The energy in the van relaxed after Minho finished extracting Jisung's blood and hooked the drip bag to Chenle's arm, the most dangerous part over with as the blood slowly entered his fragile system.
Stripping off his blood-flecked gloves, Minho blew out a shaky breath, legs wobbling as he sat next to Mark on the cool floor. The NCT member watched him warily as he steadied his breathing, swallowing dryly as he began to relax.
Mark got to his feet and reached for a small compartment at the front of the van, pulling out several water bottles for the wiped out passengers. After doling them out to the others, he extended one to Minho, eyebrows creasing with empathy as the drained boy's eyes landed on it.
"Drink some water, dude. You'll feel way better."
Weary, but still grateful, Minho accepted the bottle with limp hands, unscrewing the cap before guzzling half the water in seconds. He stopped to catch his breath while Mark plopped down next to him, the back of the his hand passing over his lips to wipe off the excess moisture.
On the other side of the van, Chan appraised his member, running a careful eye over Minho's current state. "Are you okay? Should you treat Jeongin and Nari now?"
Neck stiff, Minho shook his head, wincing as the action caused hot pain to spike through his body. "There's no need, they'll be fine until we get to the house."
Jeongin shifted slightly against Chan, eyes turning up in agreement. "He's right, we'll be okay."
A tender smile graced Chan's lips as he patted Jeongin's hair endearingly, the boy falling back into sleep only moments later.
Mark surveyed the vehicle, gauging how his own members were doing. Next to Hyunjin, Taeyong was leaning down next to his sister, their exchanged whispers unintelligible but full of light banter.
His gaze shifted over then, towards the boy who's life was on the line, the essence of his friend's veins slowing seeping into him. Jisung hadn't left his spot next to Chenle, his hand still clutching his friend's smaller one, even as it caused his aching arm to throb in pain.
The entire scene was grim, but somehow brought warmth to Mark's chest. Because he could now rest assured that they were going to make it; every single person there was a fighter, and in no way would they allow themselves to lose a single thing to the hands of their enemies.
It was going to be okay, at least for now.
° ° °
Woojin's p.o.v.
Chaos buzzed around him as a nurse quickly patched up his seeping, injured leg.
Woojin blew out a strangled breath, casting his eyes over the nurse's shoulder as the loud rumble of voices carried on in the hallway.
In an effort to appear as though he had been attacked, Woojin had dragged himself away from where he had shot himself, several rooms down from where Nari's had been. It had only taken Hana a few minutes to find him, demanding that he tell her where their enemies had gone, completely ignoring the blood that was pooling beneath his body.
She had pursued after the intruders with her team, leaving him in excruciating pain on the cold floor. Even now, Hana paid him no mind as she paced in the hall, teeth gritted as she spoke into her phone, her empty hand clenching tightly in frustration.
"I want to know where they went," she barked, voice practically slicing the air with its intensity. "Not how they managed to enter the building, or who all they took. Where they went."
Woojin thanked the nurse quietly as she finished, leftover shock making his hands tremble as he carefully tugged his bloody pant leg back down. Now that his mind was relatively stable, he could mentally run back through the past hour's events, and try to piece together each moment again. As he relived his encounter with his members, a shudder passed through him, the sense of overwhelming dread not quite gone.
They had been way too close to being caught.
Deep down, Woojin knew that they would hate him for this. No matter how much time passed or how much he tried to explain, his friends would never truly trust him again. And that was okay. So long as Sicarius never found out that he had helped them.
The phone in Hana's hand buzzed, halting her eternal ranting for a moment. She scowled, pulling the device away from her ear to see who was calling her. The girl's annoyed expression fell, and she hesitantly answered the new call.
"Yes, sir? No... we still haven't found out yet."
Hana's eyes trailed over to where Woojin was recovering on the ground, something unreadable passing through her gaze. "Yes, I'll tell him to go up now."
With that, her call ended, and Hana shoved the phone into her pocket, apparently ignoring the previous caller. She planted her hands on her hips, stonily staring at Woojin.
"Boss Gwan wants to see you. Now."
The name immediately caused his heart to double in speed. There was only one reason that he would be requested in the boss's presence at this particular moment, and that was if he was suspected of something.
They were onto him, was his first thought, but he couldn't assume anything was wrong. That would only make him look suspicious.
Woojin kept his face blank, knowing that if he let his wild emotions seep to the surface, Hana would be able to read them. He stood painfully, wincing as he got to his feet and brushing off his pants, still crusted with blood.
"I'll be going then," he said breathlessly, nodding at Hana before limping his way down the hall.
Woojin could feel her eyes raking down his back as he departed, and chills rose on his skin. Something was very wrong with that girl.
The ache of his leg was almost too much to bear, but Woojin managed to continue walking, and by the time he made it to the elevator he was panting, teeth clenching as blood began to seep through his bandages.
After jamming his thumb on the correct button, he shrank back against the elevator wall and focused on breathing deeply, eyes closed in concentration. If he was to throw everyone off of his scent, he needed to keep a cool head.
A chime brought his eyes fluttering open, and the double doors facing him slid apart, beckoning him to exit the compartment. With effort, he peeled himself from the wall and hobbled out, slipping his hand into his pocket to fish for his ID card.
As he approached the boss's office, the two guards on duty scrutinized his appearance, before one held out their hand for the card. Woojin handed it over, wincing as the action put unwanted pressure on his injured leg.
The guard on the left glanced at the card momentarily and nodded to his companion, giving him the "okay". "Let him in."
The door was promptly pulled opened for him, and Woojin carefully stepped inside, waiting just on the room's threshold as the door clicked shut behind him.
A familiar smoky scent drifted through the air, emanating from a cigar pinched between two fingers. The man holding it took a puff and savored it, holding the smoke in his mouth before blowing out a satisfied breath.
"Ah, there you are! Just the man I want to see," Gwan said in a welcoming tone, although his gaze was laced with marked coldness. "Come, sit down."
As Woojin eased into the singular chair facing his expansive desk, Gwan's eyes lingered on his compromised leg. He repositioned himself to get more comfortable before addressing it.
"Does it hurt terribly? Hana tells me that, by your words, you were attacked by your own gang. Is that so?"
The dryness in his throat almost caused him to cough. "Yes, sir. It is."
"I see," Gwan nodded, cocking his head slightly, his dark, lanky hair falling around his eyes. "Why do you think they didn't just kill you?"
Woojin's hands tensed, and he forced himself to calm down. "I think they wanted me to suffer."
Gwan stayed silent, playing with his cigar for a moment and casually twirling it around. His shirt collar shifted as he leaned forward, revealing the edge of what looked like a large tattoo. His lips puckered in thought before he chose to speak again.
"I think you're lying to me."
Keep denying it.
The inner voice was small and almost unnoticeable, but Woojin trusted his instincts, so he obliged.
"You may think that, sir, but it won't make it any more true."
The comment seemed to genuinely stun Gwan, and he leaned back, actually letting out a chuckle of amusement. He grinned widely, taking immense pleasure from the dangerous conversation.
"Is that so? I really like that," he laughed, rubbing a finger across his lips jovially.
"Alright," he agreed suddenly. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You still need to prove yourself, anyway. As you are well aware, I'm still missing my traitor. Why don't you head up the team that tracks him down for me?"
Woojin swallowed, not daring to celebrate yet. A small victory had been achieved, but now came the next hurdle.
"I want him first."
Gwan cocked an eyebrow, eyes slitting as he processed Woojin's words. "Come again?"
"I want him to be given to me first, put into my possession. I'll agree to lead the team if you meet that condition."
The boss's snake-like gaze darkened, the demand starting to shift his mood. He did not like being told what to do.
"You are in no position to be making demands," Gwan muttered roughly, teeth grinding as he spoke. "The deal we made was that we deliver him to you after I receive Hwang Hyunjin alive, not before."
Woojin's heart sank completely. It was over. He hadn't acted fast enough. And now it was too late.
Because Woojin knew, he realized that he could never finish this. Even with everything riding on this incredibly important decision, he still couldn't do this to them. His friends.
Woojin had failed him.
Gwan continued, oblivious to Woojin's devastation. "Until you do that, your brother will continue to take part in our prestigious program, training like everyone else. I don't care if he's your only condition; it's your fault that he's here in the first place, and if you want him out, you'll have to get your hands a little dirtier."
He had failed him. As a big brother. He had failed.
"Dismissed."
guess who's back.... it's me