if this moment passes,
what if it gets far away?

Not even a few minutes after the introduction, my manager had politely yet authoritatively asked me to leave the room. Still baffled, I obliged, turning to glance at Taeyong one last time before leaving, maybe to satisfy my craving heart, so it could at least hope to realize the fact that he was alive. That I had, through blood and fire, managed to save him.

His eyes met mine, and there was a dullness in them very much unlike the brightness I had seen reflected inside when I'd first opened my eyes in the hospital. It could have been a warning, but he was too inanimate for it to be that.

He shared a long, meaningful look with the man sitting at the foot, and something like understanding passed between them. Biting my lip, I looked away. Not yet. I was too giddy with relief for any more riddles.

With a sigh, I pushed through the doors, unable to keep my hands from shaking. My nerves were frayed, from fear and favour, and distinctly, I found myself wondering about the hospital. How had they managed to get him in here? And why did the place, or at least this floor, seem so empty?

I shuddered, as if ridding myself of the invasive questions. At this point, I didn't even care to question something I did not want to know the answer to.

Slowly, I walked down the seemingly never-ending hallway, trying to steady my hair before I faced anyone else. The other racers would have known about their manager's return, if he truly had been missing and not in hiding. And if the manager was here, then the bikers couldn't be far behind.

Or maybe something else was coming.

I stopped in my tracks at the thought, shaking my head firmly. I couldn't afford to think like that. Through the past events, my mind had been in so much turmoil. It was better to snatch whatever peace I could get, even if it was as fleeting as that night.

My jacket was gone, and the t-shirt I had worn underneath was blackened in some places, as if they had been licked by the hungry flames when I hadn't noticed. Apart from my hands, which stung a little every time I held something, I was relatively unscathed. Luckily.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't notice when I reached the an occupied bench. If it hadn't been for the foot threatening to spill me onto the floor in an accidental trip, I wouldn't have noticed the figure in dark clothing, even if he stood out painfully against the starkness of the white walls.

"Well," the voice spoke up, and I looked up in shock. "Aren't you even going to greet your old man?"

For a long moment, I was frozen. Wide awake, all other thoughts and worries dispelled from my mind as I looked at the man sitting in front of me, his smile warm and a little said. Pained. Maybe this isn't real, my cynical mind whispered. Maybe you're dreaming again—

Tentative, I reached out, just to test if my hand would pass through the open palm he held out to me. The same salt-and-pepper hair, the same worry lines around his eyes that folded and deepened and he smiled. My fingers brushed real, warm skin.

I choked back a sob. "Dad."

At that moment, I didn't even care about the secrets I had been meaning to hide, about how unaffected he looked despite my shaken condition, the bandages around my hands. I lunged forward, pain shooting up my bones as my knees hit the floor, ignoring the sting in my palms and I fisted my hands around his jacket and hugged him. "Dad, oh god, I thought they took you."

His hands, strong and familiar, stroked circles into my back. "I'm right here," he said gently, though his voice was tinged with pain, as if he was holding back some secrets of his own. "I know. I know."

The relief that rose up inside me was immediate and delicate, like it was waiting for the catch. Everything else felt unreal, except my father and the smile he always saved for me—the smile I hadn't seen him smile for so long.

I don't know how long I stayed there, clutching him, like I was afraid that he would slip through my grasp again. For a second, I wondered if this was what he had felt like when I'd crashed the cruiser back in Daejeon and had still come out alive—like my heart had swelled to a thousand times its size, choking me up from the inside.

As I sat next to him, moments later, I realized that the pain in my chest, like the cut of a dull knife, was relief. The worry and heartache had been cut away, leaving a lightness that needed time for me to adjust to it.

My hand still held on to the tail of his jacket, like I was nine again, holding on to him so that I wouldn't get lost in the supermarket. This time, I didn't want to lose him a second time, because I knew I wouldn't be able to function properly if I did.

As the initial shock of happiness faded, reality rolled over me in waves. There was a distance between my father and my own self, between my and my family, that couldn't be breached. It was like the fatigue after a sugar rush, like the tiredness after a sprint. All it took to pull me down was the singular thought that things could never possibly be the same anymore.

I felt hollow again. The joy in me shimmered like the thin layer of clear water, hiding a monstrous sea.

Even if my father hadn't spoken about the racers, I knew that he was aware of everything. I wasn't sure what his role in all of this was, and why he wasn't reprimanding me—maybe it was only for now, the way it had been with me, relief overpowering every other emotion, like locking everything in a chest for later use.

But now, the moment was broken.

I had to break the news of us leaving.

"Dad, about the whole hospital thing..." I started, biting my lip. "I can't exactly explain, but I have a feeling you know what I'm talking about."

Using the word 'dad' felt like taking something old out of your childhood toys and paying with it. The syllable was rusty in my mouth, and I wanted to keep saying it, over and over, to remind myself that I wasn't alone even if I had to leave. And I wasn't leaving without my father. Baekhyun could go around with a stick up his ass for all I cared.

He was the only family I had left, the only one I had an obligation to unconditionally trust.

"Unfortunately, I do," he said, his mouth set in a grim line. His eyes looked older and sadder, as if he had aged a hundred years while he was gone. "And you don't need to explain for now. I know neither of us can deal with conversation at the moment."

I knew was right. He knew that I did. But it was hard enough to keep from telling him everything that had happened, just to lighten my burden by revealing it to the one person who knew me, possibly better than I knew myself.

"These are dangerous times," he said, in the manner of someone who knew fully well what dangerous times were. "Too much is at stake, and though it would have been easier at the sidelines, the entire game is pivoted around us. The only thing we can work for is finding a way out."

Because we're not strong enough to fight.

My lips curled into a bitter smile as I remembered Baekhyun's words again. "About that, dad, there's something—"

"I know." He paused, and a sudden fire lit up in his eyes, like someone had broken the emergency window inside his mind. He sat up straighter, and turned me towards himself, his grip firmer and gentler than any other. "Listen. There's something you need to know."

──────

"No one needs to know."

The words were casual, much like last-minute additions thrown over your shoulder, not meant to be serious at all. However, the mouth that had just spoken them was now flat, lips a thin line hiding a knowing grimness.

The woman behind the counter nodded, jaw moving slowly as she chewed on the gum that had been inside her mouth for most of the conversation. Baekhyun's eyes were flat as he turned, the fresh breeze that greeted him on opening the door tousling his pale blonde hair, like thin strands of alloyed gold.

He cast a precarious glance around the neighborhood, a gesture that seemed uncaring but enabled him to observe whoever could have been waiting for him to exit the otherwise innocuous-looking shop. Shouldering his dark windbreaker over his shoulder, he stepped down to the street, letting the door swing shut behind him.

He knew that he probably wasn't alone.

Thankfully, the documents were well-hidden in the safe house, and there were no chances of them being found by the ones looking. Baekhyun didn't care much for himself at this point, as long as he was able to fulfill his one goal, but he knew that the risks were too obvious and too dangerous to be taken.

He finally knew.

As a person who considered knowing to be one of his most formidable assets, Baekhyun took great pride in being an informant for his own satisfaction more than anything else. This time, however, was different. His heart was cold as he walked down the shadowy street, knowing that this was too big to simply be a form of entertainment.

Too much was at stake—maybe even lives.

He heard the crunch if dead leaves before he saw his pursuer, an unrecognizable figure hidden away in the cloak of the night. Baekhyun tensed as the two collided, his back hitting the side of his car with a soft noise too painful to the ears in the quietude of a place like this.

He kept his face closed despite the cold sweat on his brow, feeling the even colder metal cut into the skin of his forehead. His attacker's movements were sharp and precise, leaving no room for escape.

"Did you really think you could plan to take her away, right in front of me, and I would go along with your shit?" The man snarled, fingers pale and exposed under the fingerless gloves opening and closing around the barrel of the gun.

Baekhyun knew that he should be uncaring, contemptuous in the face of death, but his heart still clenched in his chest, cold at the thought of meeting the further.

He kept his eyes on the man's narrowed ones, angular and sharp like a performer's, the rest of his face hidden behind a black mask. I trusted the wrong person. "I should've known about your motive."

The man lifted him slightly off of the car and slammed his head back into it. Unable to hide a wince, Baekhyun bared his teeth in a sneer, his eyes going cold. "Exactly," the assailant replied, voice raspy and low. "Where are the documents?"

"Your mutts should be able to smell them out," he replied tonelessly.

The man scoffed, chest rising and falling in enraged gasps. "And where do you think you're going?"

Gathering the last of his strength, Baekhyun gripped the man's collar, pulling him closer to himself, placing his own lips against his ear. "Hell," he rasped, voice whisery, knowing them to be his last words. Make it count.

He would make it count.

With a last, rare smile, Baekhyun continued.

"See you there."

──────

THEORY TIME, DROP 'EM HERE KIDS

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(and ily thank you guys so much for 400k i'm crying)