Archive of Our Own

Chan was always tired. He had to fight off criminals daily, go on patrols, go to press conferences, galas where he watched the smaller heroes bootlick some rich sponsors in the hope of getting a slither of financial support. His schedule was packed with additional training to keep his shape and keep getting better. He barely had any time to sleep or even sit down a second to breathe. 

But he handled it. 

He had been in this profession for almost 6 years already and even if that was a small number for a superhero he got his recognition. Such recognition that he even got to be a mentor at barely 24 where other heroes got their own apprentice in their mid to late thirties. 

Chan couldn't really boast about it . The world had been a mess lately, criminals got more dangerous, a whole organization to take them, the heroes, down got created. And the problem was that they worked. They got results. They had managed to beat to death 5 heroes already and publicly executed one of the top 10. Heroes after heroes started quitting out of fear, leaving them all understaffed with a bunch of new graduates.

And that was how Chan ended up mentoring so young. 

He didn't mind. It was just another thing to his workload and kept him busy from thinking about death looming over his head. Even if this was pushed on him without prior arrangement it was fine. 

Came the day he had to choose his apprentice in a practice room full of people around his age. What were they in their teenage years to early twenties? It felt strange but Chan had to keep his head high. At first he thought practicality: it would be preferable to pick someone with power that would match his, someone who could keep up with him so he would be able to guide that kid the best he could. Things didn't go as planned of course. He should have known he would listen to his heart before his logic so the second he saw Yang Jeongin stare at him with the sparkliest of eyes while hiding behind his comrades, he selected him. 

Chan was a weak man. 

His choice was reinforced by the shocked look on the graduates’ professor's face. Jeongin has apparently been one of the worst trainees they’d ever got. The complete opposite of Chan's flawless report from his years as a trainee. Chan expected any reason for Jeongin being considered such a “bad” student but he didn't expect it to be a low pain tolerance, skin that bruised easily and a non-offensive power. His scores during tests were far from good because of this but Chan knew to look beyond that. 

And he learnt he was right to do so during their first combat against a villain where Jeongin dodged every single attack. Acting swiftly to spin on his heel just as he was about to get struck. Crouching right on time and tripping his opponent with ease. Chan was honestly baffled to even think he was one of the worst trainees but then he remembered how their tests were heavily close combat based. 

Those tests were always stupid to him. One of them had trainees use their close combat skills and ability to fight against a dummy. Meaning that anyone with mind based abilities would get points crumbs against a kid who could throw a fireball. 

Jeongin had an ability simply named as “Scent” in his report. They hadn't had any occasion to use it yet but according to the younger he was able to see scents connected to individuals which made him able to track criminals and allies in need. 

Jeongin used it to track Chan in the hero tower and attach himself at his hips more than anything but he would not comment on that. 

Coming back to his original topic, Chan was always tired. But today he was more than usual. His brain try to scramble for any link between his current state and the past events. 

He had not slept much the night before. Maybe two or three hours? Maybe one actually. He hadn't slept well the past few days before either but this was the usual. He was used to barely 18 hours of sleep a week. The world did not wait for him to sleep. He had pushed through those hours of sleep before and done just fine so he could chalk it off. 

Chan wondered if he had eaten and drunk water before leaving for patrol today. His stomach felt a bit empty but it was still relatively fine. He also had Jeongin with him. Jeongin would never let him leave for patrol without filling his stomach with food and making sure he brought two bottles of water. So it couldn't be that, could it? 

Chan started feeling a pulsing behind his eyes and halted his steps, raising a hand to signal Jeongin that they were taking a break. The pain in his head felt like a minuscule man in his skull was playing around sculpting the front of his brain. 

Chan let out a groan. 

“Hyung…? Are you alright?” Jeongin asked concern etched into his features. 

“Yes. Don't worry about me. Just sit down two seconds if you need. We're…” his throat felt dry, “taking a break.”

Maybe it was the fight he had been in the day before. The villain was much stronger than Jeongin's level so he had to take on her while protecting his apprentice from harm. Jeongin had insisted he fought by Chan's side. Insisted he could take the hits but Chan had quickly shoved him away and started fighting. He took a lot of hits that day and maybe overexerted his ability a bit but he was fine in the end. Chan didn't feel the need to pass by the medical wing. 

They both sat down in silence. Chan closed his eyes, lifting his nose to the sky and took small careful breaths in. He felt the pounding in his head calm down to a bearable level. He had pushed through worse; He could handle a headache for an hour more of patrol. What kind of hero would that make him if he went home for the slightest inconvenience. The next criminal would not wait for him to get better to assault a civilian so why should he? 

Jeongin extended him a water bottle and Chan took it graciously, gulping down the water as fast as humanly possible. Where he thought the water would relieve him, it sent a wave of nausea up his throat making him grimace. 

Fuck. 

“Hyung, I know you told me not to worry but you're very pale…”

Chan huffed and ruffled the younger's hair. “Don't worry, ayen. I'm just a little sick but I've gone through worse.”

Like that fight the day before. Chan wanted to add but Jeongin had been pretty upset he had to sit this one out. He wasn't going to twist the knife. 

“Are you sure? We can probably cut today's patrol short–”

“No,” Chan abruptly said before catching himself, “I mean, it's really nothing. I've been in this for 6 years. You can trust I know my limits.”

They couldn't take a break. And especially right now. Even if Chan tried to ignore it most of the time, the crime rate had climbed since heroes started getting murdered. Criminals got more confident that heroes weren't actually that invincible and started getting wilder. The streets were more unsafe than ever and most importantly they were understaffed. Chan couldn't allow himself a break because that would be lazy of him. Rest would mean someone else had to cover his shift. While everyone was moving their ass having an actual good reason to be tired, Chan would be in bed watching them do his job. 

And if they didn't deem him capable enough they would take Jeongin away from his mentorship and that was the worst scenario that could happen to Chan. Jeongin was his student. They'd barely been together two months but he was already dear to him; almost like family. Minho literally invited him over for dinner more nights than not. They had a guest bedroom that was basically his at this point. Chan had never gotten attached to someone this fast and that was a lot to say considering him. 

Chan was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't register Jeongin had walked closer, snapping his eyes up only when the younger put his cold hand on Chan's forehead. Chan let out a sigh of relief, not even registering how much he needed it. 

Jeongin frowned. “Hyung, you're burning up.”

“I'm probably just hot to your hand because it's cold outside.”

Maybe it was because it was winter and Chan dealt very badly with temperature changes. 

“Hyung,” Jeongin whined. 

“I.N if you don't stop pushing I will just send you back to the tower doing case paperwork for the next week. I said it was fine.”

Chan anchored one foot on the floor and pulled his whole weight off of it before seeing spots dance across his vision. 

Clearly not fine. 

Chan would deal with it. 

He was just dizzy, felt like throwing up and literally saw black spots. But as long as he pretended well enough everything was fine then Jeongin would leave him alone. 

They went on with their patrol and knew it would be time for them to climb up on the buildings’ roofs soon. They always started on the ground so that people could know they were out to protect them then switched to roofs to get a better view of what was happening in the city. Not all heroes could do this, some lacking the ability to reach any roof. Jeongin was one of those heroes so Chan would either have to carry him while jumping up buildings or would have to leave him on the floor. But Jeongin was still a rookie so he would not do the latter. 

Chan internally cringed at the idea of carrying more than his own weight. He could barely make a step in front of the other without his legs turning into spaghetti. It was one jump. He had done plenty more of those during fights with a literal twisted ankle shooting pain to his skull. He could deal with one jump. 

Jeongin lightly tapped on his shoulder and Chan had to turn his head slowly in order to not send his vision into a black sphere. 

“Minho-hyung,” the younger simply said before pointing at an unnaturally moving shadow. 

Of course. 

Minho and his damn 6th my-husband-is-doing-something-dumb sense. 

Minho had been a hero too. That was until he just quit. Chan never understood what happened. He remembered coming home to something painfully normal: Minho curled up on the couch, two cats stacked on his chest like usual, the soft glow of the TV reflecting off his face. No injuries. No limp. His husband didn't even raise his eyes from the TV before blurting out. 

“I’m quitting.”

Chan never got the reason out of him. He could only theorise what it might be because everytime the topic was brought up the conversation dissolved into an argument.

Chan approached the shadows and crouched to pet one of them. The shadow slowly turned from an undefined shape into pointy ears, whiskers and a tail. Still a shadow but a cat shadow. 

“Hi, Dori, why did your owner send you over now?” Chan asked fondly. 

Chan had gotten to know Minho's shadows very early after meeting Minho himself. Their dorm had a strict no pets policy so when Chan saw a shadowy cat emerge from the shadow between the door and the wall he couldn't help but startle at the sight. Minho didn't get in trouble. He couldn't, that was just his ability and he chose what its shape would be. It wasn't their business that the cat butler chose the shape of, well, a cat. Minho introduced him as Soonie, who had been there since he was 11. 

None of the shadow cats felt like real cats. They did meow and purr like cats but they felt cold to the touch and petting them felt like caressing sand. If you pushed a bit too hard your hand would go through. The amount of times Chan got clawed for not paying attention to how much pressure he was putting on Soonie, Doongie or Dori's back should never be counted. 

Dori meowed and pushed his little head into Chan's palm making the latter giggle. 

“Tell your mother hen of an owner that Innie and I are fine.”

Dori cocked his head to the side before walking back into the shadow. Chan could still see the slightly darker stain of shadow telling him Dori did not leave and sighed. He wouldn't get rid of Minho that easily. 

Chan lifted himself off the ground and immediately stumbled into the younger's arms. Jeongin’s hand shot out to steady him, fingers curling around Chan’s elbow. He blinked hard, trying to clear the gray creeping into his vision as a wave of nausea rolled through him. 

He couldn't let Jeongin notice. 

“My legs must have gone numb from crouching,” Chan spun around, the motion made the ground sway under his feet, but he didn’t let his expression falter. He forced a smile and ruffled Jeongin's hair, “you take the floor and I take the roofs today? I think that you've been under my mentoring long enough to stray more than a meter away from me now, don't you think?”

Jeongin's eyes shone with a new light the second Chan said this. He could almost see the excitement bubble under his skin. Jeongin was a patient person. After all, him being one of the oldest trainees gave that away. He never asked for more responsibility, never complained about staying close to Chan, but Chan knew he wanted the chance. He’d worked hard for it.

A wicked part of Chan hoped it would be enough to distract him from his sorry state. 

Chan leaped on top of the nearest building. For the few seconds his body floated through the air, he felt lighter than ever and wondered if it wouldn't be that bad if he just kept jumping over and over again until everything was done. Jumping was usually when he felt the most at peace. His mind was clear for just a few seconds as the wind slapped through his blond curls. 

His feet hit the roof and for a second nothing hurt. Then everything did. Chan felt a shudder of pain tear through him as the impact went straight through his legs to his head. His vision blurred, heat rushed through his skull, and his knees hit the asphalt before he realized he was falling. For a second he didn't register Jeongin's alarmed cries from below. 

It was fine. 

He would get back on his feet. 

He just needed a second to close his eyes and breathe. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

What the heck was his body doing acting like such a twig about to break? Chan had pushed through worse. Gosh, he had literally carried on a whole fight with a bullet through his leg. He had attended a whole gala on high alert while still half-blinded from yet another fight with a villain. He had taken an insane amount of work after Minho quit that he had to finish in barely a week. He had dealt with petty headaches during patrols. Why was this one worse than the other time? Why was his fuckass body collapsing on itself? He was just playing the weakling right now. Jeongin was literally here, he couldn't let him down. 

If he collapsed now, Jeongin would never trust you again. The Committee would hear about it. They’d think they promoted him too early. They’d take him away. And all because he couldn’t handle a simple patrol? Pathetic.

Chan tried to push himself up, but his arm slipped on the cold sweat coating his skin. He lurched sideways, the movement sending a sharp bolt of pain through his skull as his head hit the asphalt.

White flashed across his vision and he was out before he could register the footsteps quickly approaching him. 

__________________________________

Jeongin sat by Chan's bed in the medical wing. Leg shaking, hands fidgeting and checking the time over and over again. 

He had called Minho the second he was sure Chan was in good hands. Minho had been pissed to say the least, worried most importantly. No one outside of Jeongin contacted him, which was to be expected since he got black listed after quitting being a hero. They had a no contact clause if a hero decided to leave before the end of their contract. And no contact apparently also meant “we're not telling you that your husband lost consciousness.”

Minho was also forbidden from entering the building. 

He asked him to just update him as much as he could about Chan's state and it was the least that he could do with how much both of them did for him. He would stay until the staff physically kicked him out of the room. 

Jeongin hesitantly reached out his hand to hold Chan's. His hand was cold but he guessed anyone in his state would have ice cold hands. He gave it a small squeeze. 

Doctors had come back into the room just a few minutes before and explained Chan's state. Extremely medical. Jeongin hated it. 

“He’s stable. He collapsed because he’s been pushing far beyond his limits. The fall caused a brief loss of consciousness, but we’ve ruled out immediate danger.”

“He's not in a coma so you don't need to worry. He'll wake up on his own but we cannot determine when exactly. Could be from a few hours to a day.”

Jeongin silently listened to the steady beep of the heart monitor to distract himself from the paler of his hyung's skin or how weak his breathing sounded if he listened close enough. 

The hospital room felt extremely lonely. Jeongin hoped he would be there by the time Chan woke up. Maybe his hyung might want a hug. Jeongin wasn't much of a hugger but if he could offer help in any way then he would take it. 

He squeezed Chan's hand one more time. 

He'd messed up. 

He shouldn't have listened to Chan when he kept saying he was alright. He got so excited about making progress that for a second he forgot he was supposed to worry about his hyung turning as white as a sheet. 

Now they were here.

He thought he would finally prove himself now that he went from hero in training to hero apprentice. He had already started later than others and with the disadvantage of having a non combat based power, he thought he could do something under a mentor who believed him. And then he failed him. 

He didn't run fast enough to the ladder by the side of the building. He didn't climb fast enough. He fell from the ladder in his panic. Dammit he didn't even have the reflex to contact the tower through com to call for help. It took until he realised he couldn't bring them back down on the floor together for him to call them. 

All protocols left his head the second he saw his hyung in danger and he could not feel more ashamed. 

He broke so many rules. The protocols would have stated he should have returned to finish the patrol once Chan was left with the medic but he had begged them to take him with them instead. He couldn't even finish what Chan had put so much effort into finishing. 

He was a failure of an apprentice. How many times had Chan told him to put himself before him just for Jeongin to do the total opposite. 

Jeongin tapped his nail on the metal of the chair he was sitting on. It wasn't comfortable but he wasn't about to complain now. His back only hurt just a little. He could bear it. Chan bore through worse and here Jeongin was about to whine about a tiny little chair with an uncomfortable cushion. 

He let his gaze stray across the room. There were other injured heroes, some lightly chatting and patching each other up, some getting used to what seemed to be a new prosthetic. He sighed and turned back to Chan. 

Something bugged him. 

The pillow under his head looked uncomfortable. 

He wouldn't want his mentor to wake up with a sore neck on top of everything. 

Jeongin quickly got up from his chair, carefully lifted Chan's head from the pillow and adjusted it. 

It still didn't look comfortable enough. Maybe with two pillows… 

There were less medics and nurses at this hour. Late night patrols usually involved less dangerous crimes since villains loved theatrics and theatrics didn't really work during the night where no one could see anything. Jeongin never understood but he could respect the dedication. 

He ventured through the medical wing, glancing left and right for any room or cupboard that possibly could hold a cushion before quickly realising the extra ones were probably behind the door that could only be opened with a badge. 

Jeongin slowly turned his head towards a vacant bed nearby. Neatly made. Fresh bedding. With a nice fluffy pillow on top.

It wouldn't be missed anyway. 

A few minutes later Jeongin was back by Chan's bed, not with one but two pillows stuffed in his arms and a logistic problem. How was he supposed to lift Chan's head without bothering him then stuff two pillows while making everything comfortable enough? 

He could probably do with one pillow for now then add another once Chan was awake. 

Jeongin clumsily put down the pillow at the bottom of his pile on the chair nearby and carefully lifted Chan's head off the cushion. He frowned. This pillow looked flat. Maybe he could actually replace this one with the two others this way Chan would be the most comfortable. But maybe Chan didn't even like soft fluffy pillows. Maybe the lack of structure made him uncomfortable. 

He paused in his mission and gently dropped Chan's head back down then just stood there for a second. Pillow hanging by his side. His eyes lit up before he grabbed his phone and opened his chat with Minho. The latter still appeared online despite it being 2am.

Minho-hyung, what kind of pillow does Chan-hyung prefer? 

?

He always kicks his off the bed so I would say none 

But if he had to pick? 

He likes soft things. 

Jeongin took it as confirmation and got to work carefully switching the pillows until Chan's head was neatly resting on two of the fluffiest pillows Jeongin could find. 

 I gave Chan-hyung two new pillows

👍

Rest a little, iennie

By the time Jeongin sank back into his chair, the clock had hit 2 a.m. Chan had been unconscious for somewhere around 5 hours by now. He wouldn't wake up any time soon according to the doctors so it was pointless to push his body to stay awake all night. Chan's vitals also were not in danger. There was no reason to stay on high alert during the night. 

He repeated it to himself until the buzzing in his ribs finally eased.

He should probably sleep. 

Jeongin leant his head on the bed right next to Chan's head, his fingers playing with his mentor's. His eyes got heavier with the rhythmic beeping of the monitors lulling him deeper and deeper until his thoughts blurred into nothing. 

When he stirred, something soft was pressed under his cheek. It was a pillow. A blanket was also draped across his back bringing him some additional warmth. He didn't remember grabbing either of these. 

Jeongin slowly blinked the sleepiness away before staring at the soft pink traces scattered around the whole room. He huffed. Hyunjin. Couldn’t stand not fussing over him a whole day, huh?

Hyunjin had patrol until late that day. Until 3 or 4 a.m. if Jeongin remembered correctly. He huffed. He was mainly surprised Hyunjin dared ask where the blankets were. 

He stretched his arms over his head, trying to get rid of any residual pain from staying in an uncomfortable position for hours. 

Chan would probably not wake up now. He could probably leave for a few seconds to go see Hyunjin. If his scent still lingered that strongly that meant Hyunjin was still around in the medical wing. 

Jeongin left the room, wrapped in his cozy blanket and followed the pink tracks around. They kept going left and right which told him Hyunjin probably looked for the blankets before asking. But those were faint. Jeongin followed the strongest track a few beds away. 

There wasn't only Hyunjin scent, there was his former mentor's too. Jeongin hadn't met Changkyun that much. He just knew that the man used to be Jinyoung's mentor, to Hyunjin's greatest joy, and only had a soft spot for Hyunjin and absolutely no one else. He also wasn't his mentor since Hyunjin finished his apprenticeship half a year ago. 

Jeongin approached Hyunjin's bed but no one was talking to him. Before he could say anything, Hyunjin was ushering him closer before clasping a hand over his mouth and placing a finger over his own. 

Changkyun has his back turned to them but the volume of his phone was possibly at the max. Changkyun never let anyone hear his phone calls. He was very private. Something was off. 

Silence.

“We were thinking of transferring him to you.”

Jeongin froze. 

He hoped it wasn't what he thought. 

“I've said Hyunjin would be my last apprentice, Ms. Kim. I'm already in my forties, you know the rules already said I should not be taking anymore apprentice.” Changkyun said, voice stern. 

“This is an emergency situation. We have a lack of mentors and have already made the mistake of handing him to someone too young. Chan has already shown he's incapable of mentoring him properly. You're our last option or we would need a hero to double mentor.”

Oh.

Oh. 

They were taking him away from Chan. They were giving him a new mentor because Chan overworked himself so much doing double his job that he collapsed and now was not considered a legible mentor figure. Jeongin couldn't help but feel nauseous. Right, if he couldn't take care of himself then what kind of example would he give an apprentice?

He couldn't help but blame himself. Had he done more, would Chan not have collapsed? He had tried to avoid the thoughts until now but it was his fault. Since Chan took him in as an apprentice he received double the workload and was supposed to divide it evenly between himself and Jeongin. He didn't. He had double the patrol area and did most of the job while Jeongin trailed helplessly behind. He got double the hours of patrol but insisted Jeongin leave early if he was exhausted. During fights, he would shield Jeongin and try to take most of the hits. 

Jeongin was a dead weight on Chan. 

But still despite everything he was selfish. 

He had made progress. He could make up for it now. He could show them Chan was an excellent mentor since he managed to make a lost cause like Jeongin actually evolve faster than he ever had during his days as a trainee. He would fight to stay with Chan. 

Chan would be the only one who would not treat him differently from other apprentices. Him being an absolute failure wasn't the only reason he was so behind on everyone. He had started later because of his parents. 

Jeongin didn't come from villains per se— even though the way the higher ups talked about it it almost felt like so. His father’s family had cut ties with him long before Jeongin was born. Called him a hooligan, a failure. And instead of trying to rebuild his life, Jeongin’s father got desperate. One day he tried to rob a well-off passerby. It went wrong. He panicked and used his ability. The man died. Jeongin's mother was with him. There were cameras.

They went into hiding for years. 

Until Jeongin, ten years old, covered in bruises, was found hiding under a bridge. He didn't even know how he ended there. Still didn't today. When the heroes asked who hurt him, he told them.

His parents were tracked down and arrested, and Jeongin was taken into the Committee's custody. 

He ratted out his parents. 

He did what his father feared most out of childish ignorance and unlocked his cage to just jump into another shinier one. 

He had to catch up on a lot of education. 

And socializing. Getting isolated from the world didn't really help with that.

The Committee also took years of “precautions” to make sure he would not turn out like his parents. Regular tests until he was 16. He got punished a lot back then. Maybe because he was a teenager and felt rebellious or maybe that was when his power developed too fast and he wasn't quick enough to suck it up and adapt to his day to day sight giving him headaches because of the splatches of colours everywhere. They finally let him enter the program a year later than everyone. 

They still saw him as a safety hazard 

But Chan got him. He didn't judge him. He even said they were similar. Kids taken by the hero Committee because they were parentless but couldn't go in the foster system since they had powers. Chan saw Jeongin for who he was and it was a kid scared shitless of the future but who just wanted to prove himself. 

Jeongin had always admired Chan. How could he not? The second he arrived people talked left and right about this legendary trainee who finally entered his apprentice period. His name was pronounced in every corner of the training center, in the dorms. An orphan, just like him, who managed to become something so great and would carry on to be so great. Jeongin saw them as birds of a feather. He took him as a role model from the second he started his training. If Chan could do it then so could he. 

Even before knowing him he wanted to make him proud. 

And now he had ultimately failed him. 

He should’ve been better. He should’ve pushed harder. He should’ve taken more of the load. He should’ve seen he was tired. He should’ve done something, anything–

He should’ve stopped being so slow, so weak, so

Fucking useless.

His breath hitched sharply. He clutched Hyunjin's injured hand without meaning to, making the other hiss but his mind was elsewhere. 

“Innie…?” Hyunjin asked tentatively. 

Chan fainted because of him. 

If Jeongin had been strong enough, capable enough, vigilant enough then Chan wouldn’t have had to cover for him. Wouldn’t have had to work double. Wouldn’t have needed to push himself until he—

Jeongin’s vision blurred at the edges.

His breath wouldn’t come in anymore, only out in quick, panicked bursts.

His fingers clawed at the sheet, shaking.

He really was good at ruining everything. He couldn't help but laugh bitterly but it felt wet, and shaky. Every breath he let out felt like a stab in his throat. 

He felt a touch to his shoulder and he flinched like he’d been burned.

“Innie, look at me,” Hyunjin said, voice suddenly right in front of him, firm in a way that tried to tug him out of the spiral. “You’re okay. Just breathe. You’re safe.”

“I—I made him— I—” The words stumbled out, broken and useless. “If I’d— I should’ve— he wouldn’t—”

“No,” Hyunjin said immediately, but Jeongin couldn’t stop.

Hyunjin cupped Jeongin’s cheek, grounding him, thumb brushing at a tear Jeongin hadn’t even noticed falling.

“Innie,” Hyunjin whispered, steady. “You didn’t do this to him. Listen to me. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t make him collapse.”

But Jeongin’s breath kept stuttering, like his lungs couldn’t decide if they wanted air or to turn into an old raisin inside his chest. 

“No—I'm just a lazy ass piece of shit who is so shit at everything that he couldn't even fix his own existence.” he blurted out. “And now—”he gulped, “now Chan exhausted himself too much and they're gonna put me under another mentor and he will abandon me and pretend I never existed and I won't get to eat Minho-hyung's home cooked food or pretend to not like cuddling with Dori and—” he felt tears prick at his eyes, “my family's just's gonna get torn away from my arms and and I only just started feeling actually loved rather than like a burden and I'm gonna lose that and you know why?”

“Jeongin, no-”

“Because I was a fucking burden.”

And I'm burdening you right now, he didn't say out loud. 

Hyunjin didn't try to talk anymore. 

He carefully slid his arm behind Jeongin's back guiding him sideways until Jeongin found himself leaning against Hyunjin’s uninjured shoulder. How much did he get injured today? A quiet, steady “shh” brushed the top of his head. 

Jeongin folded instantly.

He curled up on himself, a broken sob tearing loose from somewhere he couldn’t control. His fingers twisted in Hyunjin’s fresh Pokémon hoodie clinging as if he’d fall off the bed and straight through the floor if he let go. 

Jeongin curled smaller and smaller, trying to disappear into himself, knees drawn up on the bed, forehead pressed against Hyunjin’s clavicle. 

Hyunjin didn't let go. 

“Thanks for the blanket by the way…” he whispered before allowing himself to shut his eyes for a moment. 

__________________________________

The nurses were just leaving Chan’s bedside when Hyunjin appeared in the doorway, Jeongin asleep on his back. One of Jeongin’s legs hung heavy at Hyunjin’s side, resting awkwardly in his very clearly injured hand. 

Hyunjin froze. 

“Oh,” he murmured, “Jeongin won’t like that.” he hesitated for a moment, “Hey, could you, like… pretend to still be asleep…?”

Chan blinked, then glanced past Hyunjin to Jeongin’s peaceful face, his cheek pressed against Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Jeongin is clever, Hyunjin. He’ll figure it out and will just feel worse”

Hyunjin moved to the only chair of the room and gently sat Jeongin down on it, making sure his head didn't rest in any awkward position. He stayed a second too long, staring at Jeongin's feature before a soft smile stretched on his lips. 

Chan closed his eyes, the weight of unfinished patrols, civilians he hadn’t checked on, pressing heavy on his chest. He’d messed up. 

“The hero killer could’ve found you,” Hyunjin said, glancing at Jeongin. “Both of you.”

“I know.”

“You got lucky Jeongin was with you.”

“I know.”

Chan still felt like shit. Despite sleeping for hours he still felt fatigue stretching through every single ones of his bones

“Why did you even push yourself so much, hyung?” 

Chan glanced at Hyunjin’s injured hand, “probably the same reason why you hid that for so long”

Hyunjin instinctively shifted, hiding his injured hand out of sight before he even realised what he was doing. He stilled, then huffed a tired breath realising he was just repeating a pattern of hiding pain. 

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I think this forced me to catch up on about a week’s worth of missed sleep,” he muttered. “And put me behind on a week’s worth of paperwork.”

Hyunjin shot him a look. “Don’t say that to Jeongin. Even as a joke.” His voice softened as he draped a cover over Jeongin. “He’s already blaming himself for everything. He’d twist that into proof you worked yourself into the ground because of him.”

He brushed away a strand of Jeongin’s hair, smiling fondly.

“I’m sorry, you probably have a lot on your mind already too. It's just… It would be best if you didn’t both drown in all your problems.”

Chan nodded. He knew Jeongin. Jeongin blamed himself a lot. It was especially bad during his first day where Chan had to teach him that being a hero was about taking actions and not wondering if he could have done more.

“Why do I have so many pillows?” he asked incredulously. 

Hyunjin barely held back a laugh before pointing at the sleepy head resting on the bed beside him. Ah yes, of course. 

Jeongin slowly stirred from his sleep and his eyes immediately landed on Chan. He could almost see the thoughts running through his head before he was able to school his expression. 

Chan woke up and I wasn't there. 

Chan woke up and I was slacking off. 

Before Jeongin could fully collect himself and shove everything back down where it belonged, Chan opened his arms.

Jeongin froze.

Then his mask crumbled 

He moved hesitantly, Hyunjin nudging him gently forward, and Jeongin folded into Chan’s chest. 

Chan gently combed Jeongin's hair and didn't comment on the wet patch that was forming on his shirt. Nor the small sobs only he could hear but Jeongin probably prayed no one noticed. Nor how hard he squeezed him in that hug. He knew Jeongin didn't mean to let himself be exposed right. Chan knew it. He wasn't about to show him his shield was down. 

When he pulled off, Chan did not comment on the slight puffiness around his eyes or how he hurried to go grab himself and Chan a glass that he all but shoved into his hands. 

“Last time you hydrated was on patrol.”he simply said before the protest could get out of his mouth. 

Chan could see something was on his mind. He could already see something was off while talking to Hyunjin. Hyunjin was most likely Jeongin's current emotional support even though the younger would probably never admit it. 

They really were all emotionally constipated in here.

“The nurse said I could get back to work tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, that's great” Jeongin nodded, taking a sip of his water

“Yeah, that's great, right on time for our first mission together”

Chan expected any reaction out of Jeongin except him tensing on the spot. Maybe going to another country made him anxious. Chan should have considered that. He himself had been extremely anxious about his first mission, even though his was in Korea. It was a big deal that Chan had prepared him for for weeks. 

But with the recent event he might not be as certain as he should. There was a lot more to overthink with Chan barely recovered. What if Chan were to faint again. Chan didn't teach Jeongin how to deal with this and on top of it all in a foreign country where he wouldn't be able to just join the headquarters. Jeongin wouldn't have these worries had Chan been able to push through during that patrol. He could handle himself and shouldn't have his apprentice worrying about handling him. 

Hyunjin and Jeongin exchanged a look, a silent communication Chan would not get. 

“I'm gonna head out. Azure probably needs me.”

He lingered for half a second longer than necessary, eyes flicking to Jeongin then Chan. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air, like he might say something else, then dropped.

Hyunjin left quietly, his steps hurried. 

He paced once. Twice. Stopped. Left the room without a word and came back with Chan’s favorite coffee, setting it carefully within reach like Chan light tear a muscle if he had to move a finger more than strictly necessary. 

Then he adjusted Chan’s pillow.

Then adjusted it again.

Then readjusted it again. 

Then frowned and checked Chan’s temperature the second he mentioned a headache.

By the time Minho called, Jeongin had done back-and-forths so many times Chan lost count. Water, blanket, coffee, phone, pillows again. 

“You did something stupid,” Minho said flatly through the phone. 

“I know.”

“Don’t ‘I know’ me.” Minho exhaled sharply. “That works on the kid, not on me. I’m worried, Chan.”

Chan stared at the ceiling. “I’ll handle things better next time. It was a one-time thing. I can take care of myself.”

A pause. Then a humorless laugh.

“We both know you genuinely can’t. And when I say both, I mean Innie and I since you seem so adamant on the fact that you can.” Minho hummed on the other line, “When Dori came back to me meowing about you being in danger it was like receiving a well calculated punch in the face. I couldn't reach you. I was too far and also not allowed. Jeongin was my only way and I hate that this all fell on the kid.”

Silence.

“Don’t ‘I know’ me,” Minho warned quietly. “Or I will personally beat the shit out of you the second you’re home.”

“…Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry,” Minho said, softer now. “You just want me to stop worrying.”

Chan sighed. “I’ll try,” he said. “I won’t promise immediate progress.”

Jeongin made a face at the pet name and Chan couldn’t help but want to tease him. Minho stayed quiet for a few seconds and Chan could hear him rhythmically tap the side of his phone through the microphone. 

“Hey, remember our very first infiltration mission together as a pro-hero duo?”

“The one where we cracked our pants?” Minho teased. 

Chan chose to ignore this comment. 

“You looked ethereal that night”

“Hm, big words.”

“We weren’t married at that point”

“Hm.”

“I think I proposed the very next week.”

“Worst decisions you could have made, really.”

Jeongin groaned into Chan's bead sheet and that's when he knew he pushed it too far. 

“I'll talk to you later. Bye.”

When the call ended, Jeongin lifted his head. Chan cracked him a smile but Jeongin didn’t return it. He hovered instead, quiet. 

“What's wrong, yen-ah?”

Jeongin pondered for a few seconds. Chan could see the gears turning in his head before he came to a decision. Jeongin kept fidgeting with his fingers, having grabbed a single hair from his head and passing it through each finger, slipping it under his nails before snapping it in two and repeating. 

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asked quietly. “You just woke up. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I was out for a few hours,” Chan said. “Not in a coma. You can tell me.”

Jeongin swallowed.

“The superiors decided you’re not qualified enough as a mentor,” he said, staring at the bed. “They’re transferring my apprenticeship.”

Chan felt the truth settle in his chest, the inevitability of it, the shape of something he’d known was coming. He’d already lost before the fight even started. They would probably come to make him sign a paper resigning him as Jeongin's mentor and then he wouldn't see the younger again because why would Jeongin even interact with him? 

“Oh,” Chan said. “When are they planning to transfer you?”

Jeongin froze. 

It was written in stone.

But he didn't expect the expression of shock and betrayal on Jeongin's face. 

“You don't care…?” his voice broke on the last syllable and Chan shot his arm to grab Jeongin's hand. 

“No, no, no I really care about you. It's just inevitable and you know it.”

They can't disobey orders. 

Jeongin pulled his hand away. 

“I thought you’d fight,” he said, voice breaking. “I thought you’d be angry. Or frustrated. Anything.” He stood abruptly. “I thought you’d refuse to resign. I thought you’d tell them no.”

“I’ve made progress,” Jeongin rushed on. “I mess up sometimes but I can fix it. We can split the workload so you don't get overworked again. We can prove we work. Why won’t you fight for me?”

“Jeongin, that's not how it works. You're still an apprentice so that might be why—”

“NO.” he yelled, making heads turn, “Don't you dare deflect and infantilise me. I tricked myself into thinking—into trusting you cared and also saw me as family but I was so fucking wrong.”

Tears were dripping down Jeongin's face before he stormed out of the medical wing.

Chan froze.

He hadn’t expected that. Not from Jeongin — not from someone trained, like him, to swallow everything down and keep moving. Heroes weren’t supposed to cry. They weren’t supposed to scream or break or fall apart where anyone could see. Heroes were meant to be stable. Controlled. Safe. If they cracked, civilians would crack with them. That was what they’d been taught. Instability are for villains. 

Chan moved before the thought could finish forming.

He tore the leads from his chest, ignored the machines protesting behind him, and swung his legs off the bed. The cold floor bit into his bare feet as he ran, the sound of his steps echoing too loud in the corridor.

Catch him.

Right now.

Because if he didn’t, Chan knew he would lose him.w he would lose him probably forever. 

His steps hurried through the corridors. Left. Right. Jeongin couldn't have gone far but unplugging himself took long enough for Chan to lose him. 

After about 5 mins of running around Chan found Jeongin near the almost unused vending machine tucked away from the main wing, where no one went because it was rarely refilled. People forgot about it. Jeongin sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest, shoulders hunched like he was trying to fold in on himself.

Small.

Like a child trying to hide from the monster in his closet. 

Chan stopped short. The entrance was right there. He could see Jeongin through the gap between the wall and the vending machine but Jeongin couldn't see him so far. One step further and he’d be seen but his chest tightened at the thought of interrupting and driving Jeongin away for good.

So he stayed just out of sight.

Jeongin’s phone buzzed once.

Then went dead.

“Fuck,” Jeongin muttered, voice cracking. 

The name Beomgyu still glowed faintly on the screen before disappearing. He raised his phone in the air, grip tightening, then loosening, like he’d scared himself with how close he’d come to throwing the phone.  

He dialed another number. 

“Hello?” Minho's voice echoed. He felt like even his breath was too loud in this instance. 

Jeongin stayed silent for a moment. “... Hyung.” despite his best effort his voice broke on the last syllable

Jeongin had never broken down so much. 

“Innie, is everything alright?” silence, “do you need me to pick you up?”

Chan could hear him hold back another sob, voice wet. “Why do you care?”

“We don't need a reason to. You're just Jeongin and we care.”

“Chan doesn't care.”

He could hear Minho pause on the other line. Humming softly. Maybe he was waiting for Jeongin to carry on or thinking his next words through. Minho had always been a lot better at comforting people than Chan. Chan supported and encouraged and Minho was the one behind ready to pick you up. 

“He—” Jeongin gulped, “They're planning to change me mentor and I told Chan and some part of me knew there would be the possibility Chan would abandon me because I messed up so bad and it's only normal but it still hurt when he didn't even react sad or hurt. He—he just asked me when the change would happen as if—as if he was just waiting to get rid of me and hyung I just don't know what do or feel a-and Beomgyu is not answering and Hyunjin-hyung is busy a-and—”

“This dumbass.” Minho cut him off.

Chan tensed up. 

“What?”

“Don't worry it's not against you, Innie. He's always been like that and he does care for you, it's just…” Minho sighed, “he's brainwashed by the Committee. He was sold from a young age that he could not disappoint them and they had great expectations for him so now he's a loyal dog who would rather die than question order because he's scared of what disappointing them would mean. Almost his entire personality relies on being someone the higher ups appreciate. He cares about you and the proof is that he pulled the same thing on me.”

“Is it about you quitting as a hero?” Jeongin asked bluntly, probably not realising the weight of this question.

Even Chan couldn't get answers out of him. And they argued over this. 

This was a heavy topic. 

Minho wouldn't just start talking about it like that if Chan fought for years to get answers out of him. 

“Yeah.” Minho admitted, “When I was still active,” he continued slowly, “there was a medic on our rotation. Not a big-name hero. Support class. Could barely get a day off without someone guilt-tripping him about civilians needing help.”

Chan’s breath hitched.

“His ability let him take on half of a person’s pain and injuries to heal them faster.” Minho said. “He was supposed to heal one person, then rest,” Minho went on. “That was protocol. Pain like that hits all at once when it transfers. If you don’t let the body recover, it stacks.”

Silence.

“I got injured on a mission,” Minho said. “Bad enough they sent the medic in.”

Jeongin whispered, “What happened?”

“He was…already shaking when he reached me,” Minho said. “Could barely stand. I told him to stop. I said I could wait.”

“His mentor was there,” Minho continued. “Kept insisting. Said civilians needed me back on the field. Said heroes don’t get to choose comfort over duty.”

Chan felt sick.

“The medic collapsed halfway through,” Minho said. “Right in front of me.”

Jeongin’s breath stuttered.

“He went into shock,” Minho said. “Screaming but not from the injuries he took from me, but from everything he’d already absorbed that day.”

“Is he…”

“He survived,” he added. “Barely.”

“What did the Committee do?” Jeongin asked.

“They called it burnout,” Minho said flatly. “Told us not to talk about it.”

Chan clenched his fists so hard his nails bit into his palms.

“I obeyed,” Minho said. “Once.”

Jeongin whispered, “And then?”

“The same situation happened again.” Minho said. “Different day. Same pressure. Same speeches.”

A beat.

“That’s when I said no.”

Chan’s chest felt tight.

“I refused orders. Pulled the medic out myself. Got him coffee. Settled his limits. Asked for them to be respected.” Minho said. “They told me I was overstepping.”

“So you quit,” Jeongin said.

“Yeah,” Minho replied. “Before they made me watch it happen again.”

Chan froze. He didn’t remember the incident, but pieces started clicking together. When Minho got his job at the cat shelter, he had introduced Chan to Felix. Said he was a former hero who quit too and needed a job so Minho slipped a nice word about him to the boss. Chan never questioned the giant scar across Felix's forearm but now that he could put things together.

The bright boy he saw every time he visited Minho at the shelter. The boy who had once fallen asleep cuddled with a kitty and Chan couldn't help but snap a picture and use it in his contact list would have most likely died if Minho hadn't stepped in and stood up for him. And now he was thriving. He was rested. Full of life. Chan couldn't even imagine him screaming in agony on the floor. 

“Could they do this to Beomgyu one day? He’s my friend. A medic.”

“Possibly.”

Jeongin’s voice trembled. “Chan let that slip?”

Minho’s voice softened.

“Innie,” he said, “your mentor is one of the strongest heroes they have. They just trained him to believe obedience is the same as worth. Chan has a lot more agency than he thinks but he doesn't use it because he stubbornly believes it's a trap.”

Chan’s breath caught.

“I didn’t tell Chan right away. When I quit, he gave me space. He just trusted I had my reasons. Then he asked about a week later. I didn’t give him the full details. Told him someone got hurt because they were pushed past their limit. Told him it wasn’t a one-time thing.”

Minho paused.

“What did Chan say?”

“He said they wouldn’t risk heroes unless it was necessary,” Minho went on quietly. “That the Committee probably knew better than we did. That maybe there were things I didn’t see from my side. So, I stopped trying.”

Jeongin took a breath, “You thought he wouldn’t listen.”

“I thought it would break us,” Minho said. “And I wasn’t ready to lose him over something he wasn’t prepared to see yet.”

Jeongin’s voice shook. “So, we just…give up on him?”

“No,” Minho said gently. “People don’t question systems like that until the system hurt someone they love.”

“And now?” 

Minho sighed. “Now, I think he’s finally close enough to the fire to feel it.”

Minho’s words hit him like a punch. Loyalty without thought wasn’t heroism. It was complicity. He had let people get hurt because he’s rathered obeying.

_________________________________

The sound of 2NE1’s song along with Beomgyu’s singing, or rather yelling, blasted in his ears. His friend had insisted on driving him to the airport. Then he insisted on playing some music to lift his mood up. So here he was, in the passenger seat of his friend’s car, most likely losing part of his hearing.

“Don’t you have a shift in, like, 30 minutes?”

“I’ll do overtime” Beomgyu shrugged

“That’s not how it works—”

“It is as long as you believe it.”

He considered that maybe if he buried himself deep enough into the leather of the seat he might become one with it and not have to go on that mission. It wasn’t like a patrol anyway. A mission usually for some rich ass snob who could afford to hire heroes as glorified body guards for their daughter's 18th birthday where she’ll kiss her handsome and wealthy fiancé in front of dozens of camera flashes. And if you were unlucky she would use you as a servant and drag you around to strike some pauses for her instagram and film a tik tok dance. 

A mission. Rather a “let’s make our sponsors happy or we’re fucked.”

And the music was getting on his last nerve.

Jeongin took a deep breath. “Gyu, can you turn it off? It’s not helping.”

“Turn it off?” he asked, puzzled. “Hold on, maybe it’s just not the right one. I bet you’re gonna like the next song.”

Beomgyu took his eyes off the road for a second to click the tiny screen of the car.

The first few notes of Come Back Home by 2NE1 played.

“Okay, maybe not this one”

He clicked again.

Congratulations by Day6.

Jeongin didn’t hear music for the rest of the drive.

Rather than disconnecting his phone, Beomgyu had simply paused the song and left it at that. Jeongin stared at the title, the song mentally playing in his head to his greatest disarray. He wondered if Chan would get a new apprentice after him. Would he forget about Jeongin? He most likely already had, considering he hadn’t sent him any message since the day before. Jeongin eating up his phone battery, checking over and over again the entire drive. It was hard to believe what Minho told him when Chan showed nothing indicating he did care.

Beomgyu dropped him off and the cold wind slapped him in the face. 

“I would love to properly say goodbye and wish you luck but…” Beomgyu vaguely gestured at the impending phone call with his mentor on the car screen before picking it up, “heyyy boss, did I ever tell you how much of a role model you are to me? I always thought you were so cool—”

Jeongin huffed and walked to the trunk of his car in order to retrieve his luggage. He would text Beomgyu thanks later, once he wouldn’t have the looming threat of treating the patients with the worst behaviours at the medical wing. He had two suitcases: one for his hero suit, one for normal clothes. 

He barely got the suitacases out that the wind almost blew his beanie off. He hurried inside, albeit reluctantly, before he could freeze to death.

Jeongin stood inside, people bumping into him as he looked for the right gate on any of the signs displayed everywhere across the airport. After a few more seconds of looking he found it and made his way to the complete other side of the building while trying his hardest to keep his eyes open.

After what happened the day before he hadn’t slept. He had busied himself in the training room, did some of Chan’s paperwork he could manage to pay him back for bearing with him for so long and then went home to shower and pack his things. 

Then he lied in bed and stared at the wall.

Staring at the wall after losing a significant part of your support system is not good for you, kids.

All that to say he was about to meet his new mentor looking like he woke up in his grave. And this mentor would most likely treat him like shit. So this mission would be shit. And his life was shit. 

He should have taken up Beomgyu on his offer to stay at his place.

Beomgyu would have probably let him cry his heart out while eating ice cream and watching the cheesiest K-drama he could pull up on the spot. 

He felt lethargic. Like his limbs were dead weights. The chair he had just sat in dug into his back, the overhead light buzzed incessantly, a cold breeze hit him just right to make his scarf feel useless and now his phone had less than 20% battery. 

He had received an email stating he would meet his new mentor at gate C8 an hour and half before departure. 

It would probably be a forty-something year-old who thought himself too big for his boots, undermining their apprentice every second, minimising their effort and being general trash. There were a few of them. Their apprentices didn't last 2 weeks with them. It's harder to hold one when you know an apprenticeship is two years and a half, no less. 

The worst part was that it wouldn’t even be here. It would be a foreign country he didn’t know, with a language he didn’t speak, partnered with a mentor he’d never met, for a mission he’d barely been briefed on. And if something went wrong, it would be on him. It always was. He couldn't even complain because the Committee was full of shit. 

He knew he was behaving like a toddler but let him have that. His life was a joke. 

Why was he even doing that? He could just quit already and join Minho at the shelter with all the cute kitties and—

Jeongin heard heavy pants right in front of him. He lifted his head from his phone and nearly dropped it as he stared at the familiar figure, folded in half trying to catch his breath. 

“Chan-hyung?”

“Hey—” he sucked in one last big breath before straightening up. “Hey.” Chan offered a small smile. 

“What are you doing here?”

Was he scheduled on a mission in another country as part of some Committee scheme to remind him of how big of a mess up he was? Showing him what he could have had if he had moved his ass instead of hiding in the comfort of trusting Chan to know when to make him work.

“Well, I'm your mentor.”

Jeongin frowned. “You're not. I'm having a new one today. Did they forget to tell you when our contract would end?”

“No, yen-ah, there's no new mentor.”

One blink. 

Two blinks. 

“Huh?”

“Yeah okay, I have a lot of explaining to do. They probably expected me to resign when the new mentor was assigned. But when they brought the papers this morning, I said no. Respectfully, of course. And legally they can't force me to resign so basically I'm still your mentor and the contract with your new mentor is invalid since mine is already ongoing and it is stated an apprentice can only have one mentor. I never shook this much and was so fucking scared. Felt like a kid throwing a tantrum but…”

Chan raised his head to look into Jeongin's eyes. “It felt worth it.”

“... So I can still crash at your and Minho-hyung's place on Thursdays?”

“Yeah— wait, that wasn't at stake. Ever. You're family, innie. Did you doubt that?”

Family had always been so foreign to Jeongin. He had hastily assumed it was conditional. His father considered him his son only when he behaved and did something to make him proud. Then the Committee and professors only praised him when he did something outstandish which was rare. He had assumed it was the same with Chan. That he considered him something only when he was standing in line, listening to Chan's every word carefully. Only when he would help doing chores around the house even if Minho didn't ask for help. This last patrol was what signed his death sentence to Jeongin. He hadn't read between the lines and things started going downhill from there and it just couldn't have been Chan's fault so it had to be his. 

And Jeongin thought he was nothing to Chan if he wasn't his apprentice. 

Before he could realise it he had thrown himself in Chan's arms, squeezing him as hard as he could and not caring if his hyung suffocated. Chan didn't say a word and wrapped his arms around Jeongin's torso pulling him closer, as if it was possible, and rested his head on top of Jeongin's. 

“You know Minho gave me hell yesterday. Sat me through 30mins of scolding and kept me stuck there by having Doongie sleeping on my lap.”

“You kinda deserved it,” Jeongin mumbled in his chest. 

“Yeah…”

Chan rocked them gently back and forth. 

“At least, we get to go on even more side quests together.”

Jeongin chuckled in his scarf. 

“Don't call them that. It sounds childish.”

“How am I supposed to call them then?”

“Hero work?”

“You exclude all the pranks we pulled on Minho. Or us running around the hero tower for the last vending machine with our favourite drink before it got banned. Or you losing your badge and me having to beg Nayeon noona at the reception to give you a guest badge until we found yours so you don't freeze outside in the snow.”

Jeongin groaned. “Fine, side quests fits.”