his nature to be concerned about his health. It feels almost misplaced all things considered. Kyungsoo doesn't say anything, silent as he stares down at the clean gauze around his hand.

Jongin strips his bloodied gloves off, tossing them in the bin before checking over the rest of Kyungsoo’s body, pressing his fingers into his ribs and Kyungsoo can't hold back the way he winces this time.

"Well, they’re not broken," Jongin says finally and Kyungsoo drops his shirt back down. Jongin's eyes still catch on the patchwork of scars around his entire body, lingering like he can't help himself, even after having seen them a number of times before during Kyungsoo's previous visits here. "That's going to be a nasty bruise though so you'll need to ice it and get lots of rest."

He stresses the last bit sternly and Kyungsoo manages a smile at the imploring look on Jongin's face. He knows he's a stubborn patient.

"I'll write you a prescription for some pain meds and then you're free to go, Mr. Do," Jongin says, turning to get his prescription pad out and Kyungsoo slides off the stretched bed, slipping back into his jacket. Kyungsoo takes the prescription, nodding gratefully as he tucks it into his pocket.

"Thanks," Kyungsoo says, pulling his keys out from his pocket. Jongin looks down at them reproachfully.

"I could call you a cab, you really shouldn't be driving on a damaged bike-"

"I'll be fine, doc," Kyungsoo says, managing another smile at the concern. It's out of place but nice to hear directed at him all the same.

"Jongin. Just call me Jongin."

"Jongin." Kyungsoo looks up at him, watching the hint of an exasperated smile tugging at the corner of Jongin's mouth.

"I guess...I hope I don't see you around, then?" Jongin jokes, waving a hand at the bloody glass behind him and the hospital bed.

Kyungsoo offers a small smile, pushing the curtains aside and throws a short wave over his shoulder in thanks before walking out, heading back out into the night chill where he'd left his bike. It's a little tricky working the handlebar and breaks with his hand bound up like this but he manages, having had far worse before.

He's tired when he finally gets back to his small apartment, pushing the wobbly door open to step inside. He slips his jacket off with a grunt, feeling his chest ache as he throws it aside and slumps down on his bed, not bothering to go and shower.

He closes his eyes. It's cold in here, always so cold no matter what he covers himself up with or how high he turns up the weak, faulty heater in here. Kyungsoo exhales through his nose and lets the thick, heavy silence settle over him again, cold and vacant as ever, weighing down on his chest and lulling him into a restless sleep.

▸

Working on commission means Kyungsoo has plenty of free time to spare during the day with nothing much to do. His apartment is the size of a shoebox so cleaning up the place barely takes him an hour. It's enough to work up an appetite though and Kyungsoo sighs when he opens the fridge door, eyeing the lone carton of milk and half empty packet of ham left on the bare shelves.

The grocery store is only a few blocks away from his place, and Kyungsoo tugs his cap down lower over his eyes, keeping his hands tucked into his pockets as he makes his way across the street. It's still early on a Saturday morning, so the streets are empty for the most part other than a handful of early risers like him. The store is bustling with a lot more people and Kyungsoo slips through the throng of people, grabbing things off the shelves deftly and sliding past the crowd unnoticed.

He stops by the freezer, eyeing the buckets of ice cream. It's been getting hotter lately and he hasn't indulged himself with something sugary in a while. His eyes skim over the labels till he finds the cookie crumble one he's fond of, the last one left in the freezer. Leaning over the edge, he reaches out for it at the same time that someone else's hand reaches over for it too, bumping into his.

"Oh, sorry- Kyungsoo?"

Startled, Kyungsoo retracts his hand, instinctively shrinking back on high alert into a defensive stance. It's a voice he recognizes though, and Kyungsoo looks up to see Jongin there, blinking at him.

"Doc- Jongin," Kyungsoo amends, relaxing his muscles and breathing properly again. "Hi."

"You like the cookie crumble too, huh?" Jongin smiles, picking up the tub and setting it down in Kyungsoo's carrier bag.

"I don't usually see you around here," Kyungsoo comments, surprised. The hospital is a good distance away from here though he has no idea where Jongin lives.

"Yeah, well," Jongin scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, offering an embarrassed smile. "The stores on my side of town don't really have much ice cream flavours to choose from, this place has the best ones."

Kyungsoo stares at him pensively for a moment before hauling the ice cream tub out of his basket and pushing into Jongin's hands.

"I can do chocolate too," he says simply, picking one out from the freezer, refusing to take the cookie crumble back when Jongin tries.

"Thanks," Jongin concedes eventually, looking a little flushed. "So, you live in this area then? It's pretty nice."

He falls into step with Kyungsoo as they make their way out of the freezer aisle, over to the canned goods.

"It's alright," Kyungsoo says, reaching for a can of tuna. He notices the printed T-shirt Jongin's wearing, and his tight, fitted jeans. It's strange seeing him out of his scrubs and white coat for the first time.

"I've finally got a day off from the hospital," Jongin beams, realizing what he's thinking.

"Any big plans?" Kyungsoo asks.

"Uh, well," Jongin looks down at the ice cream tub in his hands. "This, really. And sleeping. Lots of sleeping."

Kyungsoo manages a smile, chuckling under his breath. He ducks over to the next aisle, scooping up a handful of popcorn packs and balances them on the lid of Jongin's ice cream.

"Might as well go all out," he says, pleased when Jongin laughs. They get in line to pay for their things and Jongin goes first, bagging up his ice cream and popcorn after paying.

He steps aside and waits patiently for Kyungsoo while he pays for his things, smiling again when he's done. He smiles a lot, Kyungsoo notes, keeping his eyes firmly down. It's nice.

"I should get going, then," Jongin says, jabbing a finger over his shoulder, in the opposite direction of where Kyungsoo lives. "It was nice seeing you not bloodied and bruised for a change."

He means it lightly, with a humorous tone and Kyungsoo works a smile on his face through the sharp pang it sends in his chest.

"Enjoy the ice cream," he says, waving one last time as they go their separate ways. He stops himself from turning back to look at Jongin's retreating figure.

His apartment is as still and silent as his left it, somehow feeling more hollow than it usually does when he steps inside, out of the bright sunlight. He puts everything in the fridge, wondering if 9am is too early for ice cream. He's suddenly craving it.

A high pitched meow catches his attention and Kyungsoo turns to the fire escape, spotting the grey tipped ears of the stray cat that visits his balcony every now and then.

Working open the tuna can he'd just bought, Kyungsoo shovels some onto a small plate and takes it out onto the balcony, sitting back on his haunches as he watches the cat nibble at the food. It doesn't flinch when Kyungsoo reaches out tentatively to scratch its head, pleased with the attention, or at least distracted enough by the food to not be bothered. The cat licks the plate clean in seconds and leans into Kyungsoo's hand, purring and meowing needily. It sniffs at Kyungsoo's fingers, turning back to sniff at the empty plate, clearly realizing that there's no more food left. The cat turns and leaps off the fire escape in one swift movement, landing on the high brick wall enclosing a small field below.

Sighing, Kyungsoo watches it go, disappearing behind the wall in seconds, leaving him with nothing but the empty plate to take back into his empty apartment.

▸

Kyungsoo slides into one of the corner booths in the cafe, a different one this time, as usual. The waitress comes to his table to pour him some coffee and Kyungsoo cups the mug in his hands, letting the heat seep into his palms. He's meeting his contact here for his next assignment.

Kyungsoo stares down at the swirling coffee, still too hot to drink, lost in thought. He picks at the raised skin running along the back of his hand, a scar he got years ago, back when he was still in the special forces. It’s been months since he quit, having handed in his badge shortly after his brother died.

He remembers it vividly, replaying the scene over and over in his head, when he’s awake and in his dreams. Kyungsoo had watched as Seungsoo waved at him from across the street, on his way to have lunch with him, not even noticing the hooded figure standing behind him till he’d pulled out a gun and shot Seungsoo in the back.

There was so much blood pooling around him on the ground, drenching Kyungsoo’s clothes when he finally got to him, holding him in his arms as Seungsoo choked on his own blood. He was gone in seconds, and Kyungsoo could see the life leaving his eyes.

He remembers standing in court, watching in disbelief as his brother’s killer stood there in an expensive suit and the best lawyer money could buy, smiling when he was given a sentence of 6 months for lack of evidence. The gun had been wiped clean of prints and the cctv cameras in the area were somehow disabled at the time. There was no evidence. Kyungsoo called their bullshit, accusing them of manipulatin the evidence. He was certain this was a planned, organized hit and the last thing he saw before getting dragged out of the courtroom was the killer’s smug face that only confirmed it. It seemed unreal to think that someone would want to kill Seungsoo, a simple government worker, yet everything seemed to point to that.

By the time the killer was released, he’d already disappeared off the grid, heading underground, into hiding. Kyungsoo tried everything and used every resource he could get his hands on, chasing every lead he could find but kept hitting a dead end. His supervisor wouldn’t listen, telling him to let the case go, that there was nothing else they could do now and cut off his resources, revoking his authorization to look into the case.

Furious, Kyungsoo quit the force, angered by the limits of the law and justice, restricted to a point where bad people would be allowed to get away with their crimes like it was nothing. He couldn’t be a part of that anymore.

Kyungsoo was approached some time later by a man called Chuwon, saying he worked for a different sector in the government that sympathized with him and his loss. Chuwon asked him if he wanted the chance to really make a difference, to deal the real kind of justice he was seeking. He offered him a deal; he would help him find out who ordered the kill on his brother with his resources if Kyungsoo helped them with some favours, off the book, in return.

Kyungsoo refused the moment Chuwon told him what he’d be doing until he described the kind of targets he’d be getting; corrupt businessmen, untouchable by the law with enough money to buy their way out of anything.

It took some more persuading and a lot more time to think over engaging in something so questionable before Kyungsoo said yes. He thought about Seungsoo, and the unfairness of how he’d died and been put to rest in a grave without the justice he deserved. Kyungsoo agreed to it. He gave them his terms, only agreeing to work for them as long as the targets had that specific profile.

They’ve stayed true to their word, in turn, hunting down leads and giving Kyungsoo more information about what they’ve found ever since then, though it hasn’t been much. It was an organized hit and and they got their hands on the full background of Seungsoo’s killer and what organizations he was involved in, including a number of gangs working hand in hand with white collar conglomerates. They’ve been giving him information in bits and pieces as they go since he took up the first job.

Kyungsoo hears the bells jingle somewhere behind him when someone pushes the door open and he snaps out of the memories, glancing down at his watch; punctual as always. He can hear someone sliding into the booth behind him, settling in the seat that’s back to back with his. The cafe is fairly empty this time of the evening, helping them blend in more inconspicuously. Kyungsoo anticipates the rustling sound of a brown enveloped being slid over to him through the gap between the windowsill and the booth, as Kyungsoo had strategically picked it out. He grabs the envelope and takes a sip from his coffee nonchalantly.

“We’ve got another lead. A big one” Chuwon murmurs and Kyungsoo perks up at the sound that they might finally have gotten their hands on new, decent information. “For a price.”

"Three days," Chuwon murmurs as Kyungsoo opens the envelope. “We need you to get rid of him.”

The burner phone slides out first and he pockets it before pulling out the thin stack of papers and photos. His heart stops.

"This-"

He stares at the photo of the next target they're asking him to take down. It's Jongin. Kyungsoo balks, gaping at the rest of the photos, tailing Jongin as he goes in and out of the hospital, even one of his coming out of his house.

"I- what do you need with a doctor? What did he do?” Kyungsoo manages in a tight voice, staring at Jongin's face, caught with a smile in one of the snapshots.

"We need to keep him quiet. He's been meddling in things he shouldn't be." Chuwon’s tone changes, lilting with suspicion and Kyungsoo catches himself, realizing how out of character this outburst is when he's never asked questions before. Still, he can't help it.

“This wasn't part of the deal,” he grits out. “I said I’d only go after criminals.”

"You need this information about your brother don’t you? What we’s got is key,” Chuwon says. “Is this going to be a problem?"

Kyungsoo swallows and pushes the pictures back inside the envelope, smoothing out his expression though his hands are fisted on the table in front of him. The memory of his brother’s face floats up into his mind again, before his eyes.

"No."

He stays seated in the booth long after Chuwon has already left, after his coffee has already gone stone cold.

▸

None of it adds up. Jongin is a good person, there’s no way he’s anything like the people Kyungsoo has been tasked to take out before. With the others, he’d seen it with his own eyes, keeping his targets under close surveillance before taking them out strategically. He could see then, the kind of people that they were.

With Jongin though; Kyungsoo has spoken to him countless times, even met him outside his workplace and he’s close to the epitome of what a decent person would be. It’s hard to believe he could possible have some level of darkness buried and hidden within him underneath this person Kyungsoo knows. He’s friendly and kind, he’s warm and Kyungsoo can’t even think about killing him. He can’t do it.

Their initial agreement was that he would be given tasks to terminate people who are scum, ones that deserve it. This time though, Jongin is the one target that doesn’t deserve it. There isn’t even a back record of any convictions or offences in Jongin’s name in his file. Chuwon just pushed all the right buttons and said all the right words to make him take this up, baiting him with his brother’s case.

His three days are up before he knows it, having spent too much time thinking it over and he’s out of time but he still can’t do it. This is wrong.

The burner phone he’d gotten from Chuwon starts to ring and Kyungsoo swallows tightly, letting it ring on a little too long before answering the call.

“You’re late.”

“I need more time,” Kyungsoo says, desperately. He needs to find a way around this, he needs a plan. One that doesn’t end up with Jongin dying.

“You’ve never needed more time.”

“Just give me-”

“If you’re not up to the job we’ll send someone else.”

“Wai-”

The call ends before he can say anything else.

Shit. Kyungsoo clenches the phone in his hand, pressing it to his forehead as he leans his elbows on his knees. He has to do something; he needs to make a move before the other person they’re sending gets there. Kyungsoo spares a moment to think about the important lead they would have given him on Seungsoo’s case if he’d finished this job, and he grits his teeth, pushing it out of his mind.

Tossing the phone aside, Kyungsoo yanks his jacket on and tucks his gun into his belt, hiding it behind the flap of his jacket before heading out of his apartment. He prays that his bike is fast enough to get to the hospital before anyone else does.

The sun has already set by the time Kyungsoo gets there, turning off the engine and hopping off to dart into the hospital from the back entrance. He glances at his watch seeing how late it is. It’s just about the time when Jongin usually gets off work from a late shift.

Kyungsoo passes by the reception area and just catches the tail end of a murmured conversation.

“Dr. Kim? His shift is over. You might find him in the locker rooms, just take the elevator, one floor up.”

He glances at the man asking, donning a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck but Kyungsoo can see the fake lenses of his glasses and the discreet bulge of a gun around his hip.

Kyungsoo backs away silently and takes another route, trying to find a quicker way to the locker rooms. He ducks into the fire escape stairs, taking them three by three as he goes up to the next floor

The corridors are much more quiet up here in the middle of the staff rooms and Kyungsoo treads carefully, keeping a hand drawn back to his hip to reach for his gun if he has to.

He can see a light up ahead, shining out through an open door and Kyungsoo quickens his pace.

“-can I help you?”

Jongin’s voice floats out and Kyungsoo tears into the room desperately, just in time to see Jongin’s eyes widen at the gun being pointed to his face.

“Get down!” Kyungsoo barks, aiming a sharp, calculated kick into the back of the man’s knees and yanks his wrist upwards. The gun fires out a shot and the bullet embeds itself in the ceiling. Luckily, there’s a silencer attached to the nozzle, muting the sound almost entirely to avoid attracting attention. Jongin ducks behind one of the lockers, looking terrified as he shields his head with his hands.

The man smashes his elbow back into Kyungsoo’s gut, doubling him over but Kyungsoo keeps holding onto his wrist, swinging him around, away from Jongin. He manages to reach back and pull out his gun but the man reacts quickly, turning and and smashing it out of his hand. It skids across the floor, sliding under the lockers.

Grunting, Kyungsoo swings his fist back up to get a good blow on the man’s face, throwing him off enough to twist his wrist around and smash the gun out of his hand. It skids far out of reach, under a cabinet by the wall.

The man fights Kyungsoo off and lunges for it. Kyungsoo is too far away from his own gun to even consider making a grab for it. Instead, he dashes over to where Jongin is trying to make himself as small as possible, yanking him up and dragging him out of the room before the man has managed to retrieve his gun.

“Which is the fastest way out?” Kyungsoo asks, sprinting down the corridor with Jongin in tow, holding on to his wrist.

“What the hell is going on, why are you h-”

“Jongin!”

Jongin skids to a stop, taking a right into one of the branching corridors.

“There’s a back door leading down to the car park from here,” he pants, heaving the door open. He looks pale and scared but he’s pushing forward and that’s the best that Kyungsoo can ask for right now.

They take the stairs and Jongin nearly stumbles and falls before getting his balance back, staggering over to push through the door at the bottom of the staircase. They come out into the dark car park outside, dimly lit by the streetlights.

“This way,” Kyungsoo says, leading them up the road to get around to where he left his bike.

He hears the door smashing open again behind them, and yanks Jongin down behind a car just before a bullet whistles through the air, smashing into the windshield instead.

“What do we do?” Jongin wheezes frantically, raising a shaky hand to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Gritting his teeth, Kyungsoo looks around, trying to find the best route to get out of here without a bullet in their skulls.

He can hear the man approaching, his shadow looming in closer to where they are. Another bullet ricochets off the side of the car, closer to where they’re hiding and Kyungsoo acts quickly, grabbing a rock off the ground from the crumbling pavement.

“On three, run that way up the road, around the corner,” Kyungsoo instructs quickly, and Jongin nods, too scared for his life to question him. They’re only a few steps away from the wall around the building.

“One, two,” Kyungsoo says under his breath, gearing himself up to run. “Three!”

He lunges in the opposite direction than Jongin, smashing the rock into the windshield of the next car over, completely shattering the glass. The shrill car alarm pierces through the air and it works well enough as a distraction when the man fires another bullet in the direction of the sound, giving Jongin enough time to dart around the corner. Kyungsoo slides over the hood of the car onto the other side, taking the man by surprise enough to kick him down, off balance. He seizes the chance to run, heading for cover before the man recovers. Kyungsoo has almost made it before suddenly feeling a sharp pain in his side, hissing just as he ducks around the corner. He pushes on, catching up to where he can see Jongin still running.

“Over here!” he calls, leading the way to his bike and hurriedly yanks his keys out to get the engine going the second he gets on. Jongin wastes no time, climbing onto the bike behind him and holds on tightly to his jacket.

Kyungsoo can see the man coming around the corner, already raising the gun to shoot again and he pulls out of the lot, backing out onto the street and revs the engine up to full speed, immediately driving away.

“Where are we going?” Jongin asks loudly, trying to be heard over the wind at the speed they’re going. He clutches at Kyungsoo’s waist more tightly in an effort not to fall off and Kyungsoo swallows down his groan when a spike of pain shoots up his side.

“A safe house,” he says in reply, getting them off the mainroad to take down the darker, quieter side streets instead. “We need to lie low before they send more.”

It’s a good distance away from the hospital, in the opposite direction of his own apartment and hopefully far away enough from Jongin’s place too. It’s a long ride and Kyungsoo puts on an extra burst of speed, wary that they might be getting tailed and also starting to feel dizzy from the pain flaring up.

He pulls up in a small side alley, driving the bike up into a small garage before shutting the engine off. Pulling out the key, he pushes the door to the apartment open and ushers Jongin inside, locking the door behind him and bolting it shut.

He reaches up to flick the lights on and the movement sends a wave of dizziness and pain washing over him, making his knees buckle. He crumples, nearly hitting the ground before Jongin catches him, quick to react.

“You’re bleeding!” Jongin exclaims, holding his hand up shining with Kyungsoo’s blood.

“Didn’t run fast enough,” Kyungsoo grunts as Jongin drags him over to the couch to lay him down gently. He pulls Kyungsoo’s shirt up slowly, shucking it up away from the wound before inspecting it, lifting him up a few inches to check behind his waist.

“Clean shot,” he says, laying Kyungsoo back down. “The bullet went right through.”

He grabs Kyungsoo’s hand and flattens it over the wound, staunching the blood flow.

“You need to put pressure on it,” Jongin instructs him, striding over into the kitchen. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Bathroom cabinet.”

If he had the energy to spare, Kyungsoo would have to chuckle at the irony of how the tables have turned.

Jongin rushes back to his side, dropping down on his knees, his hands full with the medkit, a bowl of water and towels. He gets to work, pushing Kyungsoo’s hand aside to start cleaning the wound and patching him up. His brows are furrowed in concentration, pulling tools out of the medkit and threading the needle.

“What the hell is going on?” Jongin asks finally, entirely focused on what he’s doing but he can’t stop the quaver in his voice. “Why are people trying to kill me?”

“You tell me,” Kyungsoo says, eyeing him. “Why would someone want to kill a doctor?”

Jongin bites his lip, staying silent though Kyungsoo fills that silence with a groan of pain when Jongin cleans up the wound with disinfectant.

“How did you know?” Jongin says quietly, focusing on closing up the wound.

Kyungsoo looks at him. “Know what?”

Jongin finally looks up and he looks wary and confused. “That I would be there. That someone else would be there to try and kill me.”

He knew that was coming at some point. Jongin looks afraid even if the confidence is clear in the way his hands move with practiced ease, twisting the needle and thread in and out. He thinks about the way Jongin usually looks at him and talks to him, warm and friendly and wonders how his eyes will change when he hears the truth.

He could lie to him, make up some story to cover it up. He’s no stranger to lying when he lives one everyday. Except there’s a heavy loneliness in lying and Kyungsoo finds it harder to even think about lying to Jongin to his face too.

“Because I was supposed to be the one who killed you.”

Jongin’s hands freeze mid stitch and Kyungsoo holds his breath, resigned for the worst. He swallows visibly and his fingers start to tremble a bit around the needle.

“Jongin-”

“Don’t,” Jongin cuts in, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t- just- give me a second I-”

He struggles, shaking his head and swallows again.

“Why didn’t you?” he asks finally, looking up at Kyungsoo with a mixture of fear and confusion in his eyes.

Kyungsoo presses his lips together, wondering where to even begin with answering that question.

“It’s complicated.”

Jongin frowns, still shaking and Kyungsoo feels his heart sink at what he’s shattered. The wound is still half open and Kyungsoo wonders if Jongin is going to leave him like that and make a break for it.

Instead, Jongin turns back to the wound and keeps on stitching it in silence, cleaning it up when he’s done and carefully smooths down a patch of gauze over it.

He sits back when he’s done, wiping his hands off with the wet rag.

“Now we’re even.”

He stands up and walks away without a word. He seems to realize that he can’t leave just yet, recognizing the gravity and danger of the situation he’s in. He turns and disappears into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind him. Kyungsoo hears the lock turn and click into place.

He sighs, pressing his fingers into his eyes, trying to rub out the headache. The pain in his side spikes up sharply, throbbing more achingly now that he’s actually letting his guard down and registering it properly. He wants to get up but just can’t find the strength for it. He thinks about what a mess everything is, but he doesn’t regret what he’s done for a single second. Jongin’s alive; that’s all that matters. He lies there until he passes out from the pain and exhaustion.

When Kyungsoo wakes up again, his tongue feels like cotton and every fibre in his body aches. He groans in pain, clutching at his side when it sears agonizingly as though he’s being shot all over again. He tries to sit up but still can’t quite manage it. Instead, he notices a couple of painkillers and a glass of water sitting on the coffee table. Jongin must have put them out there while he was passed out. Everything hurts and Kyungsoo sighs, feeling a pool of regret and guilt building in the pit of his stomach, still grateful that Jongin even thought to do that for him after what he told him.

Drinking the water thirstily, he swallows down the pills, urging them to kick in quickly. He lies there a while longer before trying to get up again, grunting at the effort and beads of sweat starts forming on his forehead at the sharp stabs of pain. He manages to push himself upright, gripping the side of the couch tightly and shuffles his way to the kitchen. He leans over the sink with difficulty, trying to splash some water on his face, feeling rather grimy and dirty with his entire front still covered in blood.The movement is still too much for him, shooting a spell of dizziness through him when he straightens back up, feeling another spike of pain zinging up his side and his knees go weak.

“You shouldn’t be up- woah!” Jongin’s voice comes up behind him just as Kyungsoo feels his legs give out. Jongin catches him, steadying him and helping him into one of the kitchen chairs and Kyungsoo breathes heavily. Jongin suddenly looks out of place, shifting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself and sits at the other end of the table instead.

He looks like he has a lot to say. Kyungsoo braces himself for it, waiting for anything, for Jongin’s anger, his disgust, his coldness.

“You didn’t answer my question yesterday,” Jongin says instead, folding his arms on the edge of the table.

“I said it was complicated,” Kyungsoo says again.

“That’s not good enough,” Jongin frowns. “I need to know why. I need to know who you are, what you do. Why you do it.”

Kyungsoo sighs, gripping the edge of the table tightly. There’s really not much more damage he could do by just telling him everything, after last night. He pauses, trying to find a place to start and swallows when Seungsoo’s face appears first in his mind, the reason he went down this road in the first place.

Kyungsoo decides to start from there, watching Jongin’s face closely at his words, seeing the initial sympathy there through his confliction. He tells him everything without trying to sugarcoat it when there’s nothing he could hide at this point anyway. Jongin’s expression twists when Kyungsoo tells him about his targets, sparing him those details at least though Jongin gets the gist by now, having seen him at it first hand.

“So every time you came to the hospital covered in cuts and broken bones,” Jongin says breathlessly, as the realization hits. He looks stunned. “It’s because you were-?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says.

Jongin’s brows furrow, troubled and confused, struggling to find something to say as he opens and closes his mouth numbly.

Kyungsoo presses forward onto a more urgent matter.

“Why would someone want to have you killed?” he asks and Jongin balks at the questions, visibly swallowing.

“I don’t- I mean it can’t be-” Jongin frowns, trailing off uncertainly.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo probes.

Jongin looks up at him, biting his lip before breathing out a sigh.

“There’s been a string of John Doe cases at the hospital recently,” he starts. “I started looking into them when things weren’t adding up after the last one came in but the board keeps dismissing my reports and inquires, refusing to look into it. Their medical charts are locked now, I can’t access them anymore.”

“What did you find?” Kyungsoo frowns, trying to find a link between this and Chuwon’s reason for having him eliminated.

“The autopsy reports weren’t accurate, they were missing details,” Jongin says. “I treated the last one that came in before he died of a gunshot wound but he had traces of plutonium and uranium in his bloodstream. He had the exact same symptoms as the other John Doe’s that came in but their charts were being altered to erase any mention of it.”

“Plutonium?” Kyungsoo frowns.

“They all had radiation poisoning,” Jongin goes on.

“Why would they care about that?” Kyungsoo mutters under his breath, feeling like something’s missing from the puzzle.

“They don’t tell you this stuff before sending you off to kill someone?” Jongin probably intends for it to sound a little more scathing than it does but Kyungsoo can see the lines of fear all over his face. He looks shaken.

“Not this time,” Kyungsoo says simply.

Jongin looks down at the table, fidgeting with his hands before standing up slowly and retreating to his bedroom.

▸

It's still difficult to shower when he's trying to avoid getting his stitches wet. Jongin had been very clear about keeping them dry and Kyungsoo has no intention of prolonging this healing period.

His movements are still stiff, hindered by the painful pull of the stitches on his skin and the ache of the injury itself that still hasn't done much healing yet. Kyungsoo groans as he bends over to pull on a fresh pair of pants after drying himself off, slipping a loose shirt over his head.

Jongin is pacing around the kitchen when Kyungsoo emerges from the bathroom, a frown creasing his forehead as he gnaws on the tip of his thumb, clearly anxious.

"Do you have a phone here?" he turns to Kyungsoo before he can ask what's wrong. "I need to call the hospital, I've been gone from work for too long. I need to go back."

Kyungsoo throws his towel aside, frowning.

"You can't," he says incredulously, glad that he actually doesn't have a landline here that Jongin's might have used while he was distracted.

"You're a target now, they're still looking for you out there," Kyungsoo tells him. "The second you leave here, they'll find you and-"

He stops himself from saying 'kill you' for Jongin's benefit but the implication is still there and Jongin gets it loud and clear. He frowns deeper and turns away but Kyungsoo can still see his hands shaking.

"Are you?" he asks quietly, still facing away. He doesn't elaborate but Kyungsoo knows what he's asking. If Kyungsoo is just playing with him, if he's going to kill him anyway, if this was all part of some bigger plan all along to the same end.

"No."

Jongin retreats to his room after that and Kyungsoo putters around in the kitchen, trying to find something to do. Everything is a mess, particularly since he’s dragged Jongin into a situation where he’s stuck with him, knowing what he knows about Kyungsoo’s own life. He can’t expect Jongin to understand or be okay with it. He remembers a time when he was disgusted at himself for taking on these jobs before he realized and accepted that it was the only way something would ever be done to people who continue to get away with things.

Still, at least Jongin hasn’t shut himself off completely from Kyungsoo, though he can’t tell what’s going through Jongin’s mind. He’s clearly uncomfortable, maybe even fearful, and Kyungsoo feels his stomach drop at how things have turned out.

He pulls out some food from the fridge, absently chopping up some vegetables, barely paying attention to the rice and meat he’s trying to cook. The sizzling sound of the meat frying is like white noise, clearing his mind for a few relieving moments.

Kyungsoo hears the bedroom door opening and turns in time to see Jongin shuffling in, his shoulders hunched up with his hands in his pockets.

“It smells delicious,” he notes quietly, standing uncertainly at the doorway like he doesn’t know if he should come in or retreat again.

“There’s enough for two if you’d like,” Kyungsoo says, having intended to make enough for both of them anyway.

Jongin nods slowly, taking a decisive step forward and pulls a chair out to sit at the table while Kyungsoo serves the food on plates for both of them.

They eat in silence, with nothing but the clinking sounds of their cutlery against the plates, slicing through the meat. Jongin shovels spoonfuls of rice into his mouth, clearly famished and Kyungsoo munches his own food quietly,

“Do you regret doing what you do?” Jongin asks suddenly, shifting rice around his bowl with his spoon.

Kyungsoo finishes his mouthful, eyeing Jongin pensively. “No.”

Jongin frowns, clearly not having expected that answer from him. He sets down his spoon, his mouth falling open a little.

“But- you’re taking people’s lives.”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes. “They’re bad people.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to kill!” Jongin says incredulously.

“Isn’t it?” Kyungsoo retorts. “Don’t you ever wonder if it would be better for everyone to stop when someone brings a rapist to your operating table?”

“I took an oath,” Jongin throws back. “My job is to save lives, to treat everyone’s life equally when they need saving. The authorities deal with whatever comes after that.”

“The authorities?” Kyungsoo scoffs, gripping his fork tightly in his fist. “They’re powerless. The justice system is flawed and biased, swayed by bribes and connections.”

“Criminals get the sentence they deserve-”

“Criminals always get away with whatever they want with the right kind of money and lawyers. They’re back out on the streets in no time, back to doing the shit that hurts others.”

“You kill people!”

“How is it any different from state approved capital punishment? I find a permanent solution to a problem that the law refuses to fix,” Kyungsoo fires back. “Why should I just stand by when I know there’s something I can do about it where no one else will?

“That’s not your decision to make,” Jongin exclaims, incredulously. “You can’t just decide whose life you can or can’t take. It’s not your call.”

“Why can’t I? What is their life worth compared to the innocent people who suffer because of them? They don’t deserve to walk free and keep doing what they do.”

“Killing people won’t take away the pain they’ve caused”

“No but it will keep them from making more people suffer.”

“Then what does that make you?” Jongin shouts. “You’re murdering people because you think it’s right out of your own tailored moral conscience. What does that make you?”

“It makes me the person who keeps this shit from happening over and over again. People don’t change,” Kyungsoo says. “Would you rather let a person keep beating their child just because it’s ‘wrong’ to stop him the only way that it would work?”

“That’s not what I said,” Jongin grits out. “There’s other ways, you don’t have to kill them to get justice.”

“There is no justice. I don’t like doing what I do, but I don’t regret it either. If me being a monster is what it takes to save other innocent people’s lives then so be it.”

“Except you take a life for a cheque. Is it really about justice for you or about the money?”

Kyungsoo freezes, pressing his teeth together, feeling the back of his throat ache.

“I already told you why I’m doing this,” he says quietly. He can see the red stains again, hot and sticky, dripping all around him.

Jongin clamps his mouth shut, looking torn between angry and mildly apologetic.

He slams down his fork, losing his appetite and Jongin pushes his plate aside too, scraping his chair back and marching out of the kitchen.

Part 2