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Jaemin's breathing was shallow and laboured, his lungs destroyed from stale, underground air and painful screams. As much as he was at a stage where he wanted to throw in the towel and admit defeat...he knew he'd be kept alive to suffer and suffer until finally his heart told him 'no more'. So, as one last valiant push to the finish line, he was either going to get the hell out of there, or die trying. Whatever happened first.

Renjun had broken down into messy tears around and hour and a half ago, ranting relentlessly with incoherent sentences. Some about Mark, some about Donghyuck, some not even relevant to anything. Jaemin had sat there and listened to all of it even when he really didn't want to. The flip side of this mid-life crisis the Chinese boy had experienced in his early twenties, was that he wore himself out and fell asleep relatively easily to the side of the room.

His scissors were grasped lightly in his hands, and gentle breaths mixed with small words tumbled from his pretty lips that typically spat nothing but hatred. The blonde blinked a few times to clear his foggy vision and rubbed his cheek off his shoulder in order to crack some of the dry blood from his face. This was going to be tough, but nobody ever told Na Jaemin that life was easy.

Over the course of the past day or two, the young adult had been working on the remarkably robust ropes restraining his wrists. Every few minutes he'd drag them up and down, side to side, back and forth all to weaken their hold. His skin was a sight to behold, actually. The rough fabric had worn and rubbed the soft tissue so badly he could see sections of raw muscle beneath a hell of a lot of scabs and blood. At this point he couldn't have given a rat's ass, and needed to escape before he lost his mind and started talking to walls too.

Unfortunately, reality wasn't as simple as a movie most of the time, and heroic acts like weakening ropes were next to impossible when the protagonist (or antagonist, in this case) was near death. His wrists weren't free, but they had much more mobility to do the one thing he'd been planning since he'd wound up in this hell-hole. His special little bracelet that's sister piece was wrapped around Donghyuck's wrist was now jingling melodically, begging him to use it.

Here goes nothing, he breathed in quickly, shoving the distress signal's latch against the arm of the chair and smiling victoriously when the little light started to blink. It didn't make noise, thankfully, but he was certain his boyfriend's would wherever he may have been. God, he wanted to hold that man in his arms again feel his affectionate touch. Hell, Donghyuck would probably take one look at him and cringe - his new scars and missing finger.

I'm here, Baby, he spoke to himself internally while eyeing Renjun worriedly and begging him to remain out-cold for a while longer. Come and find me.

•

Donghyuck stared listlessly at the crackling fire engulfing Park Jisung's corpse. It was the day of his cremation, and the secret mafia leader wasn't even sure why he attended. Half of him knew he wouldn't be able to take watching his beloved friend's body disintegrate and leave this unforgiving world....yet the other half told him he'd have been a coward and a fool to miss his funeral. He'd regret it for the rest of his life...

The air was thick with misery as he scanned the red and rosy faces of the boy's family, each sobbing uncontrollably for their precious baby boy to come back. He didn't deserve death. It came too soon. He was treated unfairly. The murderer was never investigated. Hyuck had heard it all before, but each time those thoughts arose within, he'd almost boil over from rage. He needed closure....he wanted proof that someone from Jupiter had done this.

The way the male's heart throbbed and ached in his chest was rough, he wound admit. Renjun and Jaemin always had told him he was too soft for his own good...for being a leader. He needed to clip those heartstrings apparently, but really didn't want to. The humanity he held made his life more bearable - more worth it.

As he started to take a few hesitant steps backwards and away from the group of mourning people who would come to him repeatedly to console him, a vibration against his hand snapped him from his daze and had the brunette yanking his arm up to check the bracelet he'd never parted with.

Holy mother of God! Donghyuck gasped internally, eyes widening exponentially as he listened to the beautiful thing beep. Dear Lord, he hadn't heard something so wonderful before in his life, and immediately took action after bowing respectfully to the family and sprinting off to wherever the bracelet would guide him. The sound would ease, then increase and vary with every step he took, every move he made. His heart was pounding so rapidly against his ribs he almost hadn't computed with what the hell he was doing. This was one giant risk.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, he repeated to himself over and over as the buildings passed him by, pedestrians sharing odd looks towards his frantic form out of normality. His brain had a searing imprint of his beloved Jaemin blinding his eyes, his low voice whispering in his ear that this horrible slump in his life was about to end and that all could return to normal.

The further he got, the more desolate the surrounding area became, and the more apparent that this was all very much planned came to light. There was no way Jaemin was simply lost or hiding....He'd been taken here, no doubt. Damn it, had Renjun been abducted as well? Was he about to be blackmailed with the only two living people in his life who mattered to him now? Nothing was certain, but he was ready to fight to the death to have his boys back.

•

Jaemin's head lulled to the side as fatigue worked its way across his entire being. His eyes would settle on Renjun, then the bracelet, and finally the smaller male again. Everything was blacking out and blurring, and it was growing evermore difficult to remain conscious. When would his love arrive? When would that psycho wake up? Would he himself awaken this time if he fell asleep? Could his stomach handle anymore disgusting, stale food?

Damn, this was so hard. So pointless. What would he do when he got out anyway?

His eyes fluttered tiredly against the will of his brain....and so they closed. The pain was numb now. A nice feeling, really.

A calm, nothing feeling.

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