Chapter Text
Minho had heard people describe how it felt when your mate died. They said it was a pain so horrible it made you blind. Like a lightning bolt striking your heart and setting your body on fire.
When Minho's mate died, it was nothing like that.
After Jisung and Minho had mated, his friends had been curious. They were the first out of their group to do it, and so young, only sixteen years old. But waiting was out of the question; their hearts had been beating as one since the day they met as children. It was meant to be. Like souls grown from the same seed, undeniably intertwined vines that climbed as they grew and matured, stronger together than separate.
“Woah,” Felix gasped when Minho proudly showed off his mating bite at school the next day.
“Wicked,” Hyunjin said, equally amazed by the sight. “Does it hurt?”
Minho shrugged, fighting a blush under their attention. “Not really.”
“Can I touch it?” Felix asked, lifting a tentative finger.
Minho flinched back. “It's a bit sensitive.”
“Oh.” Felix nodded as if he was learning important information.
“Did it hurt when Jisung bit you?” Hyunjin asked curiously.
“Just a little,” Minho responded. “It mostly just felt nice.”
“And how does it feel?” Felix asked with big eyes. “Being mated, I mean.”
Minho hummed in thought. It was hard to really put in words. “Like... I don't know. Like he's always with me, in a way. I can feel him anytime.”
Hyunjin frowned. “Feel him how?”
Minho sighed. It was one of these things people wouldn't understand until they had done it themselves. “It's like... a string.”
“A string?” Felix asked.
Minho nodded. “Exactly! It's uhm...” he paused, searching his brain for a fitting metaphor. “Do you remember the tin can telephones we made when we were kids?”
Both of them nodded.
“It's a bit like that. Jisung and I, we're connected via a stretched string that allows us to communicate.”
“Woah, you can talk telepathically?” Hyunjin gasped. “That's awesome! What is Jisung thinking right now?”
Minho laughed. “Not like that, dumbass. I said we communicate, not talk. The string has a frequency. It vibrates. I feel his heartbeat. And based on that, I can read him, his emotions, his moods.”
“Sounds complicated,” Felix said, his brows furrowing. “What if you misread it?”
“It sounds more complicated than it is. I feel like I know Sungie inside and out and there's no way that I'll misunderstand. You'll know what I mean once you're mated yourself.”
Felix averted his eyes in thought.
“And how's he feeling right now?” Hyunjin asked.
“So-so. Bored,” Minho responded. Jisung went to a different school for Alphas only. “He's probably in maths right now.”
The two Omegas chuckled.
Only three years after being mated, at nineteen years old, was when Minho and Jisung received the greatest gift of their lives: A pup. Another three years later, Jisung had to leave for the war. Another year later, Minho fell pregnant again. And during the third month, it happened.
Minho was unsuspecting, following his routines as usual. Wake up. Brush his teeth. Make breakfast for his four-year-old. Wash the dishes. Collect the dry laundry. Start preparing lunch.
And then it happened. He was at the stove cooking, adding salt into the soup and then-
Splash.
The saltshaker slipped from his hand, straight into the boiling broth. Hot water splashed on his hand, but Minho didn't react. He was frozen still. Paralyzed. The burn was the only thing keeping him grounded.
The string had snapped.
Minho had gotten used to the constant tension on it. He could feel Jisung's anxiety whenever he was in battle: his heavy breathing, his worry, his stress. It wasn't sweet, but Minho had gotten used to it over the course of the months, had learned to ignore it, as harsh as it seemed, it was the only way Minho could live on and care for his child. He couldn't afford tobreak down and worry about his mate all the time. He had to live on for the family.
Jisung was there one second - and gone the next. The string between them cut with a pair of scissors. Quick and clean.
There was no heartbeat, no breath, no frequency. The channel between them was a quiet desert.
"S-sungie?" Minho mumbled quietly, trying to reach out. He tried to move his end of the string, but it stayed still like a paralyzed limb.
"Jisung?" Minho asked louder, voice shaking. The quiet made him panic. "Alpha?"
The pot was boiling over and Minho let it happen. He couldn't move and just watched as the water splashed onto the stove and evaporated in the flames.
Jisung was dead.
My mate is dead.
Minho knew. But there was no pain. No lightning bold setting his body on fire. In fact, it had felt like someone had extinguished the flame that was their bond. Like a candle that was meant to burn forever, blown out within the blink of an eye.
Minho waited for the pain. He waited for hours, days, weeks, but it never came.
The death of his mate hadn't hurt - it had numbed him. Torn his heart out of his chest and put it next to Jisung in a casket, never to see the light of day again.
Changbin was late. He was an asshole. His best friend had died, and he was running late to the funeral.
He tried not to draw attention when he entered the hall, though it was hard to be quiet when his cane made a clang on the marble floor with every step. He signed his name into the guest book, then took a spot at the end of the line of people standing by the wall.
It had already started. Jisung’s mother was on her knees, touching her forehead to the ground as she bowed to her dead son’s altar. It was lavishly decorated with flowers and funeral wreaths arranged around a colored photograph of Jisung in his military uniform.
If it was up to Changbin, he would have chosen a different photo.
Jisung had not been smiling on the day of enlistment when the picture was taken – no one had. No one went to the military by choice, no matter they said they would die for their country. In their world, it was an honor, an expectation to be ready to die. A necessary sacrifice. But in the end, no one went to war with a smile on their face.
But since it was the only colored photo that existed of Jisung, they had decided on using it – not that Jisung’s relatives had any say in organizing the funeral anyway. They didn’t have the money, so they had agreed to let the government do it for them. It was a service they offered in return for Jisung’s sacrifice.
A poor trade, Changbin thought; barely the minimum. Jisung’s life was worth more than that. But in the government’s eyes, he was little more than a pawn in their little war game.
Changbin caught his breath as he took a tentative look around the room. There were many people – close and distant relatives, friends, remaining comrades-in-arms. Changbin had attended lots of funerals during the war. But this was by far the one he had dreaded the most. He had hardly been closer to anyone else; battle may bring people together, but Changbin had grown up with Jisung.
This was different. This was his brother.
Changbin was standing with the Alphas by a wall, the Omegas and Betas on the opposite side. At the very front stood the people from Jisung’s pack: Seungmin, Hyunjin, and his mate, Minho. Felix was missing.
The sight was heartbreaking. Changbin tried making eye-contact with Hyunjin; the layers of makeup couldn’t hide that he had been crying. Hyunjin noticed him and they exchanged a few curious glances.
Changbin could read the silent question on Hyunjin’s face when he spotted the cane: What happened? But he quickly averted his eyes again. Changbin wanted nothing more then pull him into his arms. But that had to wait until after the service.
But the sight that devastated Changbin more was Minho. The widow’s eyes were set on the ground; he had a face like stone. His long hair stopped at his chest and he was wearing a funeral hanbok.
Changbin still remembered the colorful hanbok Minho had worn for his wedding – this one was black and white, the wide skirt hiding his belly. Not that it was noticeable anyway. But maybe, for today, Minho could pretend that his dead mate was his only problem, and that there wasn’t a pup growing inside of him too.
Speaking of, Changbin noticed that their son wasn’t here. It wasn't usual for close relatives of the deceased to be missing. But perhaps there was a good reason. Changbin hadn’t seen Channie in ages, but he couldn’t imagine the whirlwind of a kid could stand still for more than a second.
When Jisung’s mother was done paying her respect, it was Minho’s turn. He stepped forward like a ghost, grabbing some incense and placing it on the altar, right next to the urn containing his mate’s ashes. Then he took two steps back, went to his knees carefully, lifted two hands and bowed down until his hands and forehead touched the ground.
The room was dead quiet.
After exactly thirty seconds, Minho lifted his upper body before bowing down again, this time lasting for a minute.
He took his time standing up, stumbling as he did so. Seungmin and Hyunjin were by his side immediately, bracing him by one arm each. Changbin could hear a quiet groan. He looked awfully pale.
“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, brushing his hair out of his face.
Minho nodded with a small frown.
“Come, we'll get you a chair,” Seungmin said.
“No,” Minho insisted. “I’m fine.”
It was typically considered disrespectful to sit during the service. All guests were to remain standing until everyone had paid their respect for the deceased. Surely, nausea due to pregnancy was an exception that everybody would understand, but Changbin knew Minho. He was willing to suffer for Jisung’s sake. So, he went back to his spot, being held by his pack members.
Once the closest relatives and pack was done, it was the Alphas’ turn. Changbin waited patiently for his turn, then took hesitant steps toward the altar. He kept his eyes down as he limped forward, leaning his cane against the altar so he could add incense. It was the moment he dreaded the most, ever since Jisung had died in his arms.
Changbin had lost too many comrades to count. Seen too many friends die; the very men he’d trained with, shared bedrooms with, showered with; they had all left one by one. At some point, as cruel as it sounded, Changbin had gotten used to it. Stopped letting another death wear him down and accepted the fate of those men.
But this was different. Not only was Jisung like a brother to him – Changbin was carrying the burden of disappointing his mate.
It wasn’t the loss that made this moment hard, so much as the shame. Changbin’s failure to keep him alive. Minho had made him swear. Changbin had promised he would protect his mate and bring him back home. But he had failed. It was the guilt Changbin feltthat made him bow to his dead friend and then again to Minho.
People started whispering; this wasn’t standard procedure at funerals. Changbin didn’t care. It was the least he could do since he didn’t have the balls to apologize to Minho’s face.
When he stood up again, he dared to flit his eyes up for the shortest moment. Minho’s face was frozen still, any emotion carefully concealed. Changbin wished he’d react in any way, beit to yell at him, shame him in front of everybody in the room; let all the people close to Jisung know whose fault it was.
But he didn’t.
The guilt threatened to suffocate Changbin. He walked straight out of the hall, the rhythmic clang of his cane echoing along with his steps.
The next day, Changbin was in front of Minho’s door, worrying his bottom lip when he rang the bell and waited.
The house was big and falling apart. It had a hole in the roof, two windows were broken, and grout was peeling off the walls; nevermind the rampant front lawn and its dying flower bed.
Minho had inherited the house after his parents had passed – his Alpha father in battle, his Omega mother from tuberculosis. It was a blessing because Minho would never have to pay rent again. It was also a curse, because his pack didn’t have the time or means to take proper care of it.
It was Felix who opened the door.
“Hyung!” The Omega said with a delighted smile, instantly pulling Changbin into a hug.
“Hey, Yongbok,” he said with a smile, giving Felix a one-armed hug, since he had to brace himself on his cane with the other. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Are you here for Hyunjin?” Felix asked immediately when they let go. “Because he’s at work right now.”
“Oh. No, actually...” Changbin said, fighting off a blush. He nodded toward the huge suitcase next to him. “I’ve come to bring Jisung’s stuff.”
“I see. Come in!” Felix said, going for the suitcase. “Oh, it’s quite heavy. Don’t tell me you’ve carried it all the way.”
Changbin shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle. How he wished. He used to be so strong, carrying sandbags over miles as a warm-up during his military training. The long walk here with the suitcase would’ve been nothing if it wasn’t for his leg.
“I took my dad’s car,” he explained, nodding back at the Ford parked by the curb. It was shiny, beautiful, expensive, and utterly misplaced in front of the worn-down house.
Changbin felt like an asshole. Maybe he should have walked after all, his leg be damned.
Felix didn’t seem to mindthough, and Changbin followed him inside. He couldn’t help but notice the quiet of the house.
“Minho isn’t there?”
“He’s at the playground with Chan,” Felix explained as they entered the living room, putting the suitcase down by the door. “They should be back soon, though. You can wait here if you want. Make yourself at home, I’ll make us some tea.”
“That would be lovely,” Changbin smiled and Felix left for the kitchen.
Changbin took a look around; it was his first time standing inside.
The interior looked better than what the outside promised. The wooden floorboards were creaking with every step and the furniture must have been from the last century, but itlooked clean and tidy – with the exception of a stuffed animal that Changbin almost stepped on. He bent down to pick it up. It was a little gray wolf.
“Oh, Channie must have dropped it earlier,” Felix said as he came back carrying a tray. “I better not forget to put it back in his bed or else he’ll throw a tantrum.”
Changbin smiled and sat down on the couch, putting the wolf next to him. “You and Channie weren’t at the funeral.”
Felix put the tray on the tiled coffee table and distributed their cups. “Yeah. I stayed here to watch over him. I think the kid should have had the chance to say goodbye to his father, but Minho said it would be better this way. I didn’t have to heart to argue with him.”
Changbin nodded in understanding, watching as Felix poured them freshly brewed green tea.
“How’s pack life?”
Felix sighed.
“It’s good, but not ideal. Seungmin’s doing his best, but he is only a Beta.”
Changbin nodded in understanding. When the war had started and Alphas all over the country had to enlist, Omegas had started to form pseudo packs to support each other. For someit was a temporary solution. For other Omegas like Minho, who had a dead mate and children to take care of, it would have to be indefinite.
The economy of their country had collapsed due to the war; many people had lost their jobs, among them Felix. Those who were lucky enough to keep their jobs, like Hyunjin and Seungmin, barely made enough to feed themselves- let alone a pack of five that was expecting a sixth member.
Still, it was a blessing they were supporting each other the way they did; most of them had lost family members themselves, be it Alphas in battle or others due to aerial attacks or diseases. This was the best way to survive at the moment, though their pack was missing an Alpha.
Only an Alpha was able to form a proper pack bond. Without one, the pack wasn’t stable; the Omega’s cycles weren’t regulated, and the dynamics were off balance. Seungmin, as theonly Beta, had assumed the leader role, but it wasn’t ideal.
Jisung hadn’t been able to become their pack Alpha, at least not while the war had been raging and he’d been physically separated from them most of the time. Jisung had promised to become their pack leader once the war was overbut that was no longer an option.
“Do you think you guys could find an Alpha eventually?” Changbin asked, warming his hands on the cup. Felix and Hyunjin were both single Omegas – and beautiful ones at that, so he doubted there weren’t any options. If any one of them got mated, that Alpha could become their pack leader.
Felix shrugged, avoiding his gaze.
“I doubt it.”
Changbin noticed Felix’s mood shift.
“Why?”
Felix hesitated, sipping tea slowly. He gulped, opened his mouth, closed it again. He opened it again to finally speak;
“We-”
Just that moment, they heard a key turning in the front door.
“Take your shoes off and head to the bathroom, Channie, or you’ll get sand all over the floor,” Minho said, followed by quick little steps on the creaky floor. Another set of steps came closer to them. “Felix, could you-”
Minho came into the living room entrance and froze as he spotted Changbin.
Changbin gulped down a sip of tea.
“Hello,” he said very quietly, scolding himself internally for his lack of confidence. They hadn’t seen each other since he had bolted out of the funeral the day before.
Minho blinked a few times, staying scarily quiet, and Changbin couldn’t figure out what he was thinking for the life of him. He could be mad, or he might as well just be confused.
“Felix, would you be so kind and give Channie a quick shower?” Minho asked without taking his eyes off the Alpha. “He’s got sand and dirt in his clothes and hair.”
“Of course,” Felix said without hesitation and abandoned his cup of tea to rush past Minho.
Minho didn’t move closer at first. His long brown hair was tousled from the wind. He didn't even take his coat off. It was ripped in some places and missing a button. Must have belonged to his father, with the sleeves being slightly too long for him.
“What are you doing here?” Minho asked in a monotone, posture rigid underneath the oversized coat. He didn’t sound particularly angry, but he wasn’t excited either.
Minho had never been the angry type, not really. He was the quiet and reserved type – except when it came to Jisung. He seemed to be able to touch a part of the Omega that no one else knew how to access, bringing out a side that was playful and fun.
Changbin wondered if that part was still inside of Minho, or if it had died along with Jisung.
Changbin stood up, feeling awfully small when Minho was staring him down like that – intense brown eyes picking him apart.
“I brought Jisung’s belongings,” he said, pointing at the suitcase.
Minho didn’t give it more than a quick glance.
“Great. Thanks. You may leave now.”
“I also have this,” Changbin said quickly, pulling an envelope out of his inner coat pocket
Minho’s frozen facade broke for a split second showing the slightest bit of – what, exactly? Surprise? Disbelief? Shock? But then Minho gulped and put his stone face on again. He tookit from Changbin gently.
Changbin didn’t even know what was inside. Jisung had just made him promise that he would bring it to Minho if he didn’t make it. He told him he didn’t care if they couldn’t bring hisbody, but Minho needed to have this, and that Jisung’s ghost would haunt Changbin and piss in his drinking water for rest of his life if he opened it first.
Thus, Changbin was watching anxiously, desperate to know what was inside. Minho kept staring and staring, tracing the edges with a thumb and then...
He turned around and placed the envelope on top of the shelf next to the door.
“Thanks.”
Changbin was dumbfounded.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
“I already know what’s inside.”
Changbin stared at him for a moment.
“Well, what is it?”
Minho turned around and gave him another cold stare.
“I don’t know why that’s any of your business.”
Changbin swallowed, taking a step back.
“Okay. I'm sorry.”
“Look, Changbin,” Minho sighed, forcing his tense shoulders to sag. “I can sense that you’re about to shit yourself, so let me just clarify that I’m not mad at you.”
“What?” Changbin said in disbelief. “But... but my promise...”
“Screw that,” Minho said, to Changbin’s surprise. “I said that because I was scared. I know it’s not your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Soviets and Americans who brought their stupid war to our land.”
Changbin nodded in agreement, though the guilt didn't quite leave.
“Thanks... For understanding.”
“Sure,” Minho said. “Now, if you don’t mind-”
But he was interrupted by a whirlwind that came running.
“Uncle Binnie!” The four-year-old gasped and threw himself into Changbin’s arms.
“Hey, Channie!” Changbin grinned, lifting the boy up with a spin that caused him to laugh. “Look at you! You’re so tall!”
“And you’re so old!” Channie yelled mischievously.
Changbin just laughed.
It was only around four months ago when Changbin had seen the boy last, when he and Jisung had visited their hometown for a week. It was a break they had been granted before they were to be relocated at the border – the place where Jisung had met his tragic fate only days before the ceasefire had been declared.
“Will you play with me, Uncle?” Chan asked when Changbin put him back down again.
“Actually, Changbin was just about to leave,” Minho said before Changbin could have responded.
“No!” Chan cried, stomping his foot and clinging to Changbin’s good leg. “Can he please stay, meymey? Please, please, please?”
Changbin patted his damp hair, looking up at Minho expectantly.
“I would love to play with Channie for a bit.”
Minho sighed, and finally, for the first time, he gave him a small smile. “Alright.”
“Yay!” Chan cheered, jumping up and down.
“But only for an hour,” Minho insisted. “It’s already pretty late.”
“Of course,” Changbin agreed as Chan was already pulling him away by his sleeve.
“I have to show you all my new toys!” Chan said, pulling a toy box out of a corner and carelessly spilling the contents all over the floor.
From the kitchen, Minho had an open view into the living room, where his dead husband’s best friend was currently playing with his son. He was scowling, yes, but not because of Changbin. Minho didn’t have the time nor the mental capacity to be mad at Changbin – there were much more important things for him to worry about.
“I don’t have to take it,” Felix said into the quiet, who was sitting at the table next to him chopping vegetables.
Even though Minho hadn’t said anything, Felix knew exactly why he was brooding.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need this job.”
Felix had been looking for a decent paying job for so long, wanting to help the pack’s financial situation. Today, he had finally received an acceptance letter from an interpreter’soffice.
It was an amazing opportunity; many American soldiers were remaining in South Korea after the war, so translators for the English language were in high demand. Felix had been raisedbilingual – before his Australian father had been drafted for World War Two and caught a Japanese bullet in the head when Felix was only fourteen years old.
“Yes, but who’s going to help you at home?” Felix asked, putting his knife aside to look at Minho instead.
“I’m a big boy, Lix. I can handle it.”
“You’re pregnant is what you are,” Felix stated. “You’re a pregnant Omega with a toddler and a dead mate.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Felix clicked his tongue. “I’m just saying. Who’ll take care of Channie when you spend the entire day puking again? Or when your belly gets too big for you to stand up for more than tenminutes? Who’s going to run errands, take the boy to doctor’s appointments, cook meals, clean the house? When do you plan to take your time and grieve at all?”
Minho stood up, turning around with his arms crossed. “Let that be my problem.”
“Okay, whatever, but the other things are still true,” Felix insisted. “What are you going to do when Seungmin, Hyunjin and I are out working all the time?”
“I don’t know, okay!” Minho said as he turned back around, lowering his voice so Chan and Changbin wouldn’t hear him yell. “I’ll figure it out, but that job is too important. We needmoney, exactly because I’m pregnant and we’ll have another mouth to feed in this already malnourished pack.”
That seemed to stun Felix, for he could only stare at Minho guiltily.
It was moments like these that Minho wished they had a proper pack leader, one who called the shots and made these important decisions for them, but they didn’t have that luxury. They had been living as an Alpha-less pack for around two years now, only having each other to depend on.
If Minho had to assume the voice of reason and rationality, he would, because he knew it was best for the pack – even if his inner Omega was screaming at him to put the well-being of everyone first, especially the pups.
It felt like he was going against his very nature. While Omegas cared about emotions and family, Alphas were rather concerned about rationality and survival, and Betas were able tolook at both sides objectively and mediate. Those were the ideal dynamics for a balanced and functioning pack, but they had to try nevertheless.
Felix went back to chopping the veggies. “What about Changbin?”
At that, Minho looked back at the mentioned man. He was focused on helping Chan build a tower of building blocks and joined the kid’s tantrum when it all fell over.
“What about him?” Minho asked warily.
“Why not ask him for help?”
Minho looked back at Felix as if he had suggested something insane. “Why would I?”
“Why not?” Felix shrugged. “Isn’t he retired? He must have plenty of time on his hands at the moment. Plus, he seems to be getting along well with Channie.”
He was right about the last part; Channie adored his godfather, no matter he hadn’t seen him in a while, and vice versa. Yet, something in Minho was reluctant to ask an outsider forhelp.
“I don’t know,” Minho replied honestly. He watched Changbin play-wrestle with Chan . “He’s an Alpha. What does he know about household chores?”
“Don’t be so prejudiced,” Felix argued. “He’ll learn.”
Minho kept watching Changbin, crossing his arms. “He’s not even pack.”
“So what?” Felix asked, standing up to dispose some potato peel. “I’m not saying we have to adopt him, but come on, Hyung. Jisung was like a brother to him. I bet he’d be happy tohelp.”
Minho sighed. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
It was only two nights later, when Minho woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, that he truly realized how helpless he would be once he’d be home alone.
He’d had a good run in the past days. The first trimester was almost over, and the morning sickness – or how he called it, his always-sickness, because it never really left him alone - had finally started to get better. If he ignored his moody appetite and constant fatigue, he could almost pretend as if he wasn’t pregnant at all.
But then came that night, when he doubled over half-asleep and emptied half of his scarce dinner in the bucket he kept next to his bed, and the other half on the floor because he missed the bucket in his frenzy.
Hyunjin was awake and by his side in an instant. They took turns sleeping next to Minho, in a bed that was originally meant to be a nest he’d share with Jisung. He had never asked, the others had just started doing it at some point after the first year or so when they noticed how much being separated from his mate was wearing Minho down. And he was thankful for it, especially in moments like these.
Hyunjin cleaned him, cleaned the floor, rinsed the bucket so Minho wouldn’t have to smell his own puke and cause more nausea, a put a wet cloth on his forehead. Minho was in a fever dream, drifting in and out of sleep, until the first sun rays made it through the window and the door to the bedroom was opened abruptly.
“Meymey!”
Chan’s voice startled Minho wide awake. He detangled himself from Hyunjin’s arms, sitting up quickly – too quickly. The world spun like a carousel, along with his stomach.
Felix rushed into the picture, dragging Chan away.
“Let your meymey sleep, yeah? Come, I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“But I want to play with meymey!” He heard Chan’s sulky voice from farther away,
“He is sick, Channie,” Felix explained. “He needs to rest. I will play with you, come on.”
The door was closed again. Minho looked at the clock above. It was almost seven in the morning, his usual wake-up time. He went to the bathroom to pee and get ready for the day, however, he barely touched his toothbrush when he had to puke again. When he was done, he was on the floor with his back against the wall, a sheen of sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead. It was a miracle he didn’t get any vomit on his tousled hair.
Hyunjin found him with his head against the wall after a few minutes. Wordlessly, he wiped the sweat off Minho’s face and helped him back into bed. Minho felt disgusting, he musthave smelled awful, yet Hyunjin pulled him into his arms.
“You’re so pale,” Hyunjin noticed, gently pushing the greasy hair out of Minho’s face.
“You’re so annoying,” Minho retorted, though there was no ill intent.
“There he is,” Hyunjin said, and Minho could hear his fond smile. Hyunjin knew that he was getting better if he had the energy to be mean again.
After a few minutes, Minho said;
“I need to get up.”
“Stay,” Hyunjin commanded gently. “You need to rest.”
“But Channie-”
“Felix got it.”
“I’m useless,” Minho whined.
“No,” Hyunjin murmured, kissing his forehead. “You’re pregnant.”
If Minho’s eyes were open, he’d be rolling them hard enough to hurt. “You don’t say.” Why did everyone feel entitled to remind him of that these days? “Only a few more weeks and people will start asking if I got knocked up or just fat.”
“And what will you say?”
“Why not both?” He responded. “I gave birth and ate the baby.”
Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re as insane as the day I met you.”
Minho found the energy for a slight grin. “Whatever it takes to shut them up. None of their stupid business unless they want to sponsor the little shit.”
“Don’t talk like that about him.”
“Who says it’ll be a boy?”
“You want a girl, then?”
“I just want someone who won’t be drafted.”
Silence. Hyunjin’s hand froze for a split second, then proceeded to stroke his hair. “When will you cut your hair?” He asked, changing the topic.
“Soon,” Minho promised. Omegas typically wore their hair longer, males and females alike – Hyunjin and Felix liked to have their hair touch just their shoulders. But when an Omega’smate dies, it is traditional for the widowed Omega to cut it off. It was a sign of mourning to others, but was also a sacrifice for the mate: the more hair you cut off, the better your mate’s fortune in the afterlife.
Some followed it like a religious ritual, others thought it was just superstition – Minho used to believe he was of the latter group. But now that he was in the position, he’d found himself wanting to do it.
Just in case, he told himself. He just hadn’t found the time yet.
“Well, don’t wait for too long,” Hyunjin said, untangling a knot in Minho’s long hair.
They fell into silence after that, and Minho relished the feeling of Hyunjin’s care, so glad he was there for him.
This week, Hyunjin worked the late shift - he and Seungmin were part of the many people who had a factory job with rotating shifts. The hours were long and the payment could be better, but it was stable – better than the other half of the population who worked in agriculture. The company they worked for was one of their country’s major weapon manufacturers.
Unfortunately, assembly line workers weren’t at the receiving end of the insane profit they made due to the war.
Minho realized, once again, how much he depended on his pack. Right now, if it wasn’t for Seungmin being at that underpaid job, if it wasn’t for Felix entertaining his toddler, if it wasn’tfor Hyunjin taking care of his sick, pregnant self – what then?
He was screwed. Soon, Felix had a job too, and there wouldn’t be an extra person around. Soon, Minho wouldn’t be able to afford feeling sick. Soon, he’d be on his own in that house with its leaking sink, with the broken window in the bathroom, with the hole in the roof and water damage in the attic.
He’d be alone with his child. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with Jisung’s ghost.