Feathers And Carnations Chapter Ten

Warped voices.

“A kill switch.”

“This is ML-32.”

“Stay still and it won’t hurt as much.”

“It will all be erased.”

“They might as well kill you.”

“Don’t fight it.”

“My real name is Minho.”

“Take him down!”

“You can say goodbye, and nothing more.”

“I’m here, love, I’m here.”

“It’s for the best.”

“Jisung!”

Jisung’s ears rang, piercing through this head and muddling his vision. Everything was blinding white, and his body was heavy. Something warm pushed under his neck, tilting his head up, which made him realize he was on his back.

“Breathe, Jisung. Come on, take a breath, please.”

Who’s voice is that?

“Take a slow breath in for me, love.”

The hand under his head adjusted, and Jisung gasped in a lung full of air. His heart was drumming against his chest as if he hadn’t been breathing.

“The mask.”

Jisung’s lungs heaved, and it felt like he couldn’t get enough air until a strange plastic settled over his nose and mouth. He closed his eyes as his body drank in the oxygen flowing through the mask.

“That’s it,” the voice soothed, “keep breathing. Breathe in,” Jisung obeyed, “and now slowly release.” He followed the quiet instructions, trying to make sense of what was happening.

The ringing in his ears dimmed, and his eyes rolled closed as everything faded away.

⧫⧫⧫

A subtle, consistent beeping brought Jisung out of the quiet nothingness of unconsciousness. His vision swam in the dim light, sending a small wave of dizziness through his head. He closed his eyes tightly and opened them again a few times until his vision began clearing. Thunder rumbled somewhere above him.

What happened?

Where am I?

The beige ceiling above Jisung gave him no answers, so he tried to sit up. As he moved, he became aware of an oxygen mask resting on his face, an IV in his arm, and other wires and tubes trailing from his body. His heartbeat picked up at the sight of it all. He was connected to a few different machines, but he was in a bedroom, not a hospital room. The room was cozy, with dark wood paneling along the lower walls and soft light glowing from the silver sconces throughout the room. Deep, maroon drapes hung along the entirety of the far wall.

Jisung jumped as something moved off to his side, but he calmed down instantly when he recognized the head of dark brown hair as it lifted from where it was resting in a pair of hands.

“Jisung!” Minho’s voice rushed out of him and he practically flew from the armchair he was sitting in. “Lay back,” he instructed gently, lightly pushing Jisung’s shoulder. “Don’t move too much, okay?”

Unable to properly respond due to the mask, Jisung laid back silently. He winced at the sliver of pain that danced through his head.

Minho’s eyes were filled with such relief, it was nearly spilling out in tears. “You’ve been here for nearly two weeks, so you need to lay still for a little while and let yourself adjust.”

Jisung started shaking his head, grabbing at the mask, feeling as if it was going to suffocate him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Minho gently caught his hands and pulled them away, “not yet, love. I know it’s uncomfortable, but you need to keep that on for a little bit, okay?”

The mask felt like a clawed hand keeping him from speaking, the wires and tubes felt like restraints locking him down. Jisung continued shaking his head and weakly tried pulling out of the other man’s grip.

Minho sat on the edge of the bed, interlacing their fingers carefully. “You’re okay, Jisung.” He set their joined hands against his chest. “Focus on my heartbeat. Listen to the rain outside. Breathe.”

Jisung closed his eyes. He’s warm. His hands are slightly bigger than mine. His heart is pounding. Was he that worried about me?

A gentle quiet settled over the room, harmonizing with the muffled sounds of the thunderstorm outside. It was a long time before Jisung finally opened his eyes again, in a better mindset to deal with this situation. He met Minho’s eyes and nodded to show he was okay.

Minho squeezed his hands in return. “I’ll get Soo to come check on you, and we’ll see if we can take that mask off alright?”

Jisung nodded. Panic itched at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. Freaking out would only make things worse, and he still didn’t even know what happened. The last thing he remembered was standing on the porch of the safehouse with Minho.

Soo was a sweet woman with very long, black hair and kind, round eyes. She was actually very beautiful, and she had a smooth voice to match. She explained everything she was doing and why she was doing it as she completed her check up. 

Apparently she met Minho shortly after he escaped the facility they were kept in and nursed him back to health. She was just a doctor and in no way associated with the mafia, but they’d gained each other’s trust and she helped out where she was needed.

To Jisung’s relief, she removed the oxygen mask and replaced it with a nasal tube, which was far more comfortable. The moment he could, he asked what was wrong with him.

Soo had seemed unsure. All she knew was that he had a strange episode of some sort, but she’d never seen anything like it, and couldn’t give him a straight answer on what happened.

The moment she excused herself, Minho came in, a steaming bowl in hand. “How are you feeling?”

Jisung didn’t really know how to answer that. “Off. I just feel off.” He pointed at the bowl. “What’s that?”

Minho handed it over. “Soup. Or stew, I’m not really sure which,” he said with a small, unsteady laugh. “I just kind of threw things together.”

Jisung studied the food in front of him. It looked and smelled delicious, but it did seem randomly put together. He couldn’t help smiling at the thought of Minho running around a kitchen throwing things in a pot. “What sort of things are in here?”

“Chicken. Some vegetables. Uh, other random things that I’m too scatter-brained to remember. I was trying to add things that help restore energy.”

Warmth bloomed in Jisung’s heart. He took a tentative bite and hummed in satisfaction. “It’s surprisingly good.”

Minho snorted. “Surprisingly?”

“You didn’t sound very confident in your own dish, of course I was feeling a little cautious.”

“Fair enough.” Minho plopped down in the armchair a few feet away, running a tired hand through his hair.

Jisung allowed himself a few more bites before he set the bowl on the small table beside the bed. “Minho, what happened?”

Minho closed his eyes in regret. “I nearly killed you. All because I was stupid and said something that sort of flipped the kill switch in your head.”

Nausea rolled through him, and he gripped the dark red comforter that covered his legs. “Then how am I alive right now?”

“You technically died. Your heart stopped and you weren’t breathing for a minute. I truly thought I lost you again.” Minho glanced away, rubbing his hands together anxiously. “If I didn’t act so fast, you would be dead. Soo did the rest.”

Jisung soaked that in. That doesn’t sound real. But I definitely feel like I died. “And I’ve been out for how long?”

“Twelve days.”

That’s so much time.

“What happened with Su-bin?”

“Is that really important right now?”

“Of course it is. He was paid to kill me.”

“I know, I know.” Minho raked his hand into his hair, his shoulders tense. “The only thing he gave us was the name of the man that delivered the letter. The man just so happens to work for me. Seungmin took care of that a few days ago. But I think I may have an idea who is after you.”

Jisung wanted to keep asking questions, to know everything that went down while he was out, but his attention was diverted to Minho’s state. He was haggard. His hair was wild and out of place, his eyes were dimmed and sunken, and it looked like he’d lost some weight. “Minho,” he murmured.

Minho raised his head. “Yeah?”

“This is your room in your house, isn’t it?”

A subtle blush colored Minho’s cheeks. “Uh, yeah, why?”

Jisung smiled softly and waved his hand. “Come on, get in your own bed. It’s huge and I don’t take up that much room.”

After a moment of hesitation, he got to his feet and crossed the room slowly, as if he was waiting for Jisung to change his mind. “I wanted you to be comfortable, I hope I didn’t cross any lines putting you here.”

“Why would I complain? This bed is made of clouds. If anything, I’m mad that I had to deal with the one at the safehouse for so long.”

Minho released a breathy laugh, sitting on the other side of the bed. “Noted. I’ll get you a better bed”

Jisung’s smile slowly faded. “Have you been sleeping properly?”

“Well yeah-“

“Minho.”

“Okay, I slept two days ago.”

Something tightened around Jisung’s chest. He’s lost sleep because of me? He held his hands up in invitation. “Come here.”

Minho’s eyes flickered over his open arms and back up to his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I’m showing you that I’m here. That I’m okay.”

“Don’t feel obligated to make me feel better.”

“I don’t.” Jisung was even shocked that he was telling the truth. “My skin feels uncomfortable and something in my chest hurts seeing you like this,” he breathed out softly. He didn’t question himself, keeping his eyes on the man next to him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want-“

Minho crawled over to him, angling his body away from Jisung as he gently laid his head against his shoulder. His dark eyes were full of unexplained sorrow.

Jisung set his arm over Minho’s shoulder while his other arm wrapped over his chest, drawing him closer. “I’m okay,” he assured gently. “I’m right here.” He wasn’t sure if he was doing this right, or if he should be doing this in the first place, but deep down, he knew this was the best way to ease Minho’s mind. And he was okay with this.

Minho’s eyes closed as he placed his hand on Jisung’s arm, squeezing as if checking to make sure he was still there, that he was real. “Did you finish your food?”

Jisung cracked a smile. “I ate as much as I could right now. I’ll eat more as I recover. Now shut that mind off, get some rest. You need it.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Do I look that bad?”

“You’re Lee Minho, you can’t look bad, but you do look tired.”

“Did you just call me handsome?”

“No, where did you get that word?”

“It was disguised in the words you said.”

Jisung covered a laugh. “Are you having auditory hallucinations now? Maybe you need to be hooked up to all these machines instead.”

“Don’t call me crazy, that’s mean.”

“I didn’t call you crazy either, so that’s another hallucination. I think you should call Soo back.”

The pair shared a quiet laugh. The storm filled the hushed room as the soft laughter faded and they closed their eyes.

“I missed you, love,” Minho whispered.

⧫⧫⧫

Jisung imagined boring a hole in Hyeon’s head  as they moved through a set of halls he’d never seen before. The evil man had told him he had a surprise, and his ‘surprises’ usually left Jisung on the verge of collapse. The guards flanking him had their tasers out and ready to take him down, so he decided against fighting at the moment.

Hyeon stopped at a white door in the middle of the long corridor. It appeared to be the only door in the area. After swiping his key-card on the lock, he pushed it open. “Your next assignment begins today.”

Fixing him with a suspicious glare, Jisung stepped through the door to see a little room with nothing but scratchy carpet, and two gray couches. His confusion grew when he saw a handsome boy sitting in the corner of one of the couches. He was dressed in a white jumpsuit like Jisung, but the sleeves were cuffed in red rather than the dark blue he was used to.

The boy curled further into the couch, drawing Jisung’s attention to a chain that kept him locked to the wall behind the couch.

Hyeon pushed him further in. “Have a seat.”

The female guard pushed Jisung onto the other couch and locked a chain to his wrist that trailed to the wall like the boy’s chain.

“This is ML-32. He’s in the other program we’re running here. ML-32, this is JH-47. You will both be coming here every day.”

“Why?” Jisung questioned.

One of the guards struck him with the handle of their taser, making him fall against the couch with a yelp. “What have we said about asking questions?”

Jisung fought his rage down, instead spitting a small bit of blood out of his mouth. He was going to kill Hyeon one day.

“You start today. You have one hour.”

The group left one at a time, and the room was plunged into silence as the door slammed shut.

Jisung caught the boy staring at him. “How long have you been here?”

ML-32 tilted his head, his eyes squinting ever so slightly. “I was grabbed when I was fifteen, so… about two years, I think. What about you?”

“I’ve been here for a year.”

“How old are you?’

“Fifteen.”

ML-32’s eyes widened. “They grabbed a fourteen year-old?”

“That’s not much different from you. You’re not that much older than me.”

“I guess so.”

Jisung sat back, studying the boy across from him. He was curled into himself and a bit shaky, but he was fairly well built for living in this prison for two years. “They torture you too?”

He smiled. “They torture everyone, don’t they? Maybe this is their way of torturing you. I’m known for being a little crazy.”

“Me too. I think it’s Chimera that makes us crazy. They mean to drive us mad so we become completely obedient.”

ML-32 laughed. “If you ask me, it’ll come back to bite them. Torturing troubled minds will only result in eventual chaos.”

Jisung’s eyes opened slowly. As if something had settled in his body after years of being restless, he felt a strange calmness. I remembered something. I didn’t have a confusing dream, I remembered.

Hyeon was the blurred figure from his dreams, and the mysterious organization that kept him captive was called Chimera.

Jisung didn’t remember everything, but that one memory was helpful in filling some gaps his dreams had left. He was momentarily pulled from his thoughts when he felt someone shift against him.

Minho was asleep beside him, his shoulder overlapping Jisung’s and one leg under the covers. His lips were parted ever so slightly and his hair was pushed back, making him look ethereal in the dim lighting of the room. Now that the memory of meeting Minho all those years ago was fresh in his mind, he could see how much he’d changed. Minho was stronger now, with a bold presence and a strong body that could withstand more than the average person. The biggest difference, however, was the spark of life in his eyes. That spark wasn’t there when he was seventeen.

Jisung admired him a little too long, and slowly pushed himself upright to avoid waking him up. That’s when he noticed something different. Cautiously, he slipped his leg from under the covers, and his heart jumped. The anklet was gone.

He took a deep breath and moved as if he was crawling out of molasses as he made his way off the bed. When his feet finally touched the floor, his leg muscles didn’t hold properly, and he caught himself on the armchair. The heart monitor spiked and his breathing became shaky. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his arm until the wave of weakness faded away. Once he finally made it to his feet, he began freeing himself from the wires and tubes. One of the machines began beeping, and he unplugged it and held his breath. When Minho didn’t stir, he pulled the oxygen tube off and set everything down silently. 

Jisung was still unsteady on his feet, but he brushed that aside as he moved about the room gathering a jacket he found and a set of car keys that was sitting off to the side. He was wearing a t-shirt and sweats, so he didn’t bother looking for any different clothes. His heart was hammering as he rushed to the door of the bedroom.

He grabbed the handle and froze at the sight of the table next to the door. A pile of boxes filled the surface of it. They were boxes of tea. The tea he loved.

Ribbons snaked over Jisung’s body, keeping him in place and trailing back to the man sleeping peacefully in bed. He turned to look back at Minho, the ribbons tightening around his heart. His lungs stopped, watching his face.

Jisung let out a quiet growl, staggering away from the door and shaking his head. “What am I doing? I should be running off to an airport right now and flying to another continent.” His eyes were back on Minho. I think I trust him.

I trust Lee Minho.

———————— Jisung is alive, yay (no one is surprised). Things are moving along eh? Hope you’ve enjoyed! Thanks for reading :))))