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atinytokki · 2 years

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 11: Call to Action

The sun was a few hours off from sinking, and reflected brightly off the water when Eden glanced outside to starboard.

Maddox hadn’t spoken to him aside from the bare minimum needed for orders in the past few days.

Eden knew he was processing everything as well as he could— reuniting the crew, Hongjoong being alive, supernatural occurrences— but still he sought him out when he felt the air had grown too tense and gave his quartermaster an outlet to take things out on.

“The wind is with us today,” he remarked casually, sneaking up on Maddox where he stood at the railing and watched the ship’s wake flow continuously alongside them.

“A good sign,” Maddox agreed, eyes still fixed below. When one too many moments of silence passed by, he finally turned to look at his captain. “Did you come to give orders?”

Eden shook his head and let Maddox slowly realise he had come just to talk.

“Strange, isn’t it?” The quartermaster finally said, restless. “Look at us. In our prime and sidelined from the fight for our existence.”

“It feels familiar,” Eden acknowledged. “I don’t like it.”

After all, he had been useless on the Mystic’s island for months, and self-isolated in the east for even longer. It was time for that to change.

“This isn’t like it was back then,” Maddox sighed, searching his face before explaining. “The pirate islands are more than unified, they’re fervently preparing for battle. Sure, they rallied around you before. But this…”

“Hongjoong renewed that hope?” Eden finished for him, no hesitation colouring his voice. He knew what his former apprentice was capable of.

Maddox nodded and a fond smile was on his face. “They’ll be singing anthems for him. His whole crew, really. They’re survivors, all of them.”

Eden had only met them for a short time what felt like ages ago now, but they had the same drive that connected them even then. It made sense that they had found each other.

Sometimes, when he thought of Hongjoong he thought of the orphan on the beach, a hollowed out husk who had thought there was nothing left for him in life.

It was hard to imagine a person he’d seen grow firsthand becoming a symbol practically overnight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let the world know he was alive sooner,” Eden confessed, slowly and heavily as the implications washed over him. “We need to find him.”

“No,” Maddox cut him off, and it stunned him for a moment, but he let the quartermaster go on. “His crew needs to find him. They will settle for nothing less. I’ve felt their pain and, at the same time, it surpasses me. They have a connection so deep I can hardly understand it, Eden. One closer and stronger than ours.”

The captain wanted to protest, but he knew Maddox was right. “We split up because we didn’t feel like a crew anymore,” he tried to explain for his quartermaster. “With Hongjoong gone, I thought I had failed. And even when I heard news of a Pirate King… I realised that you were right all along. By taking him under my wing, I both saved him and ruined him.”

Everyone had known the Dread Pirate had been in a dark place ever since the fire ship ambush, but Maddox had missed his final abandonment of the Stardust crew when he was imprisoned on that island by the Navy.

“I knew you were alive, thanks to Youngsaeng’s letters,” Maddox recounted, cold eyes accusing him. “But I was left behind, Eden. I don’t like being left behind.”

The truth was trickling out bit by bit, like sand grains poured out of a bottle.

“I want it to be like it used to,” he continued, gaze on the western horizon where the sun was nearing the water. “When we had Hongjoong with us.”

Eden had felt the same way when he encountered the ATEEZ. Hongjoong wasn’t a boy anymore, but it had been strange to be under his authority instead of the reverse. He’d been through so much, more than he had the last time Eden saw him, and every moment of loneliness, every scar sustained between those meetings had a profound impact on who he was now.

Eden knew he needed to speak with him again, whether Hongjoong wanted him or not.

“He has his own crew now,” he reminded Maddox. “I don’t like being left behind either, but we can still be there for him. Just maybe from the sidelines this time.”

He would make it up to him. He would make it up to his whole crew on the ATEEZ, as well as his own. His absence had brought them about, it was only right that he respond to their bravery the way that dozens of captains had decided to on Geobugi; by being present.

As if in answer, the shrill call of a hawk approaching from the southeast reached their ears.

“A messenger bird!” Youngsaeng called, collecting the hawk when it swooped toward him in the rigging and landed gently on his arm.

It carried a message from the ATEEZ, and Eden hurried to read it.

Quickly skimming the page, he interpreted the coded instructions and turned to report them to his crew.

“They’ve run into trouble,” he said simply. The nature of that trouble was unclear, but they had made a promise and it was time to keep it.

“Change our course, we’re going to Ama.”

___

“So how do we get to Ama, exactly?”

Yunho kept protective arms over the charts as he sat in the longboat, bobbing gently up and down with the waves as they worked along side the hull of the ATEEZ.

He motioned to the map in response to Jongho’s question and replied, “I’m hoping this will tell me, given all the trouble we went through to get it.”

“Pass me three gripfast nails,” Seonghwa interrupted, holding out a hand expectantly and keeping the other one in place where he’d positioned a plank to take the place of a damaged one.

Mingi’s sailing in the currents had done a number on their hull.

“Which ones are those?” Jongho asked, flustered, as he pawed through the piles of supplies they’d brought in the boat with them.

“No, use ringshanks! They’ll hold better!” San called down from the main deck, where he was walking around the ship with Mingi, trying to readjust his leg to the motion.

“Why don’t you come down here and do it yourself, then?” Seonghwa whined, loud enough to be heard on the deck but not really expecting a response.

“I happen to be occupied at the moment!” San shot back before his head disappeared and he resumed his stroll with Mingi.

“I don’t know what a ringshank is either,” Jongho deadpanned, moving out of the way when Seonghwa simply reached over and grabbed the nail San had suggested.

“Does anyone have the slightest idea how to set a course for such a tiny island without missing it?” Yunho sighed as he looked up at his two longboat companions, both of them blank-faced.

It seemed everyone was trying to do everyone else’s job, and all their hands were full.

Not for the first time, Yunho wished they had their missing members. He would have to apply himself in order to get the ATEEZ to its destination, and hopefully find them soon enough.

“No, but Mingi might,” Jongho pointed out. “Didn’t he do some navigation work with Hongjoong before Yeosang came on?”

“Mingi needs to heal, let him rest,” Seonghwa scolded quietly from where he drilled boards into place methodically, focused on his work even as he listened to the conversation around him. “I can take a look if I must. Yeosang showed me his charts a few times.”

Desperate for help of any kind, and always at ease when Seonghwa was guiding him, whether it was his area of expertise or not, Yunho gladly scooted over on the bench and braced for the boat to rock as his hyung stood from the bow and moved to where he held maps.

“Patch this up, will you?” Seonghwa requested, handing Jongho the hammer and nails as he passed him.

“Right,” Jongho smacked his lips before turning to the hull and trying to figure out how best to continue fastening the planks on effectively.

“I believe this is where we are,” Yunho updated the boatswain quickly, pointing to the surrounding atoll and then to the plot on the map. “In terms of time, that’s two days off or thereabouts from Ama. But any deviation even a point to one direction could send us wildly off course, even with the stars to follow.”

He pulled the star map out next, letting Seonghwa take a good look and shifting it to the side when he nodded.

“It’s a bit more difficult to correctly aim for such a small place on the map when all we’ve had to do thus far is head due south.”

“How did you manage to get from the mystic’s island to Namhae?” Seonghwa asked, setting the charts side by side.

“We argued about it,” Yunho summarised with a snort. “And then we prayed and hung on while the storm blowed us towards the island. It’s like Hongjoong always says—”

Seonghwa swallowed and looked away.

“Well, said ,” Yunho corrected. “Sometimes the ocean wants us to get somewhere, and sometimes it doesn’t.”

“And when San left the inn at Namhae without any charts, stole a boat, and escaped the Navy?” Seonghwa pointed out. “How did he manage that?”

“He kept the coast in view the whole time,” Jongho supplied as he drove a nail into the plank with relative ease in one powerful stroke. “And he sailed too far south, in fact. Right into Haemin territory.”

“Do I hear someone slandering me down there?” San’s voice called, and again he poked his head over the rail and looked down at them, Mingi mirroring him.

Seonghwa changed the topic quickly as soon as he saw the quartermaster.

“Oh, Mingi! You’re good at arithmetic,” he pointed out, standing with the charts and tucking them under his arm so he could climb up to the deck. “Would you mind helping with some calculations? Otherwise we might end up missing the island entirely.”

Yunho watched him go, relieved, and then simply sat back and folded his arms. The burden of navigation was off his shoulders for now.

The call of a seabird disturbed his peace when he let his eyes drift shut as the boat rocked gently.

It landed on the water some distance away and Yunho watched it dive below the waves and come back up swiftly, something in its beak.

“There’s a school of fish over there,” he remarked dully to a distracted Jongho, still pounding away at the hull of the ATEEZ.

Yunho’s suspicions were confirmed when another pair of birds dived in and caught fish for themselves. The flock was growing and Yunho continued to watch with mild interest as the ecosystem of this particular lagoon was on display.

“Bad news,” said Jongho succinctly after sticking his head underwater to check the lower damage. “There’s a cut below the waterline. It may be leaking into the crew compartment, I don’t know.”

“I think they would’ve come complaining if it was,” Yunho snorted. “Hongjoong’s failsafe layer must’ve worked.”

Just like Seonghwa, Jongho pursed his lips and avoided Yunho’s gaze at the mention of their captain.

Yunho had no chance to insist to them both that it was fine to mention Hongjoong’s name, that acting like he never existed was only serving to hurt them all more. Jongho charged ahead and started explaining, “We can fother a sail over it, which may or may not work and will certainly take up time. Or I can swim down and patch it up myself, which, considering the fact that I can breathe underwater, wouldn’t waste resources and wouldn’t be too difficult.”

Yunho sighed through his nose at Jongho’s textbook method of deflecting his emotions with rational observation, the way he always did, but considered the idea nonetheless.

The flock of birds attacking unseen fish had increased in size and the entire cluster was floating their direction.

“Seonghwa won’t approve,” came the obvious objection. “It’s turned into a full-blown feeding frenzy over there. There might be sharks.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Jongho smirked, and the smile was such a brief flash of the mischievous boy Yunho remembered from before that he couldn’t bring himself to protest further.

Yunho just wanted to see him happy again.

If they weren’t being attacked with sea creatures and enemies, they were tearing themselves apart on the inside.

“Alright, be careful,” Yunho gave his permission officially, knowing Jongho didn’t need it and might have gone ahead regardless.

Without another word, Jongho pocketed a fistful of nails and dived below the waves, board in hand.

Now Yunho was alone to watch anxiously from the boat and wait for the job to be done. The flock of gulls was steadily advancing on their longboat’s position, and he could now see the dark mass under the waves, undoubtedly a school of fish being picked off one by one.

“Jongho, hurry,” he muttered, knowing the master-at-arms wouldn’t respond anyway.

Yunho was leaning over the edge of the boat to see, tipping it accidentally and then jerking back to avoid falling in, and his straw hat fell off and disappeared below the waves. Unfortunately, unlike Jongho, Yunho did not have the supernatural ability to breathe underwater.

A moment later, the hat shot up from the water and was tossed toward the longboat. Yunho caught it and turned to see Jongho surface and climb into the boat again, rocking it a bit too much for comfort.

“Are you alright?” Yunho asked quickly, checking for any sign of injury, whether a breathing issue, collision with the boat, or animal attack.

“Fine,” Jongho waved off his helping hand. “You’re starting to sound like Seonghwa.”

“You know he’ll blame himself if anything happens to us,” reminded Yunho gently as he packed the supplies away. “Clearly he hasn’t stopped shouldering responsibility for everything since Hongjoong—”

“I see what you mean,” Jongho confirmed with a subtle nod, hearing Seonghwa approach and look down at them from the deck.

“We have our heading,” the boatswain informed them. “Are the repairs finished?”

“Yes,” Yunho called back. “But I don’t think we want to stick around and explore the lagoon.”

When Seonghwa tilted his head, not knowing what he referred to, Yunho pointed out at the flock until Seonghwa took note of the feeding frenzy.

“I’d rather not be lowered a few pegs on the food chain,” he quipped to keep the boatswain from panicking.

“Right,” said Seonghwa curtly before turning to the crewmen presumably on the deck behind him. “Haul them in.”

As they secured the ropes to the longboat and allowed themselves to be pulled up and swung over the rail, Yunho and Jongho gave each other a meaningful look.

Anxiety and dogged pursuit were taking over, and it wouldn’t be long before things reached a breaking point.

“Were there rocks visible near the lagoon entrance?” Seonghwa asked as he helped them out of the boat.

“Not that I saw,” Jongho answered, not divulging the fact that he’d gotten a look from underwater as well as above.

“Let’s leave tomorrow at high water then,” Seonghwa suggested, eyes on the horizon. “Just in case.”

___

It was deathly quiet.

Neither the calling of birdsong nor the crashing of waves reached Hongjoong’s ears as he lay in the sand, hot sun scorching his closed eyes.

He kept them screwed shut as fragments returned to him, pieces of the events that had led to his waking here, somewhere eerily silent.

And still, this was too familiar.

It had been three times now. Three times that he washed ashore, having lost everything.

Once on his side with a bleeding head, the morning after his parents had drowned in the typhoon. A second time on his face, the afternoon after the Stardust had been sunk with the navy’s fire ships.

From the sound of things, Hongjoong had washed up again on yet another deserted beach, but not deserted by choice.

His memory began to return as a few fingers twitched to feel the ground beneath him. This time he was on his back.

It had been the wave.

Such a sudden force of nature had required his full attention and teamwork from the soldiers.

As his thoughts turned to Wooyoung and Yeosang, Hongjoong’s eyes wrenched open.

The sky was still that blinding blue, though a pair of hazy clouds stretched across it. No trees filled in the edges of his peripheral vision.

He wasn’t on the deck of the Black Crow, which meant he had been washed away from it and somehow survived.

If Yeosang and Wooyoung were trapped below—

No.

No, they couldn’t be…

History would not repeat itself a third time.

Throat dry and strained, he tried calling out their names.

It took a few tries, but rolling over onto his knees, Hongjoong pushed himself into a kneeling position and glanced around to catch sight of them.

There was nothing, no one. Complete and utter destruction, as far inland as the jungle that stretched through the middle of the island.

Hongjoong’s jaw dropped as he took stock of it; structures toppled, boats washed inland, trees bent sideways, and the silence—

The silence was deafening.

As long as he looked for it, he found no sign of human life other than his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Underneath him was grainy dirt, not sand, and it was with growing dread that Hongjoong realised he hadn’t even washed up on the beach.

There was no beach.

Finally staggering to his feet, Hongjoong turned towards the jungle, hoping the Black Crow was hidden there amongst the trees— the only trees still standing within a mile radius.

Anything else was either flattened, or under the surge of ocean water that no doubt would begin to recede in the coming hours.

Pushing through the pain of straining an already exhausted body, Hongjoong searched under every boat wreckage he found, so many of them smashed to bits that any of them could be part of the Crow without his realising it.

More than a few lifeless faces stared back at him when he uncovered their dead bodies, quickly moving on while pushing away the thought that Yeosang or Wooyoung could be next.

The ocean dare not take anyone else from him.

With growing frustration, Hongjoong ripped a cabin door off its hinges and peeked inside, finally discovering the bodies of their Haemin captors. It seemed they’d had the same idea to put to sea in another boat, only setting out much too late and being caught in the second surge.

He tossed the door to the side and moved on.

Past the first few trees, a coughing sound caught his attention.

He wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” He called back, willing his legs to carry him up the hill before they gave out. “Who’s there?”

Though they didn’t seem to hear him, the person coughed again and, rounding a corner, Hongjoong finally found the source of the voice.

“Wooyoung!”

There he was laying in the dirt on his side, racked by a cough that looked painful, jostling his healing ribs.

The gunner gasped in surprise at Hongjoong running up and hugging him, partially from the suddenness of the affection and partially from relief.

After a moment, he lifted his arms to return the hug before asking in a gravelly croak, “Where’s Yeosang?”

Hongjoong shot back and searched Wooyoung’s face before admitting, “I haven’t found him yet. You were together, right?”

Wooyoung nodded and painfully sat up. “We tried to escape the flooded decks, but water rushed in through the hatch and we… we must’ve floated out at some point…”

Resisting the urge to bite his lip anxiously, Hongjoong swept his eyes over the surrounding area. “We need to find him. Can you walk?”

“I think so,” Wooyoung answered, clearing his throat and accepting his captain’s hand before being helped to his feet. “He was ahead of me, so the water must have pulled him out first. He should be back on the beach.”

“The beach is underwater,” Hongjoong reported gravely, starting back in the direction of the sea nonetheless. “Maybe he… maybe I missed him when I was looking in the debris.”

Wooyoung saw his uncertainty and his eyes welled up, lower lip beginning to wobble at the prospect that he’d lost Yeosang after all.

“No, Wooyoung, look at me,” Hongjoong drew his attention, placing firm hands on his shoulders before he could crumple to the ground. “We’ll find him. Whatever it takes.”

Throughout the following hour there were more than a few scares as others called out for help, the number of conscious survivors slowly growing but only by a few.

The black water of the surge began to recede, and took with it both bodies and wreckage. Hongjoong and Wooyoung needed to pick up the pace.

Wooyoung refused to split up, searching the debris himself but always within view of Hongjoong, afraid that anything could separate them again.

A strangled gasp from his direction sent Hongjoong returning to his side to see what he’d found. There was a smear of blood across a destroyed plank, connected to a trail that led down the beach.

“It’s fresh,” Hongjoong confirmed. Already of the same mind without needing to discuss their plan of action, the two set off to follow it, fighting down the dread of what they might find at the other end.

The owner of the blood had been moving down the shoreline this direction, but the trail began to run cold as spots on the sand grew infrequent.

Just as he was about to assure Wooyoung that this was a positive development, that it meant the person had gotten the bleeding under control, Hongjoong rounded the corner and nearly tripped over Yeosang.

“Yeosang!”

He and Wooyoung exclaimed in unison, reaching down to lift their navigator off the ground where he appeared to have fallen and checking him for injury.

A large gash ran down his forehead, his own hand pressed there to stop the flow of blood, and there was a dazed look in his eye.

“You’re alive!” Yeosang choked out, standing to greet them, albeit unsteadily.

“We’re all alive!” Wooyoung gasped in excitement, the sheer joy on his face standing out in contrast with their bleak surroundings.

“We’re alive!” Hongjoong repeated aloud, suddenly giddy at the near miraculous outcome of such an experience. “I’ve no idea how, but—”

“We’re all alive, and we’re together…” Yeosang pointed out, taking each of their hands in his and holding on tight.

The tears in his eyes welled up and spilled over, catching on like they were contagious, so the three of them stood there laughing hysterically all while crying harder than they’d allowed themselves to in months.

“The ocean lost this one!” Hongjoong snickered, detaching himself to run to the waterline and give the shallows a weak kick. “Take that!”

Following after him, Yeosang and Wooyoung each gave the sea a punishing slap, quickly turning their frivolity into a game of splashing each other.

Until Yeosang stumbled and needed to be led back to solid ground, all three engaged in a bout of lighthearted tomfoolery, not caring that the moment was approaching when they’d have to grapple with the future and simply being drunk on their own survival for a moment.

“I didn’t see the second wave coming,” Hongjoong admitted in a daze as soon as silence had fallen.

“No one did, captain,” Wooyoung tried to console him, unable to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. “It was behind the first wave.”

Yeosang chuckled and opened his mouth to add something, but found himself blinking blood out of his eyes again and stopped.

“Your head…” Wooyoung remembered, sitting beside the navigator to get a better look at it. “We ought to do something about it.”

“Perhaps there are supplies somewhere, or something laying around that we can use to bandage you…” Hongjoong trailed off, looking around the immediate area and finding little of use.

“It doesn’t hurt too badly,” the navigator tried to reassure them, but both Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been imprisoned with him in Namhae. They knew this was a reopening of the old head wound he had sustained in the torture there, and that much more dangerous as a result.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Hongjoong, and when Wooyoung glanced over he saw blood coating his hand. Not Yeosang’s blood.

“What—?”

Cutting himself off, Wooyoung watched Hongjoong open his jacket and reach a hand inside only to find more blood.

His wound from the execution had reopened.

With only the slightest expression of annoyance, the captain dropped to the sand next to Yeosang and heaved a sigh.

Wooyoung looked more nervous now, and pressed his fingers together anxiously.

They weren’t broken anymore, but thinking of the days in that cold prison cell brought back the phantom feeling. Pain and loneliness.

He was running a mantra through his head; they won’t leave me, we’re going to be alright.

Hongjoong put a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s just… rest for a moment.”

___

“Seonghwa!”

One voice broke through the fog of panic that had descended on his brain. Hongjoong’s voice.

“Here.”

A hand reached out towards him, and finally Seonghwa turned from the ledge of crumbling floor tile he was clinging to and tried to reach back.

“You’re too far away,” he muttered, trying to keep the shaking of his voice to a minimum. Any moment now, he’d lose his grip, and Hongjoong was too far away.

Dark, cold eyes landed on him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Seonghwa knew he’d only dredged up a memory, but he waited patiently nonetheless, fingers brushing Hongjoong’s as he climbed lower and strained to reach him.

Distantly, he registered the scene playing out; others below yelling at them to stop, Hongjoong instructing Seonghwa to jump.

Grunting with effort, he released the wall and pushed off, flying for a moment as freely as he had that first day he set foot on the ATEEZ, before Hongjoong’s hand found his and he was snatched from the jaws of death just in time.

Hongjoong cried out as he caught him, the sudden pressure on his arm reopening the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

“What— you were shot,” Seonghwa heard himself say aloud while he tried to stop from swinging back and forth.

He was slipping on Hongjoong’s blood again, falling through his fingers no matter how hard the other tried to pull him up.

“Don’t let go,” Seonghwa cried, a different plea than he had made in the moment. Any rational thought was now banished at the sight of sticky, trailing blood, primal fear invading his senses as he felt himself slip again.

The blood won out in the end, and Hongjoong lost his grip, but this time they didn’t swim through murky water and crawl their way out to the sunlight.

Falling through the abyss while the scream was snatched from his lungs, Seonghwa snapped awake and stumbled out of bed.

His hammock swung gently in the dark from the momentum and the boatswain tightened his grip on it to calm his breathing.

The floorboards were cold and a glance outside the stained glass windows at the night sky explained why. It was snowing.

A sharp gasp from the bed on the other side of the cabin distracted him, and Seonghwa found his feet moving of his own accord, going to see who had made the noise.

There was Hongjoong, muttering in his sleep as he thrashed around in a nightmare of his own.

Knowing by now that there was nothing he could do until his captain awoke, Seonghwa silently padded to the galley and began preparing the tea.

Ever since Jongho had joined with his tempestuous dreams and disturbing prophecies, the infirmary had sleeping draught in stock to coax him back from the edge of nightmares, although now the stores were dwindling as they ambled north to rid him of his curse.

Admonishing himself for spending everything on hearty foods and warm furs for the arctic instead of buying more ingredients in Geobugi, Seonghwa returned to the cabin with a steaming cup of tea, sleeping draught mixed into the chamomile.

Sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Hongjoong finally jolt awake, a realisation began growing in the back of Seonghwa’s mind that he was, in fact, still dreaming.

He refused to admit it to himself, and placed the teacup in Hongjoong’s hands as he sat up and froze in surprise.

“What… what’s this?”

“I made myself some tea,” Seonghwa lied offhandedly. “Didn’t feel like finishing it. You can have the rest.”

Too frightened to express any concern verbally, he sat there until the cup was drained, taking it from Hongjoong’s hands before he dropped it and guiding the captain’s head to rest on his shoulder when it was clear the draught had begun taking effect.

“That’s not just tea,” Hongjoong mumbled while he fought the pull of sleep. “It’s the medicine, Jongho’s medicine, isn’t it? We’re almost out of it and he’ll forget you next, you shouldn’t have…”

Seonghwa shushed him and pulled the blanket up again. Hongjoong wouldn’t remember it in the morning, and even if he did, he couldn’t stay angry for long.

A chill swept through the curtains and despite Seonghwa’s efforts to warm them both up, the body beside him was growing increasingly cold.

He could feel himself waking up, and again he refused.

The room was becoming hazy, the dream bleeding away into waking life but Seonghwa held on, tears filling his eyes in distress.

“How many times will I have to lose you?” He whispered hoarsely, knuckles white as he clung on to the fabric of the blanket, to the feeling of his dream. There was a pounding noise somewhere outside that slowly registered as knocking.

Hongjoong tilted his head, shifting it from Seonghwa’s shoulder in confusion. He was only a figment of his imagination who didn’t know he was disappearing even now.

“You could never lose me.”

The tears spilled over and Seonghwa was suddenly afraid he would die again right then and there, that perhaps it was the tea that poisoned him, Seonghwa who had killed him—

“Don’t… don’t close your eyes,” he begged, voice raw with pain that had been buried for months. “You have to live, I can’t take care of them on my own!”

Hongjoong shook his head and chuckled at him, as if amused that Seonghwa would ever think he needed to take care of the crew by himself.

This ghost from the past had no idea what he’d done to them in the present, not even when the knocking grew and Jongho’s voice sounded from the door.

“Hyung?”

“No!” Seonghwa protested angry now. “No, I can’t do this! Please!”

“Hyung!”

He opened his eyes and Jongho was shaking him.

“There you are,” the younger boy sighed when he finally met his gaze. “Are you alright? You were screaming.”

It was night still, and Seonghwa was drenched in sweat and tears, slowly sitting up to console Jongho that things were fine.

“Just a nightmare.”

Still hardly able to breathe, he shifted the focus off of himself with a question, “What are you doing up at this hour?”

No one else was in the captain’s cabin, with Mingi confined to the infirmary at night on the doctor’s orders.

“It was my watch,” Jongho answered simply, slowly as if he were speaking to a child. “Yours is next, that’s why I’m here.”

Usually Seonghwa would scold him for his sass, but tonight he said nothing and walked away, throwing on a robe and stepping outside the cabin.

That was the signal to Jongho that something was wrong.

“It was a bad dream, wasn’t it?”

He followed the boatswain belowdecks to the galley where he began making tea out of habit, treading carefully with his words.

“Not particularly,” Seonghwa answered, but his heart wasn’t in the response, regardless of the fact that it was technically true.

He’d had worse nightmares since that day.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Pausing where he hung the kettle over the fire, Seonghwa considered it but decided against. All the guilt and anguish accumulated since the execution were neatly packed away to deal with on his own, and the fact that they burst through the seams in his sleep didn’t mean he was losing his grip on his emotions.

“Is everything alright?” Jongho asked again, quieter this time, when Seonghwa neglected to answer the first question. He seated himself at the table and folded his hands patiently, ready to listen.

“Things are fine,” Seonghwa brushed it off, pouring hot water into his cup as soon as it was ready and listing all the reasons when it became apparent Jongho wouldn’t accept his answer. “Repairs are underway, everyone’s injuries are healing, the messenger bird has been sent to the Stardust, and soon we’ll be meeting them at Ama.”

Outwardly, things were actually improving for once and no trouble had found them in their secluded lagoon.

Inwardly, it was a different story.

Seonghwa felt lonely. There was a chasm in his heart and it ached terribly.

“You don’t have to hold everything together you know,” Jongho pointed out with a gentle hum, already more aware of the real issue than he should be.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Seonghwa scoffed, still trying to divert the younger’s attention. “The ship breaks apart at the drop of a hat. It’s like she’s… unhappy.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jongho cut him off, firmness in his gaze even while his tone remained soft. “What’s been going on with you?”

Finally dropping into a chair and downing half of his tea in one swig, Seonghwa accepted the inevitable. There was no getting out of this conversation. Jongho was too observant.

“It’s the dreams, Jongho,” he sighed heavily. “They’re not like the ones you used to have, they-they don’t come true. Sometimes, I wish they did. Just so I could speak with him again.”

Shaking his head with frustration at himself, Seonghwa hid the tears springing to his eyes behind another gulp of his drink.

“That’s not a burden you need on top of so many others, hyung,” Jongho argued, persistent in his attempts to make eye contact with the increasingly agitated Seonghwa.

Hot blooded anger coursed through his veins, bitterness at Hongjoong for abandoning him like Mother had years ago. Like it seemed everyone always did, even when he promised himself not to get attached.

This was why he never settled down. This was why he held everyone at arm’s distance now.

“Can anything be heavier than the burden I already bear?” He ground out hoarsely, finally looking up and into Jongho’s deep brown eyes, terrifying him deeply. “I was there that day Jongho. I was there and I let him die, alone.”

Jongho couldn’t keep his eyes from watering at this admission, and needed a moment to turn away and breathe deeply before scooting his chair closer to pull Seonghwa into his arms.

Ever since he’d joined the crew, he wasn’t one for initiating physical affection, but slowly his walls had been broken down as he’d received more and more, especially from Seonghwa. There was nothing else for Jongho to do now, except to hold him tightly in return and fight to keep the tears out of his voice.

“You’ve been so strong,” he whispered. “So strong, hyung.”

A sob was caught in Seonghwa’s throat as he clung on, suddenly feeling very small again.

“But I failed.”

“No one believes that,” Jongho insisted. “Please listen to me; this wasn’t your fault. Guilt will consume you like it consumed me when I thought I had killed Wooyoung and Yeosang, and I can’t bear to see it. You don’t deserve this pain.”

At this Seonghwa cried, finally releasing the emotions he’d fought so hard to keep from showing around the others. There was still the smallest worry in his mind that Jongho would think less of him for letting it out, but the younger boy simply rubbed his back and muttered quiet assurances.

“You don’t need to pretend for our sakes, I mean that,” Jongho’s voice broke through gently.

“It’s been so long,” Seonghwa hiccupped, blinking red-rimmed eyes as he looked up at Jongho. “Why can’t I move on?”

“I don’t think any of us have moved on,” came the response, honest and raw even though it appeared in a lost whisper. “We’re doing our best. Please, say you’ll be here, together with us.”

Jongho needed him. All the officers did. They were traumatised, each of them, and Seonghwa wouldn’t leave them alone to the darkness of their minds. There was no chance of overcoming those feelings by themselves.

And so he nodded, and wiped Jongho’s budding tears for him before the favour was returned.

“He visits you in your dreams, doesn’t he?” The younger boy asked, a knowing lilt to his voice.

Seonghwa nodded. A shadow at least, often only the image of him, sometimes haunting and sometimes merely a memory.

“Me too. We have to cherish it, hyung,” Jongho declared, cupping Seonghwa’s face in his hands. “The fact that we can be together somewhere, if not in waking life.”

___

Yeosang wasn’t sure how long he’d dozed off when he opened his bleary eyes to see the grey world around him. He was in someone’s lap, and Hongjoong was stroking his hair and humming something mindlessly.

At least, he thought it was Hongjoong. A few blinks later, he realised he was correct.

The captain’s white hair had dried and the buttons of his navy uniform were undone, but it was most certainly him and when he noticed Yeosang was awake, he stopped singing and smiled down at him.

“Welcome back. Feeling alright?”

“Hm,” Yeosang tested out his voice before responding, a bit hoarse. “Better. You?”

Hongjoong pressed his lips together and looked away, merely humming in response.

Yeosang exhaled through his nose and let his eyes fall shut again. He hadn’t been entirely truthful, as the light was still bothering him, but the lessened pain could be attributed to the fact that the sun was setting, and he’d now slept the day away.

Again, Hongjoong’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you shivering?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Yeosang frowned, even as he realised he was, in fact, trembling quite violently. “I’m soaked to the bone.”

Regardless of how long he’d slept there, the dampness of his clothes hadn’t lessened. Perhaps because they were lying in the shade, under one of the last palm trees left on this stretch of beach.

“Wet officers’ uniforms will get us nowhere in enemy territory,” Hongjoong pointed out, unfastening his collar and peeling it away.

“So shall we use palm leaves to make new ones?” Wooyoung snorted, entering Yeosang’s field of vision briefly and squeezing his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think we’ll want coats now anyway,” Hongjoong muttered, knowing the question was in jest but answering anyway as it raised another problem. “It’s entirely too hot.”

A moment of quiet passed by, and Yeosang’s eyes almost closed of their own accord again. The pounding in his head had started to return, and even though Hongjoong’s hand continued to card through his hair rhythmically, there was a stickiness in it that made Yeosang wonder if his head wound was bleeding again.

If he faded into the memory, it was Wooyoung’s hand wiping away the blood and dirt— his good hand, not the broken one— and Hongjoong was absent from his cell, being interrogated someplace where his cries wouldn’t escape the stone room. Guilt settled in the pit of Yeosang’s stomach and he began to understand why his captain had played the piano and filtered out his own screams.

If he let himself relive the dungeon on Namhae, his mind was again wholly consumed with the dread of seeing Admiral Kim next, when the lieutenants tired of beating them, unable to glean any information whether they flogged, drowned, or starved the pair. And in the end he had been freed, and Wooyoung with him, because of one little mark on his skin that once had branded him an outcast and now set him apart as untouchable.

Yeosang forced himself back to the present, where voices were creating a plan. As much of one as they could create in the middle of nowhere with next to nothing.

“We should hide in the jungle,” Hongjoong said regretfully, as if he had considered all other options first and come up empty. “The Crow is here somewhere. I don’t fancy being recaptured.”

A chill passed through Yeosang again, not from the damp uniform this time, and Hongjoong held him tighter until it was gone.

The Crow was here somewhere. Admiral Kim was here. Either alive or dead, and Yeosang much preferred the latter.

The thought of spending his days in the musty depths of that ship again was a harrowing one. Yeosang had no idea how Hongjoong had survived alone down there for months before he and Wooyoung had come, but he’d rather not repeat the experience either way.

Surviving on their own, washed up on a foreign island that had been stricken by the ocean almost upon their arrival, was likely the better alternative.

At the very least, they knew they would have Hongjoong’s experience to help them.

“Can you walk?” The captain asked, and Yeosang nodded in answer, head merely shifting up and down against Hongjoong’s chest, before confirming with his body.

Sensing that he had agreed prematurely, Wooyoung came to help him stand and, supported between the two of them, Yeosang got to his feet and steadied himself.

Murky seawater was draining away, and the ground grew firmer as they moved uphill. Trees were more densely packed and the smell of the earth intensified.

Yeosang’s senses heightened as they fully entered the jungle, the sight of the ocean behind cut off from view for the first time since he’d left his mansion at Bundam.

“Let’s get that coat off you,” Hongjoong offered, passing most of Yeosang’s weight to Wooyoung and helping him out of the jacket before removing his own and throwing the three of them over a tree branch, where they hopefully wouldn’t be seen.

The sound of fabric ripping came from beside him, and Yeosang turned to see Wooyoung tearing the sleeves of his blouse off. He handed one to Yeosang and one to Hongjoong.

“To use as bandages,” he explained like it was obvious when the pair looked at him in confusion.

Yeosang flashed him a grateful smile while Wooyoung secured the cloth around his head, soaking up the blood and conveniently keeping the sweat out of his eyes as he advanced into the trees.

“Alright, you’re next,” the gunner attempted to convince Hongjoong. “Shirt off, let me bandage you.”

“No, it’s alright, really,” the captain tried to argue back. “We should save the sleeve for when Yeosang soaks through the one you just gave him, he’s bleeding much more than I am.”

While the two went back and forth, Yeosang continued into the jungle, remaining in earshot but curious to see if he could balance on his own.

Using the tree boughs to support him, he moved uphill at a steady pace, concentrating his strength as best as he could.

He glanced back at the others and informed them he was ready to go on, but they were too wrapped up in their conversation to notice.

Yeosang kept moving anyway.

His head was clearing the further he went, perhaps because the constant noise of rushing water was absent.

Instead, there was the quiet hum of forest, not completely unlike the woods back home near the mansion, but wilder in its unfamiliarity and more mysterious the deeper he ventured.

Something caught his attention when the sound of voices had drifted away.

A pile of uniforms, hung over the branch of a tree.

Had he gone in a circle?

When a wave of dizziness hit him the longer he stared at it, he leaned against the tree to catch his breath and considered how he must have arrived there.

Wooyoung and Hongjoong weren’t standing beside it as they had been when Yeosang walked away, and though he couldn’t be certain he’d only walked for a few minutes, there was no way they could have disappeared that quickly.

Inspecting the uniforms closer revealed something unexpected.

They were lieutenant uniforms, decorated with medals and sashes that the lower ranking soldiers didn’t have. So, unless Yeosang had hit his head harder than he thought, these weren’t their uniforms and this wasn’t the same tree.

He sucked down a panicked breath. The officers had survived and were here somewhere. While that was likely good news for the stowaways, it meant the Admiral could be alive as well, which was decidedly not.

“Where is he?”

“Yeosang! Which way did you go?”

Muffled shouts came from the brush behind him, but Yeosang soldiered on without responding, following the trail of discarded clothing— hats, shoes, and blouses littering a newly beaten path through the jungle— and hoped Wooyoung and Hongjoong would follow.

It was like his head was full of cotton, detached from himself and somehow feeling none of the pain as he wandered in the direction everything pointed to. Even the palms were bent away as if beckoning him.

Just up ahead, a particularly large tree had met its match but not fallen. There, cradled in its boughs, were two ships that bled into one as Yeosang blinked the fog away. He must be hallucinating.

A man-of-war had been washed up and stranded there by the tsunami, and as Yeosang stepped closer hesitantly, still hiding behind a palm frond in case he was seen, he caught a glimpse at the colours she had been flying and the name written on the aft.

It was the Black Crow.

___

Taglist: @spoiledmilknoreos @knucklesdeepmingi @serendipityunho @atzjjongbby @ley-writes

A/N: Hello crew mates!!! I’ve just returned from a lovely week by the ocean which helped me get this chapter done so I can finally focus my efforts on the one you’ve all been waiting for (the next one) where all the angst, longing, and situational irony just might come to a head 👀 there are some surprises in store, I promise you that ;)

PSA: If you would consider joining a platonic fic fest, a really cool one called the 8 Makes 1 Family fest is happening this summer (info) and it would be super cool if we got a lot of participants ^^ Let’s birth some new works into the world (myself included)…

Otherwise, thanks so much for waiting and reading this chapter. Only one more in this volume and then on to the LAST!!! 12 chapters in the Treasure series. I’m going to be very emotional. Let me know your favourite part(s), predictions, headcanons, and any other thoughts you have on this chapter in the comments or my twitter and have a nice day/night :) ttyl~

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barnesbabee · 3 years

Text

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ- ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST: White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

"Teach you what?"

"How to be a better man, how to have mercy, and compassion."

Unbeknownst to you, a little purple and pink cat watched every step you took. Of course, it wasn't because he cared. Cheshire (unlike many other Wonderland villagers) genuinely wasn't affected by your presence, or lack there of, but the Hatter had asked him, in exchange of a hefty reward, of course, to keep an eye on his beloved Y/N.

While watching over you Cheshire just did a whole bunch of growling and nose scrunching. He hated the sight of the King, and even worse, was the sight of such a man in love.

"Such a shame to be the bearer of bad news dear friend," Cheshire said, not at bothered by the fact that he had bad news to tell "but it seems as if Y/N will be our new Queen."

The cat twirled a strand of his coloured hair around his index finger, as he fell down onto one of the many chairs along with the Hatter's never-ending table.

The Hatter's eyes widened and so did his toothy smile.

"She's carrying on with the plan! She will decapitate him herself and become our Queen! Oh but I'm so happy I could dance the Futterwacken again!"

He clapped feverously and suggested a toast, clearly missing the meaning of Cheshire's words.

"I'm afraid you missed what I meant, Hatter. She will be our Queen, because she will be marrying the King."

The atmosphere suddenly became silent, eerie even. The Hatter's green, sparkly eyes transformed into an ugly, rage-filled, yellow. The man gripped the teacup on his hand so hard it broke, but the rage, disappointment, and growing heartbreak fogged his brain to the point where he didn't even notice the pain, nor the blood trickling down his palm.

The Hatter was rarely angry, but when he was, it was enough to scare poor Cheshire, who didn't hesitate in disappearing into thin air. Or he tried to. Before every bit of his body could be gone, the Hatter grabbed Cheshire's hair, making the cat groan in pain, and threw him on the ground.

"What has he done to her!? Was it a curse!?"

Cheshire caressed his head and stood up to look at the Hatter.

"It wasn't a curse Hatter, she fell in love. After you deceived her and the King showed her nothing but truth and love, the choice was pretty evident."

The reasonable explanation seemed to calm down the Hatter, whose eyes morphed back into their greenish colour. However the dread and panic in his face were still evident. Cheshire, still quite upset at Hatter's tantrum, could see on his friend's face an expression of someone about to spew a terrible, terrible idea.

"We must get her away from the Palace. It's gotten into her head. Let's get her back to us!"

The man-like cat floated back to his usual place in the air, twirling in the process. He chuckled audibly, showing his sharp canines in the process.

"Hmm yes, let's steal her away from the man she's come to love, so she could be with us, the people who lied to her for our own benefit. Sounds like a party if you ask me..."

"A party!?" Haigha exclaimed, his left eye twitching as he smiled widely at the mention of his favourite hobbie.

"That's where the King's behaviour comes in our favour," the Hatter said, patting Haigha's head so he'd sit back down "once he sees her take her beloved Queen away, he will show his true colours, Remember how scared and freaked out she was last time we saw her? She said he seemed really sweet while talking to her until he eventually snapped. Once he snaps, he will freak out and bring out the tyrant's behaviour and scare her away."

It was hard for Cheshire to admit, but his mad friend's plan wasn't so mad after all. It was possible to accomplish what the Hatter suggested, and there was nothing to lose, you already hated them anyway.

The Hatter slapped his thighs and stood up, fixing his big top hat in the process.

"Shall we go?"

Haigha was already standing up from his seat when Cheshire stopped them.

"Perhaps we should discuss the plan further... Something tells me we might need some help from Absolem and Bayard..."

Sneaking you out past the Card Knights would take a lot of help, and Cheshire had already worked out in his head the escape plan. It would take a little pressure on Absolem, as he managed to care even less about the people around him than Cheshire did, but the cat was sure he could get a shrinking cake out of the blue catterpillar. After shrinking you and hatter down to the size of a strawberry, Bayard (the loyal dog friend of Hatter's, that Cheshire tried his best to keep a distance of) would bring you to the White Rabbit's house, as it would be too obvious to come back to the Hatter's cabin.

The cat had no intention to help you, but he did like to see some drama and commotion in Wonderland once in a while, and this was his chance.

Whilst all of the furious planning went on on the greenlands of Wonderland, in the Palace you and the King sat opposite of each other on his bed, gossiping like two high schoolers.

"And then my best friend at the time, Anna, slept with my boyfriend and said it was 'because of a dare'. I forgave her because we had been friends for so long but then she told my crush that I smelled so I stopped being her friend."

The King nodded along and listened attentively (trying his best to cross his legs just like you, but failing miserably) to your story.

"Hm yes, yes, I understand. My best friend ate one of my tarts so I cut off his head."

You couldn't help but scoff at the way he compared the situations, although you reprehended him right after for the heartless act.

He had asked to know of your previous life, how it was back in your world, and so you sat there reminiscing your past for hours on end. Most people in Wonderland came from other places, but Seonghwa had never been elsewhere, as he was born in the Kingdom.

"So this establishment you call 'school', was it like a club you went to where you reunited with your peers?"

"No, no. School was a mandatory thing for all kids, we went there and a bunch of teachers taught us about different things."

"Hm, but all you've told me so far were anecdotes about these friends of yours, what were these classes like?"

You blushed slightly, realizing that in fact, you didn't remember shit from school, aside from past dramas.

"Well, they told us many things about earth, about what makes the world move, about how society works, and what makes things work. We learned about gravity, about numbers, about stars-"

"Stars!?"

The King's eyes lit up as if he was a child whom you had promised ice cream to.

"Yes, stars. Why?"

Seonghwa stood up from the bed in such a violent manner, he nearly fell. The man ran over to his closet, from where he retrieved an old book. The hard cover was beginning to tear, and the once white pages had become a weird mix of brown and yellow, but you took it in your hands nevertheless.

"This book once fell into the Wonderland when I was a child. I was alone most of the time, so it kept me company. I can tell from the images it talks about the stars, and I think I learned a lot from it since I stared at them a lot, but I cannot comprehend the alien language."

The King leaned against the headboard, and you laid beside him, placing your head on his chest, so you could hear his now nervous heart beating fast from the contact. Out of instinct, the King placed his arm around you and pulled you closer, as you opened the book.

You chuckled slightly, after seeing the author of the book and opening its pages.

"Seonghwa this isn't an alien language, it's Italian. Well, I guess it's an alien language to you, but it was funny that you said it that way... The person who wrote it was very influential back where I'm from, he taught the people of Earth many things about our space."

The male listened carefully as you tried your best to explain the things in the book as best as you could.

"This here is what we call the Solar System. It has nine planets, but only one of them has people, this one, where I live." You told him, pointing towards Earth.

Seonghwa noticed how your posture changed, after you remembered once more that you would never return home again, and panicked for a second. He disliked many things, but your tears had definitely gone up to his number 1 on the list.

"How about I ask for a picnic to be arranged in the garden, and at night we can watch the stars."

You turned to face him and smiled as you nodded. Seonghwa's thumb caressed your arm, and you couldn't help but to place a soft kiss on his lips, as a 'thank you'. No matter how many times you did that, the King never seemed to get used to it. He would always feel butterflies in his stomach and fireworks exploding on his chest. Sometimes you felt perverted, thinking of how he'd react if one day you decided to take it... further. You imagined how pretty he'd look... But you decided to take your time. Baby steps...

The King couldn't wait for dinner time, and you could tell from the number of times he had gone up to the window and pushed away the blinds to see if the sun was finally setting.

As he was staring out the window, you came behind him and wrapped your arms around his figure.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Seonghwa looked around, to make sure no one was nearby eavesdropping. He wouldn't want your secret to being known.

You tiptoed so your lips could be leveled with his ear.

"You're adorable."

Once you got back down and looked into his gleeful eyes, you smiled.

"Let's keep this secret between us!" He joked along.

"Yes, I wouldn't want the other ladies to know and steal you away."

Seonghwa held your face and lovingly placed a kiss on your forehead.

"The other ladies don't stand a chance next to you princess."

Your cheeks heated up and you slapped his chest out of embarrassment. The King's face grew worried and confused.

"Why did you hit me? Have I done something wrong? It was meant to be a compliment I'm sorry I compared you to-"

You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks, making him form an adorable pout with his red lips.

"Seonghwa, it was a good thing. I slapped your chest because I was embarrassed, I was really touched by your compliment."

Once you let go of his face, the King tapped his chin with his index finger, in a pensive manner.

"I have much to learn about our future interactions, I do not understand many things."

You just chuckled and took his hand in yours.

"We have many years ahead of us, you will learn someday."

The small acknowledgment of your future made Seonghwa very happy. Never in his pitiful life had he even thought of being this happy over small actions... Last week the only thing that brought him joy was the sound of a traitor's head hitting the concrete floors of the palace's main area, but since you arrived, a smile was all it took for his cold heart to start beating again.

It didn't take long before one of the frogmen knocked on the door to inform the picnic was ready. Seonghwa didn't let go of your hand as you walked outside, to sit among the red roses.

You had finally come to terms with Wonderland's weird food. You had no choice really...

"Have you never been attracted to anyone, Seonghwa?" You asked as you munched down on a sandwich of... whatever it was.

Seonghwa's expression faded a little.

"Once. I had just become King and I thought that the next step would, logically, be the find a Queen. Every woman displeased me. All but one. She was beautiful, hair as dark as the night sky, tanned skin from the sun, and a beautiful mole under the eye. But she was cold, evil... I thought that it was a perfect match. After all, I wasn't the most caring person. But she would treat me like a servant. Our relationship was purely to serve a purpose to the Kingdom, nothing else. We slept in separate rooms and spent the day apart. We only dined together, but since I saw the same behavior from my parents I thought that that was love. Our wedding had been scheduled long before she moved into the castle, we were simply waiting for the preparations to be finished. Everything was custom made, from the clothes to the flowers on every table. The day before the wedding I walked to her bedroom and found her laying with a servant of mine. You know, back when they weren't... Frogs. I had them both decapitated, of course. And I swore off love forever. That is until you came along."

You flashed him a sad smile and set down your food. He looked awfully confused as you climbed onto his lap, but he didn't protest.

You brushed his dark hair away from his eyes. Both of them. He suddenly felt very exposed and insecure, but you kissed his cheek, reassuringly.

"Ever since I came down here you've shown me nothing but love, and honesty. You didn't try to sugarcoat who you are, or what you've done, and I appreciate your honesty. My place in Wonderland is with you."

The male smiled, and kissed you, a little more passionately than all of the previous times. The male's hands trailed down your ass, and pulled you on top of his growing erection.

"For someone who has never been with anyone you're quite good at this."

"Well I... I lied. I had a fiancé after all, and we laid together but we didn't get far. There was no kissing involved, she just wanted to get it over with since I was the one who suggested we should... do it. But she made fun of me for not being good at it and I became... insecure. I was insecure and for the longest time I've wanted to try it with you, because you give me those special butterflies but I was afraid I'd disappoint you."

"What a cold, heartless bitch!" You thought to yourself. No wonder he was so bad at human interactions, every relationship he had was a trainwreck!

You grabbed his face and placed a long kiss on his lips.

"Well then, let me lead at first. If you start feeling more confident, you can take the lead, if not, I'll stay in control, okay?"

The King simply nodded and kissed you once more. This time deeper than he had ever kissed anyone. Tongues fighting so intensely the King nearly missed the way your hand expediently undid his trousers. Your hand slipped inside his boxers and took out his length. You looked down at the dick in your hand and widened your eye.

"Well aren't I a lucky girl."

You spat in your hand and kissed him again, as your hand worked up and down his shaft. The King was surprisingly very vocal, and he didn't try to hide or suppress any of his pretty moans (and for that you were thankful.

You stopped your hand, right as he was getting riled up.

"Ready for something better?"

The King watched you strip from your panties, and he cursed the frilly dress that covered your womanhood, but as soon as you sunk down on his cock, all of his worries and anguishes washed away. It was automatic, the way he gripped your hips and made you bounce on him as he snapped your hips against yours was something he did naturally as if he truly knew what he was doing. You brought out something different in him, and the King was simply doing was his body was telling him to do.

You gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed with the feeling of having him inside you.

"S-shit Seonghwa, you're good, r-really fucking good."

"Oh yeah?"

He flipped you two around, so he could pound into you with all the strength he had. Your words of encouragement were all he needed.

Your consistent (and loud) moans got him on the edge quickly, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Y/N forgive me, but I don't think I can last much longer."

Your hand reached down and began circling your clit, so when he came inside you, filling you up with his cum, you came right after, with a loud cry for his name.

Seonghwa laid on top of you, his face nuzzled on the crook of your neck, trying to regain his breath. You ran your hand through his hair as you did the same, looking up at the sky.

"The stars sure look beautiful today."

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atinytokki · 4 years

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐥𝐥

Chapter 10: Crossroads Pt. 1

(Warnings: Violence and blood)

The morning sunshine that filtered through the trees was much softer than the light that blazed through the porthole of Yunho’s room back on the ATEEZ.

Still, he found himself wishing he was waking up in his own comfortable hammock instead of this massive net that dug into his sides and made his neck prick with aches and pains.

As Yunho carefully shifted to stretch his leg, a soft groan from next to him reminded him to check Eden’s wound.

“Is he awake?” Jongho’s whisper from across the net startled him but he shook his head in response.

“I don’t think so. His pulse is so weak.”

It made Yunho bite his lip with worry. Blood had soaked the netting underneath Eden and dripped onto the ground far below. He wondered if it would attract more predators.

“There’s... nothing we can do...” Jongho hiccuped, tears freely rolling down his cheeks.

His gaze was locked on Eden’s face, pale as a sheet with a layer of sweat covering it. The older pirate was unmoving and barely breathed.

So much blood had been lost, it was a fool’s hope to think that he might survive, even if help arrived this instant.

“Eden? Eden, please, just stay with us a little longer,” Yunho shook him gently, paling at how lifeless he was. The bandages had soaked through with blood, even as he rushed to clamp his hand down on the wound.

There was no telling how long he had left.

“I’m sorry, so sorry...”

Eden’s tired mumbles went on until his eyes twitched open, a faraway look deep within them. “I’m sorry for hiding the truth...”

“What’s he talking about?” Jongho wondered aloud, freeing his limbs from their positions and trying to move closer.

Yunho could only shake his head helplessly. “No idea.”

“It’s alright, Eden,” he directed his words at the fading pirate. “W-We forgive you.”

Jongho was shaking Mingi awake and scrubbing at his face. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was crying so hard. He barely knew Eden, it wasn’t as if he was a particularly sentimental type.

Mingi stirred from his sleep and quickly pieced together what was happening.

“How do we explain this to Hongjoong?” He said quietly after a few moments had gone by and Eden had fallen unconscious again.

Yunho swallowed his fear and met his gaze, eyes shining with worry nonetheless.

“Oh, not you lot again.”

An annoyed voice from far below broke their melancholy spell. It was the woman they had come here in search of, crossing her arms and glowering up at them. She looked exactly the same as she always did, beautiful and ageless, with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “What are you doing up there?”

Jongho spluttered and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the witch. “Well, excuse me, but—”

“Thank the heavens,” Yunho cut him off, gripping the net with one hand and clutching Eden with his other. “We really need your help.”

...

Wooyoung bit back the instinct to complain as he hoisted San’s unconscious form onto his back for the trek to the old seaside carpentry shop.

He and Yeosang had confirmed that the old couple’s house was above it, just as San said it would be, and the least dangerous way to get San there was to knock him out and carry him with them.

So Wooyoung kept his grunts to a minimum and led the way up the dirt path.

He and Yeosang were again elected to be the spokesmen for the little group, and with a deep breath, Yeosang drew up to his full height and knocked to the door.

Whatever this was, it had better work.

“Just a moment! I’ll be right there.”

The voice of a young woman floated down from the second story and Wooyoung’s shoulders relaxed. This must be his sister.

The door squeaked open to reveal a bright-eyed lady probably around their age, who immediately took on an expression of horror at the sight of a sleeping San draped across Wooyoung’s back.

“Oh my, is he alright? Can I help at all? Would you like to bring him inside?”

Her rush of concern had Wooyoung wishing he had a quicker tongue or at least a backup plan and then throwing a questioning glance back at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong tilted his head.

It was almost imperceptible, but to Wooyoung, it was a clear order.

Don’t bring him inside. There’s too much at risk.

Wooyoung cleared his throat and smiled at her before taking a slight step back.

“Actually, I’ll stay out here with him. The, uh, the sea air will... benefit his health.”

It was a poor excuse and Wooyoung had to strain to keep the cringe off his face but the woman nodded seriously and opened the door wider for the others.

Yeosang smoothly took over the talking. “You must be surprised to have a group of strangers turn up like this on your doorstep! We don’t mean to intrude, but San has always talked about going back to see his sister and—“

“Sister?”

Yeosang faltered at the pure cluelessness in her voice. Had they come to the wrong house?

“You’re San’s sister, aren’t you?” Seonghwa asked quietly.

For a moment, recognition washed over her face and then she smiled, leading them upstairs to a living room area and motioning for them to sit while she explained.

“Oh! No, no I’m not. I’m the new owner of this shop, I’ve been planning to turn it into a bookstore actually. But I was warned by the old couple who lived here prior that a certain Choi San might drop by one day. None of you would happen to be him, would you?”

Yeosang’s mouth opened and closed until Seonghwa swooped in again to save him. “Pardon me, but, was there a young woman with this old couple? Did she move off the island too?”

The lady took a seat and a thoughtful frown formed on her face, brows pinched together as she tried to remember.

“No, actually... there was a young lady but...” Here she looked up at them and shook her head. “That lady died. Her death was the reason they sold this place.”

Yeosang felt a chill wash over him.

San’s sister was dead then.

He exchanged a warning glance with Seonghwa and Hongjoong both before politely smiling and getting to his feet.

The young woman started after them, stuttering something about offering them tea, but Yeosang gracefully cut her off.

“My apologies, we really don’t want to bother you,” he turned on his most charming smile and bowed as the others exited behind him. “The person we were looking for seems to be gone.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, sincerity shining in her eyes as she bowed back and showed them to the door. “Feel free to come back if you need anything at all.”

The moment the door was shut, Yeosang couldn’t hold back his sigh.

Wooyoung had been waiting, and quickly stood, pulling up a semi-conscious San who had been laying on the grass next to him. “Finished already?”

Seonghwa cleared his throat and answered him even as his eyes lingered on San.

“We have some bad news.”

...

The temple looked exactly as Mingi remembered it.

Reddish-orange wood beams masterfully assembled into a high pagoda, a bright beacon that stood out in contrast to the surrounding foliage, and the majestic waterfall that stole their glances to the cliffside. It was as breathtaking as it was when they had been there last, a group of six.

Nothing about this place had changed, but Mingi felt as if he were different.

“How have you been?” He asked awkwardly, clearing his throat when the woman didn’t seem to hear him.

“Well, as good as can be expected. One of my cats was killed last night.”

Jongho blinked as he realised what the mystic was hinting at.

“So the jaguars are yours?”

She turned around and smiled at him. “They protect the island, yes.”

“You have magical powers,” Mingi scoffed, mostly to himself. “What do you need guardian beasts for?”

The woman’s smile fell and she ascended the steps gracefully, ushering them in. “My eyes are often elsewhere,” she said simply.

She gestured to a sofa in the main room and went about gathering things from the adjacent pantries while Yunho laid Eden down as gently as he could, trying not to jostle his leg. He listened for the shallow breaths he had come to recognise and exhaled with relief when they came on schedule.

“I’ve been following the proceedings of the royal family from my watchtower,” the woman mentioned. “I didn’t know of your arrival here, so I apologise for the hasty actions of my cats. Although, to be fair, it’s been a long time since anyone has taken the eastern path.” Here, she stuck her head back out to smirk at Mingi.

“Why are you here, boys?” She finally asked, returning to them with all her medical herbs and supplies.

Mingi and Yunho glanced at each other, thinking the same thing. Where do we even start?

“You remember San?”

The mystic hummed in agreement, even as she whispered some chant and rubbed an unfamiliar substance into Eden’s wound. He didn’t stir from his slumber.

“Well,” Jongho took over the explaining. “He’s possessed and we need your help banishing the demon.” He went to hand her his little book of incantations but it was waved away while she continued to sprinkle a mysterious powder over the wound.

“He showed no interest in dark magic when I saw him last, as a new officer on your ship,” she responded, still somewhat distracted with Eden. “What happened?”

Jongho sighed and turned the small book over in his hands. “He got mixed up with Babylon’s spellbook and summoned the demon accidentally.”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know about this,” Yunho mumbled. “What with your crystal ball and your prophecies and your watchtower and everything...”

“Demons are exceptional at disguise,” she tossed back over her shoulder as she stirred various wild plants and substances into a jar. “I knew Babylon was stirring up trouble, I didn’t know about this particular development.”

“There’s a chant in here,” Jongho explained, bringing forth the book again. “None of us can read it so we thought to ask you...”

“Why didn’t you simply bring him here?” She interjected.

Mingi sighed. That would have been the preferred alternative, but this was their best chance, he had to keep reminding himself.

“The demon was threatening to kill him,” he said softly. “San bought us some time by setting out for Namhae. They’ll arrive in about a week and a half.”

The mystic halted her stirring and sighed, mumbling something to herself. “I’ll search for him later,” she decided, transferring the contents of the jar into a mug and motioning for Yunho to prop Eden up. “Make sure he drinks all of this. He’s been on death’s doorstep for a few hours now. It’s a miracle death hasn’t come to collect him yet.”

Yunho nodded and watched her bandage the leg wound with clean cloth. “There are rooms for you to rest in through there,” the woman pointed out past a balcony to an upper wing of the temple. “Rest while I gather my resources. What you ask of me is no simple magic trick.”

All three of them nodded and graciously thanked her before following her directions, Yunho keeping an eye on Eden should he regain enough consciousness to drink his medicine.

There was a balcony with a view to the waterfall, and its misty spray was sweetly scented in a way that reminded them of their island in the east. An unclaimed utopia they could lose themselves in.

Jongho sunk into one of the plush beds that waited for them, his long, uncomfortable night in the net catching up with him. Still, something was on his mind.

“Why does it feel like we’re sacrificing San for Eden?”

Mingi looked up from where he was emptying his bag. He had found it hard to ignore the same thought, but sighed and resumed unpacking. “We’re still days ahead of the ATEEZ, don’t worry.”

“And besides,” Yunho smiled over at him. “We can trust the mystic. She’ll do what she can for both of them.”

The trio quickly learned that time worked differently on the island. A few hours’ nap lasted until sunset, and Mingi was startled to have slept the entire day away in what felt like no time at all, but the woman reassured them when she entered with plates of food that it was normal to have to adjust to the fleeting notion of time.

Still, it made him anxious to know what had been discovered about San while he was out like a light.

“It was easy to find San due to the concentration of mystical energy around him,” she reported, settling in a chair and watching Eden intently. He still hadn’t woken. “But I can’t cast a spell on him if he’s not in one place.”

Yunho froze in the middle of chewing his bite of fish. “You... what?”

“He’s currently in motion,” she tried to explain, sighing at the difficulty of it. “Sending a spell to someone while he sails... it could go terribly wrong. It has in the past.”

“So this was pointless then?” Jongho moaned, the bread fisted in his hand looking decidedly less appetising.

“No, there is still something I can do,” the woman smiled at him and tilted her head towards her watchtower. “I’ll call up the incantations now, remotely, and when the time is right they will come into effect.”

Yunho scoffed at this. “When the time is right?”

“Yunho, is it? Clearly you know nothing of the rules of sorcery. Rarely are solutions so simple,” she shook her head with amusement. “I need the cooperation of whatever part of San is left. This spell locks onto human emotion, and if San regains enough control over his emotions to activate it, the demon will be banished from him.”

Silence stretched over them. Somewhere deep down, they all knew it would come back to San.

He had summoned the demon, and it was his responsibility to drive it out.

But Yunho would not let this trip be in vain. “San’s emotional enough, that’s for sure,” Yunho smirked, trying to raise their spirits with a pinch of optimism. “He’ll present the right opportunity soon.”

But this meant they had to wait. And waiting was not something they were good at.

It was a week and a half of flipping through books that didn’t make much sense to them, watching Eden sleep and waiting for him to wake (the mystic said he had to be convinced), exploring the immediate area of the island but pointedly avoiding the “cats”, and sleeping off as much time as possible.

Time was swinging over their heads as anxiety pounded into them.

Every day, the mystic checked San’s position, and every day the answer was the same; at sea. No development. It was a blessing and a curse.

Until one morning, when the mystic shook them awake and summoned them to her watchtower. The crystal ball pulsed on the table in front of her.

“I’ve found him. He was sleeping soundly for awhile but has last awoken. Now his soul is... it’s in agony.”

Mingi spluttered at the choice of words. “What? Agony?”

“He is experiencing extreme sadness, the strength of which is temporarily overpowering the evil entity in his body,” the woman returned like it was obvious.

“You can overpower a demon with negative emotions, too?” Jongho whispered, fascinated, before quieting again so the woman could continue.

“If both of us try hard enough,” the mystic promised, eyes glazing over as she prepared to begin. “Yes.”

...

San didn’t know what to expect, but it was not this.

Wooyoung’s face appeared, separating the fog in his mind, and his lips were moving. The sound reached San but he blocked out the rest of it because he did not want to know what followed those heartbreaking words.

More heads popped up, Yeosang’s concerned eyes and Seonghwa’s pained expression, but San couldn’t focus over the ringing in his head.

Someone was screaming and it sounded like the voice of the demon, but when he paused he noticed his voice was raw.

It flashed white hot and then burned him, a molten pain that ripped his insides apart. He was separating the demon from himself.

A new voice came to him, whispering in his head, and he was tempted to throw it out too but he hadn’t heard this one before and it was a friendly, encouraging presence.

I’m with you, she said. Keep fighting, you’re almost there.

When he opened his eyes again, Hongjoong was in front of him, pulling him off the main road and into a cluster of trees. His eyes darted around, afraid someone would hear screams and be curious.

“It’s... I’m almost...” San choked on his words, inhaling sharply at another pain in his head. “He’s almost gone.”

He didn’t see their reaction to this declaration, eyes rolling back in his head as the fight in his mind intensified.

The demon was being snuffed out, his resistance weakening and his assets spread thin.

His trembling voice promised everything San could ever ask for if he only let him live, let him stay. Simultaneously, San could feel him trying to jump out and into someone else even as his presence was ground to dust.

San clung on to whoever’s hand was in his and remained firm. The blackness drained from his veins as he hammered down again and again on the demon. He wasn’t banishing it, he was destroying it.

Aided by a sudden surge of energy, the help of an outside spell being granted to him, he swung his blade down on it one last time, the agony of its dying scream escaping through his own mouth and the pain rendering him unconscious.

Yeosang rubbed his arm until he awoke.

Tears were on his face, and they flowed freely as he grasped each of them in a hug. Save for his own sobs and the gentle ambiance of the seaside, things were quiet. San had never been so grateful for the quiet in all his life.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Seonghwa whispered into his ear as he held him tightly, blindfold cast into the wind without a care.

San could only nod against him and cry harder. He had missed everyone, more than he could bear.

“Drinks are on me,” Hongjoong said with a bright smile as he pulled away. The road back to the inn was quiet but bursting with joy. San was among them again— mind, body and soul. The serene contentment that had settled over them would not be disturbed. Not for now, at least.

It was one thing at a time when they pulled up their chairs around the table they had claimed in the corner of the pub. San was famished, probably thanks to the demon stealing any of his enjoyment out of the food he had consumed while possessed.

When he slowed down enough to look around at the faces of the people around him, it gave him pause.

“Everything alright?” Wooyoung prompted carefully. He kept looking at him like he was afraid he might get struck by lightning suddenly. That probably wasn’t going away any time soon.

“Yes, I was just remembering,” San responded after a moment. “Drinking together after your promotion. We were wasted but you told us your story, and I told you mine.” It seemed like ages ago now.

His face fell as he let the loss of his noona wash over him again.

“Haneul... she’s really gone, isn’t she?”

Yeosang met his eyes and hummed in response. “I’m so sorry for your loss. The woman living there says your grandparents moved away. Maybe we can track them down somehow at least...”

San’s eyes misted over and he gazed forlornly into his cup. “I think I’ve known for a while, deep down. She was marked for death ever since I was a child, but... but why couldn’t she have waited for me? I got the money for her medicine now, maybe she would have survived.”

Seonghwa rubbed his back tenderly as soon as tears began to roll down his cheeks again. “It wasn’t your fault,” he soothed him. “You did everything you could, San.”

Everyone at the table agreed.

When San crawled into bed and Yeosang and Wooyoung both crawled in with him, he finally let the floodgates of his emotions open.

A small smile remained on his face as he drifted off. It was a messy outpour of feelings, but he hadn’t felt anything in so long, he would allow himself this night.

...

It was nearing midnight, but Yunho felt compelled to open his eyes.

It wasn’t because of San. The mystic had assured the trio that he had won his battle and vanquished the demon, so that couldn’t be it.

“It’s Eden,” her voice floated to him from the other side of the room as he rose and groped for a robe to cover himself with. She was so calming somehow that she hadn’t startled him by answering his silent question, but she beckoned him over just as urgently as she’d awoken him. “He’s awake.”

“What took him so long?” Jongho whispered as he rose.

“Eden is still young in body, but his soul is old and wearied. I think part of him wanted to keep sleeping.”

“Why now, then?” Mingi asked, scratching the back of his head. The three approached Eden’s bed quietly but full of anticipation.

The mystic turned to him and smiled. There was a twinkle in her eye, even through the blue veil of midnight.

“Your presence gives him hope.”

With that, she swept away to mix another drink for her patient, and the boys directed their attention on Eden.

His face contorted with pain as his eyes blinked open. Yunho rushed to offer him the drink, and Eden relaxed as he sipped it and strength gradually returned to him.

“We made it?” He finally croaked out.

Jongho chuckled and slapped Mingi on the back, a little harder than he was bracing himself for. “Mingi saved you,” he explained. “And defeated the beast.”

Mingi blushed at the praise and Eden’s eyes on him. “It didn’t do much for you in the end. We were stuck in a net the whole night.”

“I remember,” Eden hummed softly as it came back to him. “How long have I been out?”

“Just over a week,” Yunho sighed. “Although it doesn’t feel like it. Time passes strangely in this place.”

Eden nodded. He had visited before and the hazy blend of days was no surprise to him.

“When we came with Hongjoong-hyung we barely stayed a couple of hours,” Mingi pointed out.

“San? Is he...?”

“Taken care of,” Jongho told him quickly. “The demon was destroyed and he’s himself again. We were only waiting on you.”

A flash of guilt passed over his face and he sunk lower into the cushions. “You did well,” he finally said, a heaviness to his voice. His eyelids drooped lethargically and in a moment he was asleep again.

A universal sigh was released as Eden stilled and returned to his dreams. They had never even broached the subject of whether he would be able to walk again, but there was some comfort in the fact that he was alive and with them.

Fireflies glowed in the air outside the balcony and Yunho peeked behind the shade to watch them float, sailing up and down invisible waves of their own.

While it was this peaceful, Yunho couldn’t help but wonder what was on the horizon.

...

Just like usual, Hongjoong was half asleep on the floor with a hand on his gun concealed by his pillow.

Something twinged in the back of his mind, tickling his senses and sending him bolt upright. Immediately he conducted a headcount.

San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were all tangled up in a mess of limbs, squeezing onto a single bed having fallen asleep holding each other.

Hongjoong didn’t resist the small smile that appeared on his face as he watched them breathe deeply, lost to the world but safe in slumber.

Then he looked for Seonghwa.

His bed was empty.

Silently, Hongjoong stood and approached it, just to be sure. The blankets were all disheveled, as if they had just been thrown off for a trip to the outhouse or a midnight snack.

Seonghwa’s bag was still there, leaned against a small table. So he intended to return.

But his gun was missing.

Hongjoong didn’t want to pry, not when it came to Seonghwa’s brother and his complicated heritage. But he had taken his gun and gone alone. Which meant he might need help.

He holstered his own gun and crept downstairs to see a single attendant waiting, half-asleep, at the desk for late night travellers.

“Did a member of my company leave just now?” He asked, approaching the desk and suppressing his smirk at the way the man started awake and stared at him in surprise.

“Oh, y-yes, a young man your age. He took a room key and said he would be back.”

Hongjoong had figured as much, so he nodded and retreated back upstairs to wake the others.

What was Seonghwa thinking, sneaking off to meet the crown prince when he knew the others would support him and come if he asked?

Hongjoong didn’t get a chance to consider it any further before half a dozen bullets blasted through the window, shattering it with a deafening bang and tearing holes in the curtains.

Hongjoong pressed his back to the door and drew his weapon. A few more steps and he would’ve been riddled with holes himself.

With a whirlwind speed, Wooyoung tumbled out of bed and drew up next to the window, out of sight of their unseen enemies, but close enough to return fire.

Hongjoong mirrored him on the other side of the window, but not before checking that San and Yeosang were alright.

They had dove off the other side of the bed and hurriedly loaded their own guns.

“How many?” San called, poking his head up over the bed. It was impossible to tell who was even firing at them through the mess of cloth and glass that was the window.

Wooyoung grabbed the bottom of the tattered curtains and yanked, pulling down the entire rod and leaning out of the way of the bullets that shot through, embedding themselves in the wall.

He swivelled and returned fire. Both shots missed, but they hadn’t been meant for anyone in particular. He turned back around once he had seen what he had to.

“Fifteen.”

San blanched. “Who sold us out?”

“I paid all the dock hands off,” Yeosang insisted. “It can’t have been any of them.”

“I don’t think you paid them enough, Yeosang,” San quipped, vaulting over the bed and joining Wooyoung.

The sudden motion was detected and another wave of ammunition was fired through the hole that was the window.

Yeosang leaned out from behind the bed and fired three rounds blind in quick succession. Judging from the screams, at least one hit its mark.

“Well done,” Hongjoong praised, impressed that Yeosang’s marksmanship had improved so much.

“Seonghwa?” Yeosang asked haltingly as soon as he had surveyed the room fully.

“He just left the building,” Hongjoong reported, taking aim at the right flank of men he could see from his vantage point and firing. “I asked the innkeeper.”

“Seonghwa...” Yeosang repeated, a lilt of realisation in his voice. “It was him, he must have been seen leaving the inn. Why else would they choose now to attack us?”

Hongjoong jumped to deny it, but he had a point. The Admiral would never have waited to pounce. The moment he knew they were in his grasp, he would catch them. They had enough of of a history that he knew not to play with them.

A bullet grazed Wooyoung’s ear while he reloaded and he sunk lower with a gasp. That was too close.

“We can’t take them, Captain,” he asserted. “There are too many and we’re sitting ducks.”

Hongjoong knew he was right, but he returned fire and took out three of them consecutively before addressing it.

“San, do you still carry Babylon’s spellbook pages?”

San fumbled through his pockets until he felt the edges of parchment in his fingers.

Slowly, he nodded. He had promised himself never to use them again, but he had no choice but to grasp them and flinch at the familiarity.

“Is there anything in there that might help us?”

“You’re going to call for help,” Yeosang realised, ducking when a volley of fire sent a particularly large glass shard his direction.

“Yes, I can do it,” San confirmed, leaning over Wooyoung to take out the soldier who grazed him. “Not in the middle of this racket, though.”

“Then run,” Hongjoong ordered. “Get out of town, and get it done. We’ll cover you.”

San bit his lip and glanced at the other two, who nodded him on without hesitation.

This was the only option.

So San holstered his gun while Hongjoong and Wooyoung unleashed fire on the men below and swiftly crossed the window, moving so quickly he was barely a visible flash before he was gone.

“Don’t get shot!” He yelled back, closing the door behind him.

...

The crown prince’s temporary residence was at the highest point on the island, but it was only a short walk from the inn.

Seonghwa didn’t question his luck when the entrance was only guarded by a chatty pair of men who didn’t notice the shadow slipping past them, but he kept his footfalls silent and his senses alert when he reached Junhee’s bedroom.

He had done his fair share of stealthy break-ins as a teenager.

A curtain separated the sleeping prince from the rest of the world.

Seonghwa silently slid the door shut behind him and cleared his throat quietly. He didn’t want Junhee panicking and summoning the guards on him.

This adventure would be ended quickly if that happened.

“I’ve come home, hyung,” he whispered.

The curtain swung open suddenly and Junhee gaped at him. “What is the meaning of this? Guards—“

“No, wait!” Seonghwa leapt forward and covered the prince’s mouth before he could say any more. “Listen to me first.”

Junhee threw him off and backed up into the curtain. “You’re addressing the crown prince,” he sputtered. “Show the proper respect.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Seonghwa sighed, hands raised placatingly. “But you’ve been looking for me, haven’t you?”

Junhee’s brow furrowed and his hand stopped where it had been reaching for his sword. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s me,” Seonghwa whispered, surprised at how the words choked him. He hadn’t practiced but then again, this wasn’t the kind of conversation you could practice for. “It’s your little brother.”

Junhee’s face darkened. “You think you’re the first to come claiming to have been stolen from the palace? You’re lying.”

“I’m not, I swear,” Seonghwa pleaded with him, falling to his knees to show he meant no harm at all. “Why do you choose this moment not to see what you’ve been looking for, when it’s right in front of you?”

“I followed his trail,” Junhee said bitterly, tears gathering in his eyes. He backed away even more, as if scared of the person who knelt in front of him. “He died at sea, on a merchant’s ship.”

“No, he survived,” Seonghwa cried, reaching out his hand. “He’s right here in front of you.”

Something shone in Junhee’s eyes. Something that said he wanted to believe it.

“Show me,” he said.

Seonghwa swallowed. He had been stolen at five. There was hardly any knowledge only he could have of his brother or the royal family. He had grown up a commoner with his nurse for his mother.

And then he remembered something she had told him.

“You gave me this scar, hyung,” he gasped, pushing up his hair for the fine line on his forehead to be visible. “You crept into my room when I was an infant, dropped me accidentally, and only three people know. The nurse who stole me, and the two of us.”

Junhee sunk to his knees and took Seonghwa’s face in his hands. He only briefly glanced at the scar, lingering instead on his little brother’s eyes.

“It is you,” he whispered. “It really is.”

Junhee knew what it was like to not be believed, but he had clung to the truth. And that truth had returned to him, crying tears of joy as he entered his arms.

The reunion was interrupted by gunfire.

The brothers pulled back in surprise and Seonghwa stood and went to the window.

“What’s going on?” Junhee muttered, wiping his tears. “Has a fight broken out?”

Seonghwa didn’t even have to look. He knew who it was and his stomach dropped at the flashes of light coming from its direction.

“The inn.”

...

Taglist: @serendipityunho @celestial-yunho @nightynightnyx

A/N: Yay!! I’m done with another term at university :) which means more frequent updates (hopefully) for you guys. This volume is wrapping up, but I have another (at least) in the works and plenty of other stories for you to check out if you so desire. Also I hope the two timelines weren’t too confusing for you. They’ve merged into one now, so everything is happening in succession. Don’t forget to reblog and comment if you enjoyed <3

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