《stray together》

Nostalgia

Jeongin always felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, but he still did the same thing every year, attending church around Joon's anniversary. His parents had his brother's ashes, and Byunghyuk's were scattered into the ocean, so it wasn't like there was a grave site or memorial shrine he could go to. It felt like the only place he could visit and talk to his lost loved ones. He still hung onto hope that one day he would see them again, in whatever way the afterlife looked like.

It became a tradition. He would attend the service, stay and pray for a while, talk to Joon and Byunghyuk, and then leave two roses in the pew where he sat. He was sure whoever eventually found the flowers would be utterly confused, but it was his way of paying respects. He also used it as a time to apologize for the innocent lives he took. He knew he was nowhere near perfect, and that asking for forgiveness was comical at that point in his life, but the family of his brother's murderer was still one thing he regretted.

Bones feeling flimsy, skin feeling thick, eyes feeling heavy, Lino stirred, trying to open his eyes and cross the line that held him under unconsciousness. He always slept heavier after dissociating, and after Han had brought him back the night before, there was still this lingering thought he couldn't let go of, exhausting him mentally.

He left his claim.

Lino didn't even realize that his subconscious started crying at the thought, didn't feel the warm tears as they fell down his face into his sideburns, didn't recognize the shift in his breathing, still under the blanket of sleep. But Han, who had woken up and had been sitting and just watching Lino sleep for the last hour, had.

Only when his head was cradled, and a soft kiss was placed on his forehead, as a thumb smoothed over his skin to wipe the streaks from tears, did Lino wake up. Only then did he realize he was crying. Only then did he realize he was safe, in Han's embrace.

"Sung," Lino said, voice rough from sleep, but choked from crying. It wasn't a question, he knew who held him. It wasn't a demand to give him space. It was an anchor.

"I'm here." Han softly said, understanding. "You're okay."

Was it considered a nightmare? Lino wasn't sure. All he knew was that no matter what happened in his past, Han was there now, and he was safe.

"I'm sorry. When I woke up, I had to go to the restroom and when I got back, you looked so tired, I didn't want to accidentally wake you." Han gently explained why, for the first time in a long time, Lino woke up without being wrapped in his arms.

Lino curled his own arms around Han, pulling him closer. Reaching for comfort. Seeking it. Asking for it.

"You're with me, he can't hurt you." Han reminded, a promise of protection, tightening his hold around Lino as the elder was silently requesting. "I've got you."

Then, suddenly, Lino asked. "What is it? A shape? A letter?"

Han felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He was asking about the scar burned into his skin. Han sighed as he squeezed even that much more, "A letter."

Lino never knew his abusers' names, just what they made him call them. A letter was a piece of information about his captor that he hadn't known. A piece of information that was crucial. "Tell me."

Even though it pained him, Han answered, "ㅅ."

Then, Lino remembered a detail he had long forgotten. A ring that his abuser wore, simple, with a raised design. He wondered if that must have been the same letter. Panic ricocheted in his chest. "Please, take my knife, slice through it, mark it out." Lino asked, throwing Han completely off guard.