Super

13. apple pie

Jeonghan glided through the hallway like a specter, silent as the grave. The corridor seemed endless, going on for doors and doors, so long that it would have seemed like it was going in circles—if it hadn't been for the different sounds behind each door.

Some of the doors blanketed quiet sobs, some hid singing, and some were completely silent. Jeonghan focused on the distant point in front of him, not letting his eyes stray to the doors on either side. Heaven knew what would happen if he happened to read even one of the names on the plaques.

At last, he came to a door that was different from the rest, solid black instead of cool gray, with no name plates decorating the front. He pushed open the door, the papers in his hands, and stepped in so quietly that no one noticed his entry.

The room, in contrast to the black door, was pristine white. Hospital beds stood in neat rows inside, almost as tall as his waist. Jeonghan rested a hand on the metallic handle of one, looking down at the sleeping woman on the bed. The handles were almost as cold as his skin. Almost.

"How are they doing?" he asked quietly. The woman a few tables down flinched, and turned to him darkly.

"I almost killed one of them just now because of you," she muttered, glowering at him, and he noticed that her fingers were locked around the wrist of one of the men on the beds. "Why do you always have to sneak up on everyone?"

He smiled slightly as she let go of the man and stood with her hands on her hips, facing him. The magenta and purple highlights in her dark hair swayed when she moved, and Jeonghan noticed the black leather jacket draped over a chair standing a few feet away from the bed. She certainly liked to match.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to, Jisoo," a new voice spoke up from behind him, sweet and reprimanding. Irene came up to him and stood beside him, passing him a smile in greeting before looking back at the girl. "Jeonghan is such a sweetheart."

"Sweetheart, my ass." Jisoo narrowed her eyes at him, and his smile widened by a fraction. "Look, he's smiling."

Irene ignored her, turning to him with a bright smile. "They're doing great," she cooed, putting her hands together in front of her and rising to her tiptoes in excitement. "So are the ones in the basement, thanks to you. We would never have been able to assemble so many specimens if it wasn't for you."

"He doesn't even have to do anything," Jisoo grumbled, shaking her head and turning back to the man in the bed. "Icy fucker. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have lost a healthy one in the casino last night."

Jeonghan raised a single white eyebrow. "That wasn't my fault."

"Now, we talked about your language, didn't we? Jisoo?" Irene spoke warning. Jisoo glanced at her, and in a split second, the irritation in her eyes vanished. She looked down quickly, but Jeonghan noticed the sudden fear in her eyes. He looked at Irene, who was still smiling, but in an unnatural way. Her eyes were cold, and she tilted her head, looking up at him. Jeonghan blinked, and the coldness was replaced by a cheerful warmth. "We want to get along."

"Right. Sorry." Jisoo swallowed, attending to the man once again.

"Of course you are, chérie." Irene looked down at the floor, and frowned. "Oh, what a mess. Who's going to clean this up?"

Jeonghan followed her gaze to the pool of blood on the otherwise clean floor. The blood was streaked across the floor, as if someone had dragged their bleeding self to the other side. He stepped closer, following the path of blood to one corner of the room, where a severed hand lay next to an overbed table.

"She woke up and starting screaming," Jisoo answered, not looking up from the man. "I would have put her to sleep, but then she grabbed a syringe and tried to stab me. It could have been a cleaner job, and I had to kill her, but it's not like we can't find another one." She glanced at Jeonghan. "I'm sure he'll be able to find us one."

Irene sighed, looking at the severed hand disapprovingly, as if it was a mess made by a child. She pointed at Jisoo before holding up her skirt and stepping daintily over the blood, trying not to get her shoes dirty. "Don't forget to mop this up after you're done, honey," she said to the girl, then looked at Jeonghan. "I want another to replace the dead one before dinner, all right? Apple pie for dessert tonight."

|

"Whatchu makin' for dessert tonight?" Mark asked in a sing-song voice, hopping around Baekhyun like a rabbit on caffeine as they made their way down the hallway. "No, seriously, what are you making for dessert tonight?"

"Super BBQ," Baekhyun answered, smiling half-heartedly. Mark stopped abruptly, frowning as he noticed the dullness in the man's eyes. The corners of his mouth turned downwards into a frown.

"Am I being annoying?" Mark asked, stopping in his tracks. Baekhyun walked a couple more steps before realizing he'd stopped, and turned on his heel to find a pouty teenager looking at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've said that, you're so, like, so busy and I'm just—"

"Mark."

"I should pay more attention to everyone and be nicer and—"

"Mark!"

The black-haired boy stopped, looking straight at Baekhyun, surprised. Baekhyun chuckled, breathy, and shook his head. "Calm down. You weren't being annoying."

"Really?" Baekhyun watched as his eyes brightened—almost literally, rounding and the folds at the corners pulling into an arc, brown and glimmering. "So, uh, what are you making for—"

"I'm not making anything." Baekhyun smiled, more widely this time. Mark was good at cheering him up, even if he did it inadvertently. "Don't you have classes tomorrow, Mark? You should go home, in case your parents get worried."

"I don't live with my parents," the boy replied, shrugging. "And classes start pretty late, so I'm pretty sure I'm good. Are you sure you're like, you're not making anything for dinner?"

"I would, but I'm not a great cook," Baekhyun said as they resumed walking side-by-side, shoulders brushing at random intervals, surprising him. After witnessing Mark's childish demeanor for so long, it was hard to imagine him as a grown-up who was almost in his twenties. "Usually it's Doyoung who cooks for us when we're working late."

"But you made that totally great apple pie last week."

"One of my better dishes," Baekhyun said, laughing. "You should be thankful I didn't burn it like I almost always do. Maybe having you guys around helped, because I was under pressure to do better."

Mark's puppy eyes widened. "You wanted to impress us?"

"You could say that." He pushed open the door to the meeting room. They were back in Nova Tower, and now that he had seen the Blue Room, Baekhyun noticed all the subtle references to the architecture of the lair in the build of the Tower itself. It was unnecessarily detailed, since no one except the seven would actually see it enough to catch these references, but that was just the way Taemin was. An artist in his own right.

"Are you okay?"

Baekhyun turned so suddenly it felt like a flinch. Mark was looking at him with a worried face, and his hands were clasped in front of him, looking as if he wanted to take the question back. "Honestly?" he said, smiling a weak smile. "No."

Mark's mouth formed an 'o' with wonder, eyes sparkling with concern and curiosity that was barely held in. "I thought you were just worried, because, like, Shao, and because Taeyong was being difficult," he said, lower lip pushing against his upper row of teeth. "But even after the Blue Room, you...well..."

Baekhyun pursed his lips, letting go of the door, which shut slowly. "When I found her, my mask was off," he started. "And I wasn't very helpful later, even after we got to Taemin... It's stupid, but I couldn't help but think that you could do with a better leader."

"That's not true," Mark insisted. "The situation was new to you, too, and you didn't even think of leaving her behind—that was more heroic than anything you could've said, or like, done. You're a lion."

Baekhyun turned to him, affectionately ruffling his hair. "And you're my cub."

Mark smiled wide, putting a hand over his heart. "So..." he started, grinning. "You making anything for dinner?"