Dollhouse: 2/5
Author's Note: Update on chanbear's request. :)
Fei kept her pace with Junsu, now quiet with the thoughts going through his head. The dog stayed back at times and nudged at Junsu’s side, trying to get a hand out to pet him. It took a few tries, but Junsu’s hand finally pulled out to brush at its white hairs. Junsu settled for a moment and took the chance to talk. He wanted to break the awkward silence just as much as they did.
“Man…it’s hot…”
The dog’s tongue was dragging on the side of its mouth as the cowboy turned back to acknowledge that he heard. He saw the edge of Junsu’s head trailing with sweat and stopped, now worrying for his discomfort. Large bits of mulch and dirt shifted under his feet as he approached his creator. When he was in front of him, he furrowed his brows and untied his bandana, shaking out the knot at the back before unfolding it completely. Junsu was about to speak, but the cowboy tapped the edge of the cloth at Junsu’s forehead, wiping the sweat away.
“…uh...thank you. Thanks a lot.”
The cowboy’s eyes crinkled, much like any other person’s if they’d had a soft smile to push them up. He turned away from Junsu but Junsu grabbed at his shoulder, halting him.
“Wait. …I’m sorry I was rude earlier.” The cowboy nodded in agreement, shook out his bandana, and proceeded to fold it back up to put around his face again.
“I’m assuming you need a name, too…right?”
Another nod; another soft crinkle of his eyes.
“How about...Chansung? ….you keep being agreeable even though I’m being a bit of an ass. …thanks.”
Another nod; another soft crinkle of his eyes. Junsu gave him a soft smile back.
After seeing the exchange, the dog disappeared into shadow again, fading in and out of the brush until it approached a particularly gnarled patch. It turned its head to the three and then back to the patch. The cowboy went to it with a slight jog as Fei approached Junsu from the side.
“Junsu-“
“Can we please talk later?” His hands were up, as if in a small defeat, “…this is still a lot to take in. …please.”
He jogged a bit to catch up with the cowboy and the dog, hoping it’d found something of use. Fei almost looked hurt, but she followed. They had to get him back home. Chansung snapped his fingers toward a tangle, grabbing their attention before he hopped onto a connected branch in the patch. They were almost like stairs, leading toward the house at an upward angle before they attached to a line of vines growing up the side of the house.
Fei brushed past Junsu, about to hop on after Chansung and the dog, now shifting between shadow and solid form to get up the stacks.
“Fei, wait-“
Junsu reached out to hold her back, but his hand dipped into the recess in her arm. He looked sad again, mournful of what he was now thinking was his fault. She wouldn’t have been this way if it weren’t for him.
“Are you? …can you climb up like that? I mean, don’t you need help-“
“I’m fine.” It sounded stern, but she brought a smile back to her face. “Let’s just get you home. Okay? I’m fine.”
Fei was indeed alright, and climbed the bush and vines quickly. It was another reminder that Junsu wasn’t like she or Chansung were. He bled, he sweat, and he hurt…they didn’t.
They crawled and climbed their way up to a large window that sat facing west. It was cracked open, a habit his mother had whenever she wanted to get the summer breeze to enter the house. She was particular about it in her own bedroom, as he’d remembered when he was younger. It was cracked now, and a woman was laying on a bed as they peered into the room. They all ducked as she turned, but her eyes were closed, swollen and moist, probably from hours of crying. This was another moment Junsu felt hopeless in trying to calm or help the situation. If anything, he’d cause her a heart attack if she saw him in the state he was in.
Chansung was busy crawling to the ledge of the window, hooking his rope and sliding down. He beckoned Fei to follow and she slid down after him, landing in his arms and her dress floating as Junsu slid and landed on the floor next to them. Junsu straightened his absurd blue outfit as he watched them dust themselves off; only they didn’t dust themselves off. Chansung cleared a few bits of hair from her eyes with one hand, other arm nestling around her waist and setting her down gently. Fei softly straightened his bandana and fixed his collar lovingly. They let go of each other when they saw Junsu staring and looked at him curiously. Junsu sharply pulled at his onesie to straighten it out and walked toward the edge of one of the nightstands in the room.
“Come on. If we follow the edge of this wall, we’ll get back to my room sooner.”
He tried to shake off the unsure look on his face, but the two had seen it; that look of insecurity, of loss. Chansung went to shake down his rope and Fei’s annoyance continued. First he was mad, and then he was helpful. Then he was happy, and then he disregarded her. Now he couldn’t take his eyes off her before he hurried off angrily? Were all humans like this? This wasn’t the Junsu she…knew; the one she adored as much as he adored her.
They scuffled along the wall and ran into bits of dust, particles of dirt and a spider or two, but nothing that truly alarmed the three of them. Junsu just wanted to get home, back to his real size and out of this miniscule body in bad dressings. His feelings for the thing, the doll, Fei, whatever she would be called, were beyond confusing. He needed out and back to a world that he understood however tragic and unwanted he had felt in it. It was normal.
Junsu didn’t pay attention and sped ahead, coming out from behind the bed and nightstand and trying to cross a brightly lit hallway toward the stairs. The dog emerged from shadow and hid in the last bit of darkness before the stream of light that filled the hall. It began to whimper, but Junsu wasn’t paying attention, head spurned on getting back up to his room. Chansung snapped and caught Fei’s attention ahead of him, but Junsu kept going. His eyes widened and he pointed forward so that she could call, yell at him, anything to warn him. Chansung knew that if he tried to span the length of the hallway, he’d be caught, but he had to try to save at least one of them.
He grabbed hold of Fei and held her back in shadow while Junsu ran across the hall.
“No! Let me go! Please!”
Junsu heard her soft cries and turned around, stilling himself in the middle of the hall.
“Junsu, run!”
That’s when he heard the thud of footsteps, large and loud as they were about to round a corner by the end of the hall. At this point, Fei threw back her cracked elbow, hooking down Chansung’s hat and covering his eyes. She shoved him in the stomach and ran, trying to reach Junsu as quickly as possible. Junsu saw her coming out and yelled for her to stop, but she’d already come into the light, quick and agile and gently. She moved inhumanly fast, and came at him impossibly strong, knocking the wind out of him and shoving him into the edge of the next room before she fell limp. Junsu couldn’t get back up in time, his stomach feeling like it’d been hit by a glass bat, soft and hard all at once. He was keeling over and coughing, but trying to quiet himself and get back up, but to no avail.
The man that rounded the corner saw a toy doll sliding across the ground for a millisecond before it stopped across from the open door of his room. His footsteps quickened and he went to grab at it. His hand wrapped around the doll harshly.
“What kind of boy has a doll?”
He hurried into the room he and Junsu’s mother shared. The man, now recognized as Junsu’s father by his voice, began to bellow at his mother.
“Is this a sick fucking joke? Are you trying to mock me?”
The woman woke, startled and apologetic. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for until she saw the doll in his hand. She had no idea how it’d gotten there, merely that she was sorry it had. She was always sorry, but she’d never let Junsu see. She always loved Junsu no matter what he’d done, and she’d always loved his father no matter what he’d done.
Chansung and the dog hid as Junsu peered from the shadows of the other room. He saw the bruises that had swelled around his mother’s neck then, and the one beginning to swell on her collarbone. The shirt that was sliding off her shoulder was pulled back up before the man huffed and went deeper into the house, rushing up the stairs to his son’s room. There were noises of crashing, loud bangs and the like as his father continued to tear at his room. It was all he could assume was happening, and he didn’t know what else to do or how to do it.
He didn’t want to, but he could only assume the worst of what happened to Fei, and his heart slowly began to break again. Junsu found himself crying, chest heaving and shaking at what his man had done to his mother and what he had just done to his Fei.
Fei kept her pace with Junsu, now quiet with the thoughts going through his head. The dog stayed back at times and nudged at Junsu’s side, trying to get a hand out to pet him. It took a few tries, but Junsu’s hand finally pulled out to brush at its white hairs. Junsu settled for a moment and took the chance to talk. He wanted to break the awkward silence just as much as they did.
“Man…it’s hot…”
The dog’s tongue was dragging on the side of its mouth as the cowboy turned back to acknowledge that he heard. He saw the edge of Junsu’s head trailing with sweat and stopped, now worrying for his discomfort. Large bits of mulch and dirt shifted under his feet as he approached his creator. When he was in front of him, he furrowed his brows and untied his bandana, shaking out the knot at the back before unfolding it completely. Junsu was about to speak, but the cowboy tapped the edge of the cloth at Junsu’s forehead, wiping the sweat away.
“…uh...thank you. Thanks a lot.”
The cowboy’s eyes crinkled, much like any other person’s if they’d had a soft smile to push them up. He turned away from Junsu but Junsu grabbed at his shoulder, halting him.
“Wait. …I’m sorry I was rude earlier.” The cowboy nodded in agreement, shook out his bandana, and proceeded to fold it back up to put around his face again.
“I’m assuming you need a name, too…right?”
Another nod; another soft crinkle of his eyes.
“How about...Chansung? ….you keep being agreeable even though I’m being a bit of an ass. …thanks.”
Another nod; another soft crinkle of his eyes. Junsu gave him a soft smile back.
After seeing the exchange, the dog disappeared into shadow again, fading in and out of the brush until it approached a particularly gnarled patch. It turned its head to the three and then back to the patch. The cowboy went to it with a slight jog as Fei approached Junsu from the side.
“Junsu-“
“Can we please talk later?” His hands were up, as if in a small defeat, “…this is still a lot to take in. …please.”
He jogged a bit to catch up with the cowboy and the dog, hoping it’d found something of use. Fei almost looked hurt, but she followed. They had to get him back home. Chansung snapped his fingers toward a tangle, grabbing their attention before he hopped onto a connected branch in the patch. They were almost like stairs, leading toward the house at an upward angle before they attached to a line of vines growing up the side of the house.
Fei brushed past Junsu, about to hop on after Chansung and the dog, now shifting between shadow and solid form to get up the stacks.
“Fei, wait-“
Junsu reached out to hold her back, but his hand dipped into the recess in her arm. He looked sad again, mournful of what he was now thinking was his fault. She wouldn’t have been this way if it weren’t for him.
“Are you? …can you climb up like that? I mean, don’t you need help-“
“I’m fine.” It sounded stern, but she brought a smile back to her face. “Let’s just get you home. Okay? I’m fine.”
Fei was indeed alright, and climbed the bush and vines quickly. It was another reminder that Junsu wasn’t like she or Chansung were. He bled, he sweat, and he hurt…they didn’t.
They crawled and climbed their way up to a large window that sat facing west. It was cracked open, a habit his mother had whenever she wanted to get the summer breeze to enter the house. She was particular about it in her own bedroom, as he’d remembered when he was younger. It was cracked now, and a woman was laying on a bed as they peered into the room. They all ducked as she turned, but her eyes were closed, swollen and moist, probably from hours of crying. This was another moment Junsu felt hopeless in trying to calm or help the situation. If anything, he’d cause her a heart attack if she saw him in the state he was in.
Chansung was busy crawling to the ledge of the window, hooking his rope and sliding down. He beckoned Fei to follow and she slid down after him, landing in his arms and her dress floating as Junsu slid and landed on the floor next to them. Junsu straightened his absurd blue outfit as he watched them dust themselves off; only they didn’t dust themselves off. Chansung cleared a few bits of hair from her eyes with one hand, other arm nestling around her waist and setting her down gently. Fei softly straightened his bandana and fixed his collar lovingly. They let go of each other when they saw Junsu staring and looked at him curiously. Junsu sharply pulled at his onesie to straighten it out and walked toward the edge of one of the nightstands in the room.
“Come on. If we follow the edge of this wall, we’ll get back to my room sooner.”
He tried to shake off the unsure look on his face, but the two had seen it; that look of insecurity, of loss. Chansung went to shake down his rope and Fei’s annoyance continued. First he was mad, and then he was helpful. Then he was happy, and then he disregarded her. Now he couldn’t take his eyes off her before he hurried off angrily? Were all humans like this? This wasn’t the Junsu she…knew; the one she adored as much as he adored her.
They scuffled along the wall and ran into bits of dust, particles of dirt and a spider or two, but nothing that truly alarmed the three of them. Junsu just wanted to get home, back to his real size and out of this miniscule body in bad dressings. His feelings for the thing, the doll, Fei, whatever she would be called, were beyond confusing. He needed out and back to a world that he understood however tragic and unwanted he had felt in it. It was normal.
Junsu didn’t pay attention and sped ahead, coming out from behind the bed and nightstand and trying to cross a brightly lit hallway toward the stairs. The dog emerged from shadow and hid in the last bit of darkness before the stream of light that filled the hall. It began to whimper, but Junsu wasn’t paying attention, head spurned on getting back up to his room. Chansung snapped and caught Fei’s attention ahead of him, but Junsu kept going. His eyes widened and he pointed forward so that she could call, yell at him, anything to warn him. Chansung knew that if he tried to span the length of the hallway, he’d be caught, but he had to try to save at least one of them.
He grabbed hold of Fei and held her back in shadow while Junsu ran across the hall.
“No! Let me go! Please!”
Junsu heard her soft cries and turned around, stilling himself in the middle of the hall.
“Junsu, run!”
That’s when he heard the thud of footsteps, large and loud as they were about to round a corner by the end of the hall. At this point, Fei threw back her cracked elbow, hooking down Chansung’s hat and covering his eyes. She shoved him in the stomach and ran, trying to reach Junsu as quickly as possible. Junsu saw her coming out and yelled for her to stop, but she’d already come into the light, quick and agile and gently. She moved inhumanly fast, and came at him impossibly strong, knocking the wind out of him and shoving him into the edge of the next room before she fell limp. Junsu couldn’t get back up in time, his stomach feeling like it’d been hit by a glass bat, soft and hard all at once. He was keeling over and coughing, but trying to quiet himself and get back up, but to no avail.
The man that rounded the corner saw a toy doll sliding across the ground for a millisecond before it stopped across from the open door of his room. His footsteps quickened and he went to grab at it. His hand wrapped around the doll harshly.
“What kind of boy has a doll?”
He hurried into the room he and Junsu’s mother shared. The man, now recognized as Junsu’s father by his voice, began to bellow at his mother.
“Is this a sick fucking joke? Are you trying to mock me?”
The woman woke, startled and apologetic. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for until she saw the doll in his hand. She had no idea how it’d gotten there, merely that she was sorry it had. She was always sorry, but she’d never let Junsu see. She always loved Junsu no matter what he’d done, and she’d always loved his father no matter what he’d done.
Chansung and the dog hid as Junsu peered from the shadows of the other room. He saw the bruises that had swelled around his mother’s neck then, and the one beginning to swell on her collarbone. The shirt that was sliding off her shoulder was pulled back up before the man huffed and went deeper into the house, rushing up the stairs to his son’s room. There were noises of crashing, loud bangs and the like as his father continued to tear at his room. It was all he could assume was happening, and he didn’t know what else to do or how to do it.
He didn’t want to, but he could only assume the worst of what happened to Fei, and his heart slowly began to break again. Junsu found himself crying, chest heaving and shaking at what his man had done to his mother and what he had just done to his Fei.