Jongdae isn't quite sure how he managed to drag himself into the back of the basement. But there's an obscene amount of blood where he and Yixing had been before, and he isn't really sure how long its been. Somehow, he'd pulled and pulled, smearing a long line of blood behind him, handprints messily curled around the edge of the lockers where he'd tried to find some purchase and get into a cubby. Finding a small nook, Jongdae'd pulled himself into the locker, folded himself up, and pulled the door shut as much as he could.
His breath was hot and the locker had long been wet and overpowered by the stench of copper, but Jongdae couldn't care less. He wanted to hide. Die in a corner in the dark where the cameras wouldn't see. Where his family and his district couldn't be embarrassed of him. He leans his head back, lets it knock gently against the warm metal of the locker, and closes his eyes, hand still clutching his sticky wound. He saw it coming. Knew he wouldn't last long.
His breaths come in short gasps, and he knows he's far too noisy; that anyone could come and find him like this, and off him for real, but he isn't so sure that'd be too bad. The pain is rather unbearable at this point.
It isn't until his ears grow foggy and his eyes start to slide shut that he swears there's a noise outside his locker. Jongdae isn't completely sure, but he fumbles to try to pull the locker door shut just a little more, fingers falling short with a soft gurgle.
The door pulls open and Jongdae closes his eyes, welcoming death and the cold breeze, hoping whoever it was would be merciful enough to make it quick. He feels nothing as he blacks out.
---
Jongdae's not so sure he's dead anymore when the faint, steady sound of beeping reaches his ears and his chest feels tight. The pain is still there, but it's dull now, as if something had muted it. He stays still, listening first. There's a quiet crackle, like a fire, and after a long moment, a rustle of someone shifting positions. Jongdae's suddenly aware that he isn't alone. And he's weaponless.
He cracks open an eye, the fire a good fifteen feet away, and the dark of a hunched silhouette beside it. Jongdae can't see his face from here. But he's facing away from him and as Jongdae opens both his eyes he peers down to see he's been stripped of his shirt. A tight white bandage wraps around his chest, explaining the tight compression he'd felt, and there's only a couple spots of red. His hands are still crusted with blood as are his stained pants. But at least he isn't bound, and Jongdae nearly tuts at his idiotic captor. Who would bother to save him and not even tie him up in a game of betrayers?
Holding his breath, Jongdae tries to roll to the side, wincing. When he manages to get on his left and try to push himself up quietly, a hand clamps over his mouth sharply from behind, sufficiently stopping the scream that tries to escape from both the pain and the unexpected face in his own.
Dark, sharp eyes stare into him, assessing him, and Jongdae suddenly wishes he'd died back in that locker. Even in the dark, Jongdae can feel the danger emanating from this boy with his dark locks and the bags beneath his eyes convince him that this boy hasn't slept at all.
Heart racing, Jongdae slackens in his captor's hold, staring up at the other boy in terror. The boy continues to stare before he looks up at whoever was behind Jongdae and whispers a gentle, "You can let him go." His voice is high and soft, and Jongdae's slightly taken aback.
"How do you know he isn't going to try to attack us? Or run?" comes the low voice behind him, close to his ear. Jongdae's eyebrows move upwards and he looks down at his chest with an expression of incredulity.
The boy in front of him smirks a little before looking back at the one behind him. "I don't think he could."
After a long moment, the hand around Jongdae's mouth slowly pulls away and he's abandoned to slump forward with a quiet whimper.
"Be quiet," the voice behind him hisses, and Jongdae turns just enough to catch a flash of blonde hair and puffy red eyes before the lean boy is retreating to his place beside the fire. In the flickering light, Jongdae can make out his tanned skin and taut muscles, and it's slightly unnerving.
"You're Jongdae, right?" the softspoken boy in front of him questions, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.
"The one and only," Jongdae murmurs a little, trying to sit up with a wince. The boy kneels beside him, throwing his arm around his waist gently. Jongdae goes rigid, but the other seemingly ignores him as he positions Jongdae's arm over his shoulders and lifts him carefully.
Jongdae chokes on a sob as the pain sears through his chest. The other furrows his brow a moment before glancing back at the fire.
"Jongin..." he calls gently. "He's going to need more of the painkillers. I'm going to wash him up for new dressing."
If Jongin hears, he certainly doesn't respond, but Jongdae's current crutch smiles regardless and leads him into the dark with baby steps. Jongdae lets his head fall forward, and as he watches his feet, he notices the slight glimmer of a sword at the other's hip. He swallows hard.
"...Why did you save me?" Jongdae questions quietly as the slight babble of a creek nears.
"Hm?" comes the response as the boy gently lowers Jongdae onto a rock, crouching down to pick at his dressing slightly before producing a small knife from his boot and cutting it off. Jongdae flinches, but otherwise stays still. "I saw what happened...You weren't trying to hurt Yixing."
At the mention of Yixing, Jongdae closes his eyes, brows furrowed.
"...Yifan killed my best friend," he continues nonchalantly, though when Jongdae looks up at him, he can see the hurt in his eyes. "So I killed Yifan."
Jongdae swallows hard, trying to advert his eyes. The boy grows quiet, getting the last of the bandages off and reaching in to poke gingerly at the ragged flesh of Jongdae's mutilated chest, earning a soft whimper from the brunette.
"...I made sure Yixing was safe," is all the other continues with before stepping back to strip himself of his shirt and pants, the sword leaning against the rock. When he pulls his boots off, Jongdae notices he leaves the strap holding his knife to his calf on, before he picks Jongdae up gingerly and guides him into the water. Jongdae tries his hardest not to look at his chest as the other boy finds a semi shallow part of the creek to set him down in, able to sit him up on a rock where he wouldn't fall down.
When he pulls away to wash himself first, Jongdae watches quietly, fear still pooling in his gut. He can't stop glancing to the sides, feeling awfully vulnerable.
"...My name is Zitao," the other suddenly speaks, and when Jongdae tears his eyes from a bush to look back at the other, the gaze he meets is intense. Jongdae doesn't say anything at first before nodding gently.
"Thank you, Zitao..." he speaks quietly, dropping his face. He can hear the other moving closer in the water, and soon there's a hand gently smoothing over his chest, cleaning the wound and the blood from his skin. Jongdae closes his eyes, brows furrowing in the dull pain.
"Your sponsors sent you some painkillers and these bandages...There's still enough left for a couple days. I confiscated your crowbar though, you know...just to be safe," Zitao spoke conversationally, and Jongdae shook his head quietly.
"I don't understand why people are sponsoring me. I'm not going to win this game," he laughs weakly, though there's no humor in it. Zitao smiles a little, playfully splashing Jongdae's cheek. Jongdae reels a bit, staring up at Zitao which earns a laugh from the taller boy. Jongdae softens, unable to help but smile back. Zitao's much less scary like this.
"You have sponsors because you're selfless, Jongdae," he speaks quietly. "You aren't playing this game for your life. Some people respect that."
Jongdae stays quiet before looking away. Zitao continues to smile, picking him up and leading him back out of the water. He sits Jongdae back down on the rock next to their clothes and rummages in his bag for a cloth. Drying them both off enough that their clothes wouldn't stick, he ties Jongdae's bloody shirt into a knot and tosses it into the creek to be carried off elsewhere. Zitao pulls his clothing back on, reattaches his sword to his hip, and scoops Jongdae back up gently, heading back towards the camp.
When they approach, the fire is dying and Jongin is withdrawn into himself, fingering a locket that Jongdae assumes must be his token. Jongdae's own token was lost when he ran from Joonmyun, and there's still a faint ache at the thought of that. Zitao sets him down next to the fire and moves to pick up a long box wrapped in an umbrella, the source of the beeping Jongdae'd heard earlier. Opening the package, Zitao pulls out a small jar of familiar salve, a large roll of bandages, and a small bottle of pills. He tosses the pills to Jongin who catches it easily without looking up and moves to grab his canteen. He isn't as gentle as Zitao when he forces him to take the medicine, and Jongdae's coughing slightly when he chokes on the water.
Zitao sighs, but says nothing as Jongin settles back into his reclusion, instead moving to help bandage Jongdae. Jongdae watches his hands move, brows furrowed. "What happens next...?" he questions gently, just loud enough for Zitao to hear.
"We wait for morning," Zitao murmurs quietly, not looking up from the salve he was spreading across Jongdae's wound. Jongdae nods gingerly, looking away. Zitao bandages him in silence, douses the fire, and shrugs out of his jacket to dress Jongdae in, helping the boy settle into a position to sleep.
"...How do you know I won't try to run as soon as you fall asleep?" Jongdae questions weakly when Zitao moves to settle into his sleeping bag, Jongin off to the right and keeping the first watch. Zitao turns to smile at him in the dark.
"Trust."
Jongdae frowns. "You can't trust anyone in this game," he protests.
"You'd be surprised," is all Zitao says before turning his back to Jongdae. Jongdae thinks he must be ridiculously stupid, but nonetheless, he's right, and he swallows hard, trying to close his eyes and sleep.
---
Morning comes as soon as he closes his eyes. Or at least, that's how it feels, and Jongdae squints against the brightness as he's jerked around roughly, and soon he's drowsily met with Zitao's face.
"Can you walk?" Zitao hisses out worriedly, hands tying up their pack and rewrapping Jongdae's sponsor's gift. Jongdae furrows his brow and nods a little. The pain is duller today. "Good."
"What's going on? Zitao?" Jongdae questions weakly, holding out his arm as Jongin pulls him to his feet, though he's quickly abandoned by the blonde. Zitao says nothing until he's gotten everything packed together, kicked over the ashes of their fire, and secured a backpack to Jongdae's back. He takes the older boy's hand and soon they're rushing behind Jongin and off into the woods.
"Joonmyun's near," Zitao finally explains with a frown.
Jongdae pales slightly and nods, swallowing the bile in his throat. "Let's go," he responds quietly, doing his best to keep up as Jongin navigates them through the woods. Jongdae isn't ready to meet up with Joonmyun again; not this soon. His brows furrow slightly.
No...The next time they meet, Jongdae's knife will be at his throat. He's sure of it. There's a new vigor in his steps, and soon, he's the one pulling Zitao towards Jongin. Zitao laughs quietly, and the smile stays as they escape.
Re: nothing to remember [team chenchen]
His breath was hot and the locker had long been wet and overpowered by the stench of copper, but Jongdae couldn't care less. He wanted to hide. Die in a corner in the dark where the cameras wouldn't see. Where his family and his district couldn't be embarrassed of him. He leans his head back, lets it knock gently against the warm metal of the locker, and closes his eyes, hand still clutching his sticky wound. He saw it coming. Knew he wouldn't last long.
His breaths come in short gasps, and he knows he's far too noisy; that anyone could come and find him like this, and off him for real, but he isn't so sure that'd be too bad. The pain is rather unbearable at this point.
It isn't until his ears grow foggy and his eyes start to slide shut that he swears there's a noise outside his locker. Jongdae isn't completely sure, but he fumbles to try to pull the locker door shut just a little more, fingers falling short with a soft gurgle.
The door pulls open and Jongdae closes his eyes, welcoming death and the cold breeze, hoping whoever it was would be merciful enough to make it quick. He feels nothing as he blacks out.
---
Jongdae's not so sure he's dead anymore when the faint, steady sound of beeping reaches his ears and his chest feels tight. The pain is still there, but it's dull now, as if something had muted it. He stays still, listening first. There's a quiet crackle, like a fire, and after a long moment, a rustle of someone shifting positions. Jongdae's suddenly aware that he isn't alone. And he's weaponless.
He cracks open an eye, the fire a good fifteen feet away, and the dark of a hunched silhouette beside it. Jongdae can't see his face from here. But he's facing away from him and as Jongdae opens both his eyes he peers down to see he's been stripped of his shirt. A tight white bandage wraps around his chest, explaining the tight compression he'd felt, and there's only a couple spots of red. His hands are still crusted with blood as are his stained pants. But at least he isn't bound, and Jongdae nearly tuts at his idiotic captor. Who would bother to save him and not even tie him up in a game of betrayers?
Holding his breath, Jongdae tries to roll to the side, wincing. When he manages to get on his left and try to push himself up quietly, a hand clamps over his mouth sharply from behind, sufficiently stopping the scream that tries to escape from both the pain and the unexpected face in his own.
Dark, sharp eyes stare into him, assessing him, and Jongdae suddenly wishes he'd died back in that locker. Even in the dark, Jongdae can feel the danger emanating from this boy with his dark locks and the bags beneath his eyes convince him that this boy hasn't slept at all.
Heart racing, Jongdae slackens in his captor's hold, staring up at the other boy in terror. The boy continues to stare before he looks up at whoever was behind Jongdae and whispers a gentle, "You can let him go." His voice is high and soft, and Jongdae's slightly taken aback.
"How do you know he isn't going to try to attack us? Or run?" comes the low voice behind him, close to his ear. Jongdae's eyebrows move upwards and he looks down at his chest with an expression of incredulity.
The boy in front of him smirks a little before looking back at the one behind him. "I don't think he could."
After a long moment, the hand around Jongdae's mouth slowly pulls away and he's abandoned to slump forward with a quiet whimper.
"Be quiet," the voice behind him hisses, and Jongdae turns just enough to catch a flash of blonde hair and puffy red eyes before the lean boy is retreating to his place beside the fire. In the flickering light, Jongdae can make out his tanned skin and taut muscles, and it's slightly unnerving.
"You're Jongdae, right?" the softspoken boy in front of him questions, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.
"The one and only," Jongdae murmurs a little, trying to sit up with a wince. The boy kneels beside him, throwing his arm around his waist gently. Jongdae goes rigid, but the other seemingly ignores him as he positions Jongdae's arm over his shoulders and lifts him carefully.
Jongdae chokes on a sob as the pain sears through his chest. The other furrows his brow a moment before glancing back at the fire.
"Jongin..." he calls gently. "He's going to need more of the painkillers. I'm going to wash him up for new dressing."
If Jongin hears, he certainly doesn't respond, but Jongdae's current crutch smiles regardless and leads him into the dark with baby steps. Jongdae lets his head fall forward, and as he watches his feet, he notices the slight glimmer of a sword at the other's hip. He swallows hard.
"...Why did you save me?" Jongdae questions quietly as the slight babble of a creek nears.
"Hm?" comes the response as the boy gently lowers Jongdae onto a rock, crouching down to pick at his dressing slightly before producing a small knife from his boot and cutting it off. Jongdae flinches, but otherwise stays still. "I saw what happened...You weren't trying to hurt Yixing."
At the mention of Yixing, Jongdae closes his eyes, brows furrowed.
"...Yifan killed my best friend," he continues nonchalantly, though when Jongdae looks up at him, he can see the hurt in his eyes. "So I killed Yifan."
Jongdae swallows hard, trying to advert his eyes. The boy grows quiet, getting the last of the bandages off and reaching in to poke gingerly at the ragged flesh of Jongdae's mutilated chest, earning a soft whimper from the brunette.
"...I made sure Yixing was safe," is all the other continues with before stepping back to strip himself of his shirt and pants, the sword leaning against the rock. When he pulls his boots off, Jongdae notices he leaves the strap holding his knife to his calf on, before he picks Jongdae up gingerly and guides him into the water. Jongdae tries his hardest not to look at his chest as the other boy finds a semi shallow part of the creek to set him down in, able to sit him up on a rock where he wouldn't fall down.
When he pulls away to wash himself first, Jongdae watches quietly, fear still pooling in his gut. He can't stop glancing to the sides, feeling awfully vulnerable.
"...My name is Zitao," the other suddenly speaks, and when Jongdae tears his eyes from a bush to look back at the other, the gaze he meets is intense. Jongdae doesn't say anything at first before nodding gently.
"Thank you, Zitao..." he speaks quietly, dropping his face. He can hear the other moving closer in the water, and soon there's a hand gently smoothing over his chest, cleaning the wound and the blood from his skin. Jongdae closes his eyes, brows furrowing in the dull pain.
"Your sponsors sent you some painkillers and these bandages...There's still enough left for a couple days. I confiscated your crowbar though, you know...just to be safe," Zitao spoke conversationally, and Jongdae shook his head quietly.
"I don't understand why people are sponsoring me. I'm not going to win this game," he laughs weakly, though there's no humor in it. Zitao smiles a little, playfully splashing Jongdae's cheek. Jongdae reels a bit, staring up at Zitao which earns a laugh from the taller boy. Jongdae softens, unable to help but smile back. Zitao's much less scary like this.
"You have sponsors because you're selfless, Jongdae," he speaks quietly. "You aren't playing this game for your life. Some people respect that."
Jongdae stays quiet before looking away. Zitao continues to smile, picking him up and leading him back out of the water. He sits Jongdae back down on the rock next to their clothes and rummages in his bag for a cloth. Drying them both off enough that their clothes wouldn't stick, he ties Jongdae's bloody shirt into a knot and tosses it into the creek to be carried off elsewhere. Zitao pulls his clothing back on, reattaches his sword to his hip, and scoops Jongdae back up gently, heading back towards the camp.
When they approach, the fire is dying and Jongin is withdrawn into himself, fingering a locket that Jongdae assumes must be his token. Jongdae's own token was lost when he ran from Joonmyun, and there's still a faint ache at the thought of that. Zitao sets him down next to the fire and moves to pick up a long box wrapped in an umbrella, the source of the beeping Jongdae'd heard earlier. Opening the package, Zitao pulls out a small jar of familiar salve, a large roll of bandages, and a small bottle of pills. He tosses the pills to Jongin who catches it easily without looking up and moves to grab his canteen. He isn't as gentle as Zitao when he forces him to take the medicine, and Jongdae's coughing slightly when he chokes on the water.
Zitao sighs, but says nothing as Jongin settles back into his reclusion, instead moving to help bandage Jongdae. Jongdae watches his hands move, brows furrowed. "What happens next...?" he questions gently, just loud enough for Zitao to hear.
"We wait for morning," Zitao murmurs quietly, not looking up from the salve he was spreading across Jongdae's wound. Jongdae nods gingerly, looking away. Zitao bandages him in silence, douses the fire, and shrugs out of his jacket to dress Jongdae in, helping the boy settle into a position to sleep.
"...How do you know I won't try to run as soon as you fall asleep?" Jongdae questions weakly when Zitao moves to settle into his sleeping bag, Jongin off to the right and keeping the first watch. Zitao turns to smile at him in the dark.
"Trust."
Jongdae frowns. "You can't trust anyone in this game," he protests.
"You'd be surprised," is all Zitao says before turning his back to Jongdae. Jongdae thinks he must be ridiculously stupid, but nonetheless, he's right, and he swallows hard, trying to close his eyes and sleep.
---
Morning comes as soon as he closes his eyes. Or at least, that's how it feels, and Jongdae squints against the brightness as he's jerked around roughly, and soon he's drowsily met with Zitao's face.
"Can you walk?" Zitao hisses out worriedly, hands tying up their pack and rewrapping Jongdae's sponsor's gift. Jongdae furrows his brow and nods a little. The pain is duller today. "Good."
"What's going on? Zitao?" Jongdae questions weakly, holding out his arm as Jongin pulls him to his feet, though he's quickly abandoned by the blonde. Zitao says nothing until he's gotten everything packed together, kicked over the ashes of their fire, and secured a backpack to Jongdae's back. He takes the older boy's hand and soon they're rushing behind Jongin and off into the woods.
"Joonmyun's near," Zitao finally explains with a frown.
Jongdae pales slightly and nods, swallowing the bile in his throat. "Let's go," he responds quietly, doing his best to keep up as Jongin navigates them through the woods. Jongdae isn't ready to meet up with Joonmyun again; not this soon. His brows furrow slightly.
No...The next time they meet, Jongdae's knife will be at his throat. He's sure of it. There's a new vigor in his steps, and soon, he's the one pulling Zitao towards Jongin. Zitao laughs quietly, and the smile stays as they escape.