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Title: Quincux
Pairing: ot5, as in all pairings seperate and then eventual togetherness.
Warning: Possible character death, future blood, future injury, possible angst
Genre: AU, Supernatural/Fantasy (the lines have blurred)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It all started when Jonghyun broke out of the facility.

Author's Note: This was something hibikiecho and I wrote together a while ago, but she kind of...didn't write as much as me and ended up losng interet so she gave the idea to me so I could finish it. Now, I was going to post this after I finished Fences but due to school and family problems I haven't been able to finish the second part. So, to stall, I'll post this. Sorry for the delay guys, I'll try and finish as fast as I can.

It was too big. Part Two

As more and more people began to fill the room, Jinki picked up the remote control on his right and, dutifully, turned on the television for them. He knew that they would want to watch. He even turned the volume up, all the way to its limit, because they couldn’t hear it over the sounds of their work. Finally, after several minutes of enduring their complaints, they found their seats.

Smiling, he turned away from them and hid in the back room. His face hurt from smiling as big as he did but he had to at least act like he was as excited as they. He rounded the corner of the dark, dusty room and grabbed bottled water from the corner.

He wasn’t thirsty.

He unscrewed the top slowly, reveling in the fact that he was about to do this. As he reached the end of the room he slowed and leaned against the wall. He glanced up at the ceiling, glancing at the fluorescent light fixture that had only half of its bulbs lit. It made the room look less kept than it truly was but Jinki couldn’t find replacements for the dead light bulbs. The others didn’t seem to care about the well-being of the backroom.

Shaking his head, he sighed once more. The dust floating in the air caught in his throat, making his throat itch. He would have coughed but he held it back; instead he let out dry rasps as the urge to cough subsided. He couldn’t make any loud noises. Anything that disrupted the news would bring its audience to quick fury and he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with something like that right now.

Jinki shifted, moving the bottle away from the dusty wall. He took a deep breath (once again ignoring the dust) and exhaled slowly. Eyes locked on the drink, he kept the pace going. Breathe in. Breathe out. Check the water. He did this several times before, closing his eyes and shaking the tension out of his shoulders.

He was ready.

He breathed in, pupils shivering as the water in the bottle pulsed. He exhaled. The water snaked out of the bottle, twirling and curling into itself. It melded several times as it inclined, drops that had separated floated beside the wave of motion. It was beautiful. So beautiful.

But forbidden.

Jinki let his concentration break, moving his eyes elsewhere. The water fell instantaneously, wetting his hand and shoes. He made sure it didn’t fall on his clothing. He crouched down, using his charm to pull a few stray splashes out of the fabric of his pants. Then, seemingly careless, he dropped the rest of the bottle.

It let out a soft tap as it rebounded off the floor and settled. Still mostly full, the bottle began emptying its contents. Entranced, he watched the water flow out of the bottle. It covered the ground shapeless, without aim or guidance, and Jinki felt the urge to use his power once more.

Scowling at the idea, Jinki turned roughly away from the bottle. He walked quickly, the stress released from using his power slowly manifesting once more as he approached the entrance. He paused at the door, his palm flat against the door’s surface. He glanced back at the water thoughtfully. Quickly, he pulled a bit of the water towards him and let it pour on the tops of his shoes.

When he walked back to the front, everyone was talking – something unusual when the news was on.

Walking slowly, he nearly bumped into Jiro who was quickly wrapping a mille-feuille in a napkin. He waited a moment for the young man to notice him, before losing his patience and tapping his shoulder.

Jiro held up a finger, biting his lip as he tried to fold the napkin into a pretty design. As the creation slowly came to completion, Jiro’s eyes flickered to him. Gasping, he jumped up and looked like he was about to bow in apology- but there wasn’t enough room.

“I’m sorry, Jinki. I didn’t know it was you.” Jiro admitted, folding the corners and stuffing the pastry into a thin paper bag. He gave it a proud smile before turning to Jinki curiously. Truthfully, Jinki couldn’t understand why he put so much work into something so small, especially in a city like this that wouldn’t appreciate it. He didn’t belong here. Jiro should be in a fancy restaurant, giving his garnishes to people who would appreciate his talent. Not to these—

“Jinki?” Jiro asked again, looking concerned.

“I’m sorry; my mind was in another place.” He smiled but it was smaller than usual.

“Ah,” Jiro said, turning toward a customer and sliding her pastry toward her. Said woman, tore into the bag and ate the pastry as if she was angry. She mumbled something under her breath as she finished it, eyes locked on the rambling screen before she stomped out of the cafe. Jiro’s napkin was thrown away.

“You’re upset about the news too?” The young boy continued. Jinki searched his eyes for any sign of hurt but he found none. He decided to ignore it as well.

“What news?”

“Apparently, a man escaped one of the Pseudo facilities early this morning. They said he was armed and dangerous, easily angered and hot-tempered. You know, the usual.” He shrugged his shoulders, moving to the sink to wet the rag on the counter.

“Escaped?” Jinki whispered.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it either but they had a tape and everything.” Jiro began washing the dishes. “It had to be real, there was blood and all. The guy was going insane trying to get out of that place.”

Jinki didn’t blame him. He’d heard that it was hell inside there. He nodded to keep Jiro talking.

“Here’s the best thing though—that guy, he had some crazy superhero stuff going on.” Jiro laughed, his hand slipping and dropping a plate back into the dishwater. “It was insane!”

“Did he get caught?” Jinki found himself asking before he could catch himself. His tone didn’t sound suspicious but some might be offended that he doubted the powers of Pseudo. Jinki lost count of the times he had been beat for thinking Pseudo’s failure was possible.

“Actually, no.”

No? Jinki blinked. “What?”

“Pseudo couldn’t catch him.” Jiro explained. “That’s why everyone's in an uproar, they think he actually got loose and is still hiding in our city.”

“You don’t believe he escaped.” It wasn’t a question and it caught some of his disappointment.

Jiro noticed and spoke, offended. “Of course I don’t! Pseudo hasn’t lost a person in years – this is obviously just a stunt to get them publicity. Not even a super powered guy like that could stop them.” He huffed, moving to drain the water. “I’m sure of it.”

Jinki nodded a few times, tilting his head this way and that as if he was actually thinking his opinion through. Jiro didn’t seem to notice his act and calmed down considerably. He waited by Jinki’s side a bit, as if expecting him to say something else and when he didn’t he moved around him and got to work again.

Jinki was left alone.

He grabbed one of the spare bar chairs behind him and pulled it up the counter to sit. Resting, he placed his head on his arms and let out a deep breath. He felt the water in the air, felt it surrounding him and relaxed. He needed to rest and process this new information later. This was all too much to take in at one time, and his head was beginning to hurt.

Sighing, he kept doing his breathing exercises. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly, blessed sleep snatched him and hurled him into the world of unconsciousness.

- - - - -


When he slept, he didn’t dream. All he saw was himself and darkness. There were a few occasions where he’d actually be somewhere. A place with water, like the ocean or the beach. Those dreams were nice.

“Hey. Get up.”

There were even times where people would be with him, like his mother and father. There were a few about him and his brother, but those quickly turned into nightmares. When he had those dreams, he’d wake up crying or sweating, filled with remorse. He hated those dreams.


Jinki jolted away, furiously rubbing his eyes as he looked for the owner of the voice. With bleary eyes, he stared at the kid in front of him. Jinki already knew that he wasn’t happy. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and gave the guy a look to go ahead and speak. The kid’s eyes narrowed.

“I would like to order something.” He said, entitled.

Jinki frowned at his tone. He made a flippant wave, urging the boy to continue.

“I’d like a latte and a bottled-water. Oh, I’m kind of in a rush so if you could move quicker than that it would be nice.”

The young man then smiled but it was sarcastic and his eyes still held the venom that he had before. Jinki let out a groan, pretending to be reluctant to move out of spite. The intensified fury in his customer’s eyes filled him with joy and he quickly scooted away from the counter.

Yawning, he reached for the cabinet handle. As he made contact the metal surface shocked him, making him yelp and yank his hand back. He shook it, cursing under his breath as he heard the boy behind him laugh.

“Something wrong?”

Jinki scowled.

He reached for the cabinet handle again, slightly hesitant. It shocked him again, but he didn’t pull his hand away; instead, he snatched the cabinet open. He heard the boy behind him snort as he did a pitiful job of holding back what probably would have been an obnoxious laugh. He began pulling cups and measuring tools down, placing them in no specific order on the counter hastily. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

He made quick work of grabbing the milk, coffee (made beforehand but still hot), sugar and ground chocolate. Each of the ingredients sat beside their respective measuring tools as Jinki paused to gather his thoughts. He poured milk into the metal steam cup, flinching once more when the cup shocked him. He grasped the cup tightly, defiant, gritting his teeth when the cup not only shocked him again but several times over until he placed it in the steamer. As he let it go, he struggled to stretch his fingers, cursing.

“I’ve heard water helps get rid of static electricity…” The boy behind him said softly, his eyes narrowing with thought.

Jinki let out a short laugh. “I don’t think water is going to help this.”

He heard the boy huff from behind him. “Fine, don’t listen to me.”

Jinki went back and took the milk quickly from the steamer. He began mixing the other ingredients together before he put them in a plastic cup. With some difficulty, he faced the strangely quiet boy with a smile. He held out the cup, waiting for the boy to grab it but he was slow to react. Impatiently, he shoved the cup a bit forward just as he reached for it. The boy caught the cup but he caught a bit of Jinki’s hand as well.

The contact sent a violent shiver through both of them. With horror, Jinki realized that he couldn’t move and neither could the boy, apparently. Then slowly, the boy made eye contact with him and shuddered as his eyes dilated. His breath caught.

Jinki felt warm for a brief moment before his entire body was trapped in mind-blowing pain. He opened his mouth, trying to scream but he couldn’t. His entire body felt tense and tight as he struggled to stop the pain. Using more force than necessary, he yanked his arm back and forced himself to let go of the cup. His elbow hit the countertop but he couldn’t feel that, all he could feel was the horrible stinging sensation that was taking over his nervous system.

He struggled to make slow breaths, heaving as the pain began to settle.

When the final aftershocks had died down, he steadied himself and stared at the boy. He was staring at Jinki with a horrified expression on his face. And Jinki knew exactly why. This boy had powers like he did.

He expected the kid to say something, but he was silent. Thawing from his previous state, he slowly let his arm come back to him. He inclined his head toward his drink as if he was going to drink it, but simply stared at the top. He could see the boy’s eyes flickering and knew he was plotting, trying to think of a way to save himself.

There was no reason to be afraid of Jinki, but he wasn’t ready to just announce that he was a freak to a stranger, even if they were similar because of it.

The boy looked up slowly, first at Jinki and then at the counter. He then looked toward the door.

“Don’t,” Jinki ordered, already catching up to his plan. “Don’t you dare…”

The boy looked back to Jinki from the corner of his eyes before a smirk grew across his face. He practically lunged across the room, flung the store door open and was out of the room before Jinki could say another word.

Gaping, he watched the door dumbly before pulling himself over the counter and running out of the door while giving the lame excuse of “He didn’t pay!”

He knew he wouldn’t get fired. It wouldn’t matter if he did anyway. Nothing else seemed to matter now that he found this boy because he knew that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only freak in this world. There was no way in hell he was letting this boy get away.

Kibum ran quickly, hurriedly taking a hot sip of his latte. He stumbled a bit trying to round the corner but caught himself in enough time to regain his momentum. His bag was beating against his chest, occasionally knocking the air out of his lungs as he ran. He took a quick look behind him, letting out a gasp of disbelief when the coffee maker came around the corner, eyes wide and determined.

This was unbelievable.

He lifted his bag’s strap higher up on his shoulder and did a hard left, moving into a mass of people. He could almost imagine the frustration on that guy’s face when he saw him do that. If Kibum was anything, he was crafty and he knew how to make people lose his trail. He took another look behind him. That man was walking through the mob as well, but it seemed he’d lost sight of Kibum. For now.

Taking the opportunity, he began to file out of the crowd. If he was lucky, the guy wouldn’t notice the change and would simply become lost in the people. He frowned, wrinkling his nose as he happened to bump into a person that reeked of sweat. As if a switch had been flipped, Kibum became hyper-aware of the scents of all the people he passed. As he became more and more repulsed with the smells, his charm defensively reached out and whipped a few people he passed. He didn’t bother control it.

He finally managed to escape the foul mass of people and briskly began walking away from the crowd. The streetlights would be turning green soon and with that change, the streets would clear. He only had a few more moments to make distance between him and his pursuer.

As he turned around yet another corner, he allowed himself to rest. The coffee maker was nowhere to be found. He had lost him.

He adjusted his bag again, moving quickly as he looked at his watch. The chase had taken up almost all of his time but, Kibum realized, if he took an alternate route he could get to the Public Library five minutes late instead of twenty.

Sighing, he took a brief look around to orient himself before crossing the street and going down an alley. He paused at the entrance. It was dirtier than he remembered but he had no time to dwell on the fact and he continued down the alley.

The alley was practically empty. It had one forgotten dumpster on the far right side of its girth and a few shallow puddles here and there, but other than that there was nothing blocking his path. It was a old passage. The concrete that the outside world was made of changed and turned into misplaced and weathered stone bricks. There were a few torn posters on the walls but they were illegible.

Kibum’s pace slowed as he looked around with a smile. He loved this route. It felt like he was stepping into a different world when he went down the alley. The path was small and the walls that surrounded it smothered most of the city noise. There weren’t any streetlights in the path, so it was dark and easy for him to get lost in his thoughts. If it wasn’t so dirty, he would have stayed here on his break instead of trying to get a drink at that cafe.

His watch began to vibrate furiously on his wrist, alerting him that he should be at work by now. It snapped him out of his trance and he once again began his steady tread.

As he exited the alley, he bumped into someone with so much force they were both knocked to the ground. The boy he bumped into cursed softly, snatching a watch and some other small jewelry he had been carrying from the ground. Kibum watched with slight interest as the boy seemingly didn’t notice that he had knocked someone over and began to frantically pick up the numerous items he had dropped on his descent.

As he finished, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder with some difficulty, bouncing on his feet before sprinting down the sidewalk.

Dumbly, Kibum sat there for a few moments before collecting himself. He brushed some dirt off of his clothes and pants before looking at his watch. He frowned, he only had a few more minutes left. If it hadn’t been for that boy distracting him he could have been there already, he thought as he stared at the boy. Said boy was still fidgeting on his feet, compulsively looking left and right down the busy street as he waited for the light to change to red. He adjusted his bag again, grimacing as the bag seemed too heavy for him.

The action made Kibum reach for his bag strap subconsciously. His hand closed around his shirt, groping the air for the strap he thought was there. Kibum looked down, frantic. He didn’t have his bag. Where did—
He whipped his head back to the boy who at the exact time turned to give a wide-eyed scared look behind him. His knuckles went white as he clenched the bag in his hands. Hesitantly, he turned back around stiffly, feigning innocence.

“Hey!” Kibum shouted, starting toward the boy.

The yell made the boy flinch and shrink a bit as he clung closer to the bag, but he refused to acknowledge Kibum. The cars on the left side of the road were slowing as the green light flicked to yellow. The boy tensed, fidgeting furiously as his eyes locked on the streetlight.

“Hey, Thief, give me back my bag!” Kibum hollered helplessly as he began to run towards him.

The light turned red.

The boy sprinted across the street but Kibum wasn’t far behind him. He had to stifle the thousands of insults he wanted to fling at the boy for later so he could save his oxygen for running. He could hear the boy let out a strange mixture of whimpers and pants as he ran, the bag was slowing him down dramatically, but he wouldn’t let go. He dug his foot into the sidewalk and flung it back, flinging pebbles and trash purposely into Kibum’s direction. Kibum refused to let it bother him, snatching the discarded papers off of his clothes as he ran.

He didn’t care if he was late to work, that bag was important. All of his supplies and materials were in that bag and he refused to replace something he could get back on his own. He didn’t have enough money to even think that was an option.

“Stop, damn it!” Someone from behind him screeched, out of breath.

Kibum let out a loud groan, flinging trash that the thief threw at him behind him. The shocked yelp he got was satisfying, but didn’t stop the fact that the coffee maker was still following him. He wasn’t going to make it to work on time—no, he wasn’t going to make it to work at all today. Resigning himself to that fate, he ignored the yells of the man chasing him and continued to pursue the boy.