Fic: Facets, Chapter 11
Image by rainysakura. Thank you so much <3
Title: Facets, Chapter 11
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yunho
Rating: R-ish
Summary: AU fic! Yunho struggles with his feelings for Jaejoong, and wakes up in an alternate reality where he...also meets Jaejoong. Except this Jaejoong is quite different from the one he knows. Also involves secrets and grappling with the truth
THE END. Yes, the final chapter, I can't believe it's all done now. THANK YOU SO MUCH for staying throughout the whole thing, and for all your wonderful comments which have been the best encouragement I could have asked for. It'll be mostly one shots for a while now, because chaptered fics are insanely draining, but still, THANK YOU, LOVES <3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
The back of his head is throbbing painfully when he manages to get his eyes open, sound rushing back in as he sits up. Bars. A cell. Youngwoong’s not unfamiliar with cells, except the only thing he can register now is Yunho, Yunho and that blank, blank stare, Yunho who isn’t here-
“Let me out!” His voice is hoarse, throat dry as sandpaper, “let me out, please-”
“Shut up, you”, the warden by his cell is saying, baton raised threateningly, when Youngwoong hears the second voice, just out of sight. “No- no, it’s okay, I have to talk to him-”
It’s Dr. Shim and Youngwoong could have wept with relief. “Doctor- Doctor, you have to help him-”
Changmin’s brow is creased with worry when he stops in front of Youngwoong’s cell. “I’m not that kind of doctor, I’m afraid.” His gaze turns hard, suddenly, flinty cold. “We found this-” and Youngwoong recognizes the small vial immediately, “-in the room. Does this belong to you?”
“It’s not what it looks like. I wasn’t going to- I never-”
Changmin sighs. “I know that, too. Even if I had to come and confirm it for myself.” He opens his other hand to reveal a small square of paper. “We found this in Yunho’s hand. From the look of the creases I don’t think he got around to reading it before it…happened.”
“There was a man.” Youngwoong shakes his head, hard, to clear it. “The man who wouldn’t leave me alone at the gala. He did this to Yunho, that bastard-”
“Him.” Changmin’s eyes narrow. “If only we knew who he works for- You. They sent you, too. Who’s behind this?”
“I…don’t know.” Youngwoong can feel his hands clenching involuntarily into fists. He loathes this, this helplessness, this speculation, this clutching at straws, when all he really wants is to hurt those who’d dared to do this to Yunho. “Yehsung. I report to Yehsung. But he’s…gone now. I don’t know where he is, and-”
“We’ll find out. Somehow.” Changmin exhales heavily, runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t get you out yet, but- Yes, I should go.”
“You’ll help him.” It isn’t a question, and Youngwoong’s sudden grip on his wrist is firm, uncompromising, nails digging slightly into flesh.
Changmin nods. “I will.”
---
Surely it’s only been hours, but it feels like days, months; endless, infinite years that he spends on the hard wood of the pallet, splinters digging cruelly into his back, replaying different scenarios, different endings in the theatre of his mind. I should have features most prominently among them, I should have I should have I should have, and Youngwoong wonders bitterly if this is atonement, punishment and retribution all rolled up into one, the toll for all the lives he’s so callously dispatched of over the years. He thinks of sin, of scales, of judgment; wonders if this means he’s condemned Yunho for good; has to sink his teeth into his skin to keep from crying out. No, between his harshly exhaled breaths, and I’m sorry, except they’ll never be enough, not now, never be enough to save Yunho-
He jerks upright the same instant he hears the shouts, the screams, the all too familiar sound of bullets spraying into bodies, into walls. There are crashes, and then a great rush of sound, of air, that lifts him off his feet and slams him back into the wall, momentarily robbing him of sight. When the dust clears he notes, hazily, that the bars of his cell are gone, now, that he’s surrounded in rubble, in chunks of plaster, and that it’s Yehsung there in the gaping hole where the wall used to be. He should run, he knows, except he feels too dazed, his limbs too numb.
Yehsung’s grip on his arm is rough, ungentle. “Youngwoong, Youngwoong, Youngwoong. Didn’t I tell you to run?”
Youngwoong contemplates struggling; decides against it. “Where’re we going?”
Yehsung laughs. “Oh, somewhere fun.”
---
“It’s an inducer of sorts. I think it put him under, made him go into a hypnotic state so he’d be susceptible to all sorts of suggestions”, Changmin is saying, frown in place, when Yunho blinks, moves. “I-”
“Wait- wait, look”, and then Micky is clutching at Changmin’s arm, “he’s waking up-”
“Yunho.” They approach the other man cautiously, the guards around the bed expanding their circle to give them room. “Yunho, are you okay?”
Yunho shakes his head, and Changmin frowns again when his speech comes out slurred. “Shares…I have shares to transfer.”
Changmin’s gaze is sharp now, wary. “Shares? What shares? You don’t have any shares, remember?”
“What-” Micky begins, then falls silent when Changmin holds out a hand to stop him.
“You told me about you”, Changmin is saying now, insistent. “You don’t have any shares, Yunho. You’re a singer. You have a band. Dong Bang Shin Ki, remember?”
Micky’s expression would be priceless, under different circumstances. “What in the world are you babbling on about?”
“Shares”, Yunho repeats urgently, hands rising and then falling again. “Jungtech shares. And Youngwoong…I’m supposed to get rid of Youngwoong-” He is rising then, movements jerky, and Changmin steps back, makes his decision.
“Restrain him, quick- It must be some sort of reaction to the botched hypnotism- Youngwoong probably interrupted it when he came, and- Hold him down, I said!”
Micky’s gaze is worried when Changmin lifts the small vial, uncaps it. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Changmin.”
“We don’t have a choice. What if they’d asked him to kill himself, after he’s done doing everything else? He would do it, if only because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, I-” Changmin pauses, glances imploringly at Micky. “You understand, don’t you?”
Micky smiles slightly before squeezing the younger man’s shoulder reassuringly. “I do. Go for it.”
Changmin nods grimly before taking a deep breath and advancing. Yunho is still struggling and bucking on the sheets when he approaches, the combined effort of four guards necessary to keep him from breaking free. Changmin swallows the sour taste of fear in his mouth before leaning over and holding the vial to Yunho’s lips.
“Drink-” and Yunho struggles, causes him to spill some of the liquid over the man’s jaw, “drink-” and it’s either drink or choke, the only two choices afforded to him, and Changmin holds his breath as he watches Yunho’s throat work, as he swallows. Almost immediately his struggles cease, and Changmin reminds himself to breathe as the guards pull him upright, as they start backing away.
“Yunho”, he tries, so soft he isn’t sure if the other man can hear. “Jung Yunho.”
Yunho’s eyes are glazed again, carefully blank, expression reminiscent to that on his face when they’d first found him. Damnit, if only he’d bothered to read up on anything at all to do with the subconscious mind-
Now or never, he decides, sends a brief prayer up to the ceiling before moving in. “Yunho. When I tell you to wake up you’ll forget every previous command that was given to you. Do you understand? You will forget.”
Changmin moves away, grateful when Micky comes over to stand next to him. “Wake up, Yunho.”
Nothing, at first, and Changmin can only watch on in horror, I killed him, he thinks incoherently, I killed him oh god oh god oh god, when Yunho blinks again, shakes his head, only this time there is no awkwardness to his movements, no latent dullness in his gaze when he looks up, only slightly dazed confusion.
“…Changmin?”
“Yunho-” and Yunho barely has time to blink again before Changmin’s arms are around him, squeezing tight, tight, tight, “Yunho, thank goodness-”
“I-” Yunho clears his throat, pushes the other man away gently. “What’s going on?” It takes him a moment to register the ring of armed guns, stern and forbidding, and his eyes widen again. “Did something happen?”
Changmin shakes his head. “You really don’t remember?”
Yunho frowns. “I remember drinking something…and then nothing, and-”
“Hold on”, Changmin smiles apologetically before fumbling his blaring phone out of his pocket. “Hello?”
“Glad to see you’re okay, Mr. Jung”, Micky is saying, when Changmin stills, voice going quiet. “Yes. Yes, he’s fine. Yes, thank you.”
Changmin’s face is slightly paler when he turns back to them. “There’s been a breakout at the jail. They blew half of it apart, and apparently they took Youngwoong.”
Youngwoong- in jail- why- But there’s no time, he thinks, no time, as he latches onto Changmin’s arm. “Youngwoong. You said Youngwoong. Who took Youngwoong?”
Changmin sighs. “The people who tried to kill you. They left a note and said they’d be going near the old mine, and if you don’t show up…”
Yunho doesn’t have to hear the rest, knows it in the sudden ice in his blood, in the way his breath catches painfully in his lungs. “Youngwoong-” and he’s already on his feet when Changmin moves to block his way.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“I’ll take them-” Yunho gestures vaguely at the armed circle, “and you can- you can send me backup later, or something- I have to go, Changmin.”
Changmin’s gaze is hard, searching, before he sighs slightly and shakes his head. “If you must. Just…be careful.”
“I will”, Yunho smiles briefly before he’s out the door, the captain of the guard and the rest of the company on his heels. Changmin sighs again before settling on the bed, phone in hand, Micky coming to rest beside him.
“What are you doing now?”
Changmin’s lips are thinly compressed as he dials, fingers punching in numbers furiously. “Ending this.”
---
The trees are stark and bare and skeletal against the dark sky, and Youngwoong stumbles slightly on the gravel underfoot when Yehsung herds him out of the car. “Move”, he barks, and Youngwoong does, knife blade digging into the base of his spine.
“You know”, laughing lightly, “if I didn’t know better I’d be wondering why you chose to bring me somewhere this secluded.”
“Shut up”, Yehsung tosses back coolly; digs the blade in just a little bit harder. Yehsung snarls when Youngwoong stumbles forward another step, just out of range, spins so they’re now face to face. Youngwoong’s face is flushed as he advances, closer and closer and closer, until the tip of the blade is resting against the side of his hip.
“There’s no need for that between us, is there, Yehsung?”
“Traitor”, Yehsung hisses when Youngwoong smirks, when he bends to kiss a trail up the side of Yehsung’s neck, hands catching at his arms when Yehsung makes to push him away.
“Momentary lapse of judgment”, Youngwoong croons softly, fingers teasing the hilt of the knife out of Yehsung’s hand. “Jung Yunho is really delectable, after all.”
“Whore”, Yehsung manages, shudders when Youngwoong nips with his teeth.
“Your whore, back then”, Youngwoong whispers, and Yehsung’s eyes fly open when he is shoved, when there is lancing pain up his side, when Youngwoong drops to kick his feet out from under him.
“Bastard-” when his fingers come up red, sticky, when Youngwoong drops the knife, eyes wide. “Bastard”, his hands already fumbling at his pocket for the gun, breathing shallow and harsh, more out of fury than any real pain.
“I’m sorry”, Youngwoong says, knows he has to go, and now, except he’s known Yehsung all his life, except he’s never meant to hurt him, “I’m sorry”; turns on his heel and runs.
---
“Slow down- Damnit, Changmin, where are you going?”
Micky is out of breath when he finally catches up to the other man. This place is a positive maze- It’s amazing how Jung Yunho can even find his way around- He pauses in his disgruntled muttering when he sees what Changmin is holding up to the light.
“A photo?”
“A photo”, Changmin agrees, fumbles it out of the frame. It’s Jung Yunho, only a Jung Yunho from at least five years before, Jung Yunho in a shirt and baggy jeans and his arm slung familiarly about a shorter boy’s waist, a boy pretty enough to pass off as a girl and smiling adoringly up at him. “It’s him”, Changmin is saying. “The man who was harassing Youngwoong at the gala. I knew I’d seen him somewhere before.”
Yunho and Heechul, the back of the photograph says in rounded script in the bottom right hand corner, and Micky takes it from Changmin, turns it back around. “Heechul”, he says musingly.
“Heechul.” Changmin frowns again before his eyes light up. “Heechul, Heechul- yes, Heechul-”
“Wait”, Micky groans as Changmin starts running again, long legs carrying him swiftly down the corridor. “Damnit, Changmin-”
Micky finds him back in Yunho’s bedroom, laptop in hand, fingers typing feverishly. “I found him”, Changmin crows triumphantly when he enters, scowls briefly when Micky merely raises an eyebrow.
“I found Heechul.”
---
Yunho ignores the fingers plucking at his sleeve, the captain’s insistent cries of “Sir, you can’t go in without us- sir-”
“Youngwoong!” Leaves and dead branches crackling underfoot as he runs, as he shouts himself hoarse. “Youngwoong!”
He thinks he hears a faint cry to the left and sprints towards it, blood pounding in his ears. “Youngwoong! Youngwoong!”
“Yunho-” and then Youngwoong is there, eyes wild, hair in disarray, but still beautiful, beautiful and safe and here, as Yunho sweeps him up into his arms. “I’m sorry”, Youngwoong is saying into his shoulder, over and over and over, “I’m sorry”, although Yunho isn’t sure for what, only that he can breathe now, with Youngwoong safe-
“They’re coming”, and Yunho barely registers the sharp crack of gunshots off to their left, and then they’re running, hands clasped, running away from the shouts and trampling footsteps and deeper and deeper into the stand of trees.
Yunho stumbles and almost falls when he feels a distinct pull on his left leg; drops to his knees to prevent landing on his face. Youngwoong stops and sinks next to him. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I-” It’s strange, he thinks, when he draws the coin out of his pocket, the way it glows faintly, the way it’s slightly warm to the touch, the way it seems to pull in one direction, as if drawn by a gigantic magnet. Resonance, the word swimming sluggishly into the forefront of his mind, resonance, and Yunho staggers to his feet when he hears the shouts, much closer this time.
“Come on-” and they’re off again, only this time Yunho has a destination, the coin in his hand tugging him insistently on a northeasterly course.
“What-” Youngwoong manages to pant, brushes his hair irritably out of his eyes. “What is that?”
“I don’t know.” Yunho admits. “This-” he pauses, barrels ahead. “This is going to sound crazy, but I- I’m not from here.” He tries again, when Youngwoong merely gapes at him. “I’m not this Jung Yunho, I came from another world, and there’s no time to explain, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I-”
They both skid to a halt at the lip of the pit, the dark hole yawning before their feet. The coin is almost pulsing in his hand, now, and Yunho shudders slightly, bites at his lip. Rent by the old mine, Changmin’s voice this time, wouldn’t suggest going through with it, except there’s no more time, they’re almost here, and it’s either this, or-
“We’re going to have to jump”, he tries for nonchalance; almost laughs out loud when Youngwoong turns to stare incredulously at him.
“What?”
“Do you trust me?” Yunho waits, squeezes Youngwoong’s hand, tries to ignore the shouts coming even closer.
Youngwoong laughs, nervous, amused. “Do I have a choice?”
Yunho does laugh, this time; bends down to kiss Youngwoong full on the lips, hard. “On three”, and Youngwoong nods.
“One, two, three-”
---
Micky marvels at how the man can still manage to look like that, half naked and surrounded by armed military, lip curled derisively and still managing to look coldly imposing. “What is the meaning of this?”
“What this means-” Micky pauses to savour this, to cross his arms over his chest, “is that we know, Mr. Choi Siwon.”
Siwon snorts, mimics the gesture, leans back onto his pillows. “Oh? You’ll all be hearing from my lawyers tomorrow, believe me.”
“Oh, you’ll be in need of legal advice soon enough. We have enough evidence to show that one Kim Heechul was directly involved in the attempted poisoning of Mr. Jung Yunho. And that he was in your employ.”
Siwon’s face doesn’t change. “You can’t prove anything.”
“Oh, but we can. Fingerprints, things like that.” Micky shrugs and advances, cell phone held out. “Call off your men. Now.”
“And if I don’t?” Siwon pauses when the nearest guard makes to move and hefts his weapon meaningfully. “I see.”
Micky allows himself the barest hint of a smile. “Game over.”
---
There is darkness when he opens his eyes -if he even has eyes, in a place like this- but not all consuming, he realizes soon enough, an expanse of minute, glittering lights piercing the blackness all around them. He feels weightless, lighter than air, suspended, when suddenly there is motion, like being swept up in a current. He can feel Yunho next to him, Yunho’s grip on him strong, firm, and it’s Yunho he’s being carried along with, Yunho who’s drawn inexorably, like a moth to flame, towards one particular flashing light; a window, he sees now, growing larger and larger and larger.
It’s only then that he remembers. Another world, Yunho had said, only that world contains Jaejoong, Yunho’s Jaejoong, and there’s no place for a Youngwoong there-
Let go, he tries to say, and struggles briefly when Yunho latches on more firmly. Let go, harder this time, and he can feel the tenuous link begin to snap. The current releases him, and he watches as Yunho is drawn away. Goodbye, he tries to say, before something else catches hold of him; spirals him away in the other direction.
Yunho, he thinks, repeats it to himself as the light fills his vision, so bright he has to close his eyes -except he has no eyes, in this place, no eyes- Yunho Yunho Yunho-
---
Changmin’s head jerks up when he hears the thump, when he hears the muffled curse. He moves quietly, ghosts along the corridor, slips into the room.
It’s Yunho, only a Yunho wearing nothing more than a strange loincloth and a remarkably bizarre headdress of feathers and shells, a Yunho who’s already wrenching the ridiculous thing off his head.
“Changmin!” And Changmin startles, backs up a step. Yunho glares balefully. “Don’t just stand there, man, fetch me Junhwan or something.”
“Where-” Changmin clears his throat. “Where have you been?”
“How in hell should I know? I woke up and there were all these people with painted faces and none of them spoke a word of English or Japanese of Korean-” Yunho pauses to glare again. “Are you just going to stand there goggling or are you going to fetch me my staff so I can have a proper bath? And who’s been running the place while I’ve been gone?”
Changmin can feel himself relaxing, can feel the smile slipping easily back into place. Their Jung Yunho, all right, and no doubt about it. Which can only mean one thing.
“I’m glad you’re back”, Changmin says. “Sir”, he adds as an afterthought, smile teasing; laughs and dances out of the way when Yunho flings the discarded headdress at him.
Perhaps it’s all been put to rights, now.
---
There is warmth and sunlight when he opens his eyes, gauzy white curtains fluttering in the light breeze. He can see the sky from the open window, blue on blue on blue, thinks he can hear the sound of the ocean.
He sits up when the door opens, when Yunho enters. It’s only when he comes closer that he realizes it’s a different Yunho. This Yunho is older, face more careworn, until he smiles, eyes lighting up, until he moves to cup Youngwoong’s cheek, and then they are the same, the same, the same. His hand is large and callused, and Youngwoong lets him, when Yunho bends to kiss him, long and drawn out and fraught with the familiarity of days and months and years.
“I’m glad you came back”, Yunho is murmuring against his mouth. Oh, Youngwoong thinks hazily, glad he hasn’t stolen this from someone else. Mine, he thinks in wonder, fingers reaching out to brush over the planes of Yunho’s face, mine; doesn’t realize he’s spoken out loud until Yunho laughs.
“Yours”, Yunho agrees; kisses him again.
---
His cheek is still stinging from the impact of landing face first on hard ground when he opens his eyes, when he stands and comes face to face with an extremely familiar wooden door.
He takes a deep breath before pushing down on the buzzer; waits until the voice crackles across the intercom. “Who is it?”
“It’s me”, he manages, heart in his throat, hears a loud cry come over the line. “I-”
He doesn’t have time to even finish the thought when the door is flung open, when hands drag him bodily into the apartment and start running over him from head to shoulder to chest, patting and prodding and checking. “He’s okay, right?” Yoochun is saying, Changmin nodding vigorously, not pausing once in his examination of his hyung, and he can see Junsu craning his head to see over Changmin’s shoulder. “I-” Yunho tries again, stops short when Jaejoong barrels into him.
“Yunho-ah- Oh god where have you been for the past two weeks-”
Two weeks? He hadn’t been away for two weeks- He flinches and stumbles back a step when Jaejoong hits him, when Jaejoong starts raining punches on his chest, on his arm.
“You bastard- how dare you just go like that, do you know how worried we were-”
“Hyung!” Changmin is saying, eyes wide, alarmed, and Yunho laughs as he catches at Jaejoong’s wrists, Jaejoong hissing and spitting like a wildcat and glaring up at him through his hair.
“I’m sorry-” He manages; does the only thing he can think of when Jaejoong doesn’t look in the least mollified. They are both breathless when he finally pulls away, Jaejoong’s hands now tangled in his hair, Yoochun whistling his encouragement behind them.
“-for waiting until now to do that.” Yunho finishes, watches as Jaejoong’s face softens.
“Idiot”, Jaejoong says, and Yunho laughs again, moves to draw him closer.
“I can live with that.”
“Euw, not in front of the children”, Changmin admonishes; laughs when Jaejoong attempts to throw a shoe at him.
Home, he thinks when it turns into an all out brawl, when Junsu pulls Yoochun into the mix just for the fun of it, I'm home.