Chapter Text
He laughs in bright suns and blooming springs. There is a fissure between his ribs holding place for kindness. And his hands, his hands heal, fingers that paint lines of warmth through surfaces of skin. Then there’s an invisible thread, connecting this sun and this kindness and warmth to the healing; the healing is the source, the healing holds the highest value. Felix is the one who can heal. Inevitably, Felix is valuable.
Then, an anomaly.
—--------------------------------
There’s only one more patient, and it’s Changbin. The older had come in after a spar with Hyunjin, the beginning of mottled purple and yellow lining his ribcage. They’re just bruises; Felix can heal those in under a minute.
“Hold still!” He tugs Changbin down to the nearest chair, reaching around him to press ointment over the sore area.
“Yah!” Changbin hisses, jolting away from Felix’s touch. “Be gentle!”
“It won't hurt if you sit still,” Felix counters, nose scrunching. “You’re so squirmy.”
Changbin huffs, hair blowing across his face. His bangs are overgrown, and they just barely cover the scar he has through his eyebrow. “Well, it hurts.”
There’s a wince from the entrance of the infirmary, and both boys whip their heads around to face the newcomer. It’s Hyunjin that’s standing sheepishly in the doorway, guilt plastered across his face.
Felix sighs.
“I’m so sorry, hyung!” Hyunjin throws his hands around as he speaks. “I shouldn’t have gone so hard, I- I’ve just never beaten you in a spar before, and Minho-hyung showed me this weird front kick so I-”
“Jinnie,” Changbin interrupts, a sudden smile splitting across his face. “You did great. Whatever it was, it worked. And-” Felix rolls his eyes for what he knows is coming, “It was incredibly sexy.”
Hyunjin’s eyes widen, a faint red creeping up his neck. “Hyung, that’s not- you got hurt!”
“Barely,” Changbin smiles goodnaturedly. “Lixie’s fixing me right up. Best medic in the kingdom, isn’t that right?”
The corner of Felix’s lips quirk upwards. He’s almost done. “Not a high bar when I’m the only primary medic in the kingdom, hyung.” Felix places his hand over the source of Changbin’s bruising, the warmth of the injury meeting his palm with a fervor. It’s only a moment of focus; that’s all the energy contusions like this need. Felix pulls his hand away, and the bruises are gone.
Changbin grins broadly. “Doesn’t matter. Amazes me every time, Lix.”
Felix flushes, shoving Changbin by the shoulder. “You’re so cheesy, hyung.”
Changbin only smiles wider, so the younger quickly gets to his feet before the conversation can go any further.
“I’m going to my room!” Felix yells behind him, laughing as Hyunjin half-attempts to coddle him in the doorway. “Don’t do anything nasty on my clinic beds!”
—-----------------------
Sangenors; born of Sangenoric lineage, healers possessing the innate ability to generate an energy known as virel. Virel is documented as capable of absorbing any physical injury.
As of present, only one Sangenor remains to carry the bloodline.
—-----------------------
Felix stares at the ceiling of his room. He has stars there, ones dipped in deep-sea paste Chan had gifted him his last birthday. It’s not dark enough yet, but when the sun sets, they glow a dim kelp-green. Chan always knows exactly what Felix likes.
The boy turns over in bed, and it’s then that he feels a sharp twinge in his side. Felix inhales sharply, the pain only worsening when he shoots upright, sending him keeling over the mattress.
Logically, he knows what the pain is from. However, logically, it should be long gone.
In the healing process, the energy Felix produces works like an absorbing agent; the heat and source of the wound are forcibly reversed, and the energy that caused it in the first place is transferred elsewhere.
Well, transferred onto Felix.
It’s usually not for long, smaller injuries like bruises and cuts leaving his body within minutes, bigger wounds in under half an hour. And no, the boys weren’t aware of this. They had no reason to be, when it would do nothing but worry them. He’s been healing for years with no issues.
That is, until-
It’s been -Felix checks the clock- 42 minutes since he healed Changbin. Hauling himself to his feet, he carefully tiptoes over to the bathroom. His reflection greets him, an exhibition of messy blond in navy blue robes.
He undoes one button. A second, a third, and-
Felix gasps. There it is, creeping down the right of his sternum, a mirage of angry purple-yellow. Identical to what he had just treated in Changbin.
Felix frowns, lifting up a hand to press at the injury. A mistake. It burns, a shock spreading across his entire chest, sending him lurching over the bathroom counter within seconds.
Felix takes in a breath, and another, rapid inhalations to calm his beating heart. He can’t panic. Logically, he knows this is bad, that it needs attention. Logically, he knows this is a problem.
Felix buttons up his robe once more. Closes the curtains in the bathroom to block the light, hobbles back over to his bed. Lies down slowly, lets the warmth consume him. In the moment, chooses to forget. Drifts off to sleep mere minutes later, comforted by his overhead stars beginning to glow.
And if, two hours later when he awakes, Felix’s bruises are gone, he takes it as a sign to ignore the anomaly in its entirety.
—------------------
See, there’s an order to the way Felix functions. Almost 20 years healing, and it’s the same. He wakes up, reads his mother’s journals. Has breakfast with Chan and the rest of the boys, gets a layout of the planned activities for the day. Opens his clinic, takes in the slow trickle of patients that come to court just to see him. Hangs out with the boys again. Maybe he writes, maybe he reads, but it’s all the same. Felix sleeps at night with the comfort that he has a place, he has a role, and his purpose of waking up the next morning is to fill the slot specifically meant for him.
It’s after this first incident with Changbin, a few days later, that he guesses something might be wrong with him. It’s then he also thinks, and not for the first time, that he might not be cut out for this. But he was born a healer, and no fluke would keep him from filling the shoes of his mother.
—----------------------
There’s not another incident until over a week later.
“Everyone ready?” Chan stands at the head of the table, gear fitted in place. His helm is new, Hyunjin’s design, an etched piece in purple and gold.
“We’re leaving as a single fleet. Should be in and out in an hour’s time, hyung.” Minho’s helm alternates in green-gold, a clear indication of his position as Chan’s right hand. He reaches a hand to his belt, and-
“Yah!” Minho’s yell echoes across the dining room. “Who took my knife?”
Sudden laughter rings down the hallway, a screaming Jisung chasing a disheveled Jeongin. And, in Jeongin’s hand-
Felix stifles a laugh.
“Yang Jeongin!” Minho strides over to where the boys are quarreling, removing his weapon from the situation. “What did I tell you about the pickpocketing?”
Jeongin turns a deep shade of pink as he looks up at Minho. Felix catches Chan trying to hide a smile. “Sorry, hyung.”
Minho rolls his eyes, lips quirking, stepping around both Jeongin and Jisung to leave the room. A stray hand pats across Felix’s head as he passes, like the boy is just another one of his cats. Then Minho is gone, and Felix can hear the voices of Hyunjin and Changbin following behind him.
Chan’s chastising Jeongin behind him, but Felix knows he’s not too serious. Jeongin had been last to join their little court, a starving pickpocket Minho had plucked off the streets not two years ago. He feels safer with them now, Felix knows this for sure. He also knows that old habits die hard.
At the other end of the table, Felix catches sight of Seungmin, the boy’s nose deep in a thickly bound book. When he catches Felix looking, though, he waves him over.
“Look at this,” Seungmin whispers, pointing to a poorly drawn sketch on the page, “the raiders we’re going after today have specially crafted spears,” he crosses both of his palms together, “this big, sharper than Minho’s daggers.”
Felix’s eyes widen. “You’re serious?”
Seungmin nods. “You’re coming with us on the field today?”
Felix nods.
Seungmin cracks a crooked grin. “If I were you, I’d bring extra bandag-”
“Kim Seungmin!” Chan appears suddenly, snapping the book shut. Dust billows, and Seungmin coughs. “Don’t scare him. We’ll be just fine.”
Seungmin huffs, lips pouting. “Whatever you say, Your Majesty.”
Chan’s nose crinkles, and Felix has to give it to Seungmin. Chan hates being formally addressed, hates any reminder of his status, really. But before the leader can say anything, Seungmin’s grabbing Jeongin, both of them racing out the door in rapid progression.
And then it’s just Felix and Chan.
Felix has never been sure what to make of their relationship. Close, but not how he’s bonded to Jisung like they’re blood related. Respectful, but not in the way he looks up to Minho. Awkward, sometimes, and sometimes anything but.
He hasn’t found a reason to make full sense of it yet, and he doesn’t see a need to now.
Chan squats down where Felix is sitting, placing a hand on his knee. “You ready, Lix? Feeling good, yeah?”
Felix’s eyes crinkle, and he knows he’s giving Chan the stupidest smile right now. “Hyung. We’ve been over this. Nothing is going to happen.”
This is only Felix’s third time going out on a mission with them. Five years ago, it had been his mother, the best healer in the country, guiding Chan and Minho. With much more experience than the boys, she even taught them the ways of the crown at times. But after she passed, Felix had to step up. It was a terrible loss to the kingdom, and in his grief, Chan hadn’t let Felix remotely near any signs of danger. Eventually, when even Jeongin had been allowed to fight with the court, Felix had spoken up.
Needless to say, he had won the argument.
Chan stands, sighing heavily, hoisting Felix to his feet. “Fine. Remember, you tell me if you think anything’s off, yeah?”
“Of course, hyung.” Felix slings his arm around Chan’s, and they’re off. He understands, in a way, why Chan’s so protective. His mother was assassinated by raiders themselves, anti-Sangenors that believed blood-magic was among the highest of sins. After the incident, Chan had the rest of the clan hunted down, but he’s still wary for Felix’s safety.
Felix understands, he really does, and he’s oh-so grateful. If something happened to him, it would take generations for the kingdom’s healing and recovery process to rework. If Felix was incapable of healing, he would be making things immensely more difficult for hundreds of people.
The journey is anything but silent, the boys carrying out their usual chatter, some interacting with townsfolk as they travel. Felix takes a moment to collect himself, bundled in the corner of their reinforced cart. Now, with a moment to think, he can’t help but go back to-
No. It was just a fluke, that day healing Changbin. He’s had a few townspeople come in for minor ailments since then; a cold, a broken finger. For those he only had minor sniffles for a few minutes, and soreness in his hand for an hour. Maybe a little worse than usual, but nothing like complete injury replication. So it was a fluke, the bruises; a little secret for him to keep. He already told Chan that nothing’s going to happen.
So, nothing will happen.
—--------------------------------------------
The raid comes in an hour past noon.
It’s around when they were expecting; and with it only being one village over, they’re more than prepared in the opening field by the time it arrives. They’ve told the villagers to stay inside, and with time to spare, Felix has settled himself in a heavily wooded blind spot before the action begins. He doesn’t plan on fighting, but he knows he can be a good set of eyes.
“SIGHTING!” Changbin’s bellow is so loud that Felix clamps a hand over his outside ear, crouching in place. Peeking through the bushes, he has a good view of the fight as it begins to unfold.
Ten men, small party. Armed. Felix knows Chan can’t, won’t, attack until they show signs of hostility. It was a passing traveler that gave them the heads up that this village was to be hit within the next moon.
Situations like these, it’s one or the other. Outsiders come in for a trade, or they come in to pillage and destroy.
Felix sees Chan step forward, facing the raider leading the group. Minho hangs back closer to Felix, eyes on their company, hand at his waist. The other boys are scattered in formation, and Felix spots Hyunjin in a neighboring blindspot with his bow drawn.
It clicks.
He sees the way Chan holds his sword away from his body, a clear indication to the foreign group. A simple, ‘Let’s not fight’.
There’s a choice, in that moment. The head raider’s face splits into a smile, and he holds out a hand to shake Chan’s.
A moment, then another. Chan drops his sword to shake the hand. Felix sees the knife coming before anyone has a chance to react. An aborted shout from Minho as he rushes to block it, and chaos erupts.
The opposing side has chosen violence.
The raider’s dagger barely has time to graze Chan’s skin before it’s thrown from his hand, the man screaming as the skin of his wrist is split by an arrow.
Chan, breathless as he breaks into a run, turns to where Hyunjin is emerging. “Nice shot!”
Hyunjin smirks.
It’s a quick fight. After the initial excitement, the rest of the raiders go out like fireflies. Minho, one to show off in hand-to-hand combat, takes two fighters on his own. Jeongin and Changbin take out the leader’s right hand, a burlier middle-aged man. He only lands one hit, and it’s to Jeongin’s shoulder. The younger cries out in pain, and it’s instantaneous, the way Changbin’s eyes light with a new fury. The man is out in the next two blows.
Felix runs from his bushes, ducking a stray arrow as it flies around his head. Rushing to Jeongin’s side, he places both hands on the boy's shoulder. One, two-
Felix winces, a sharp pain striking his own shoulder. His eyes fly open, and Jeongin’s head has whipped to him with alarm.
“Hyung? Is everything-”
“All better, Innie?” Felix puts on his biggest smile, and it’s almost like his own pain lessons at the action.
Jeongin’s expression only falters for a second, and then he’s smiling back, albeit hesitantly. “Yeah. Thanks, hyung. Are you-”
“Duck!” A yell, Jisung, and both Felix and Jeongin fall for cover. It’s two men, one seemingly having escaped from Minho’s fight, hurtling toward them at top speed. Before they’re hit, that is.
The attack surprises Felix just as much as it does the raiders, all he sees of it a cloud of crackling smoke. Then it clears, and the raiders are unconscious.
An all-too smug Seungmin leans over Felix and Jeongin’s crouched forms. “Firework bomb. You’re welcome!”
“Yah!” Jisung screams from across the field, where he’s dragging a flailing raider by the foot. “Those were my idea!”
Felix laughs, willing his heart to calm as he watches the boy finally knock out his opponent. Before he has a chance to think too hard about… anything, Chan comes running over.
“Are you all alright? Shit, they were more prepared than I thought. Is everyone here?” Felix watches as Chan begins a headcount, eyes skimming over Changbin, Hyunjin, stopping at-
“Minho?” Chan’s head is on a swivel, the rest of the boys following his line of sight.
“Hyung!” A shout from all the way across the field, followed by a breathless laugh. “Yah, forgot about me?”
Minho’s stepping over an unconscious form as he turns to face them, holding his arms up in exasperation. “You know, I almost-”
It’s like a movie playing out in slow motion.
A final raider, one they somehow missed, stepping out behind Minho. And in his hand, a spear, disproportionately large and angular like in Seungmin’s book. Then, two sounds in Felix’s ear. The draw of a bowstring, Hyunjin’s fingers moving rapidly to fix an arrow in place. The second, the slice of a weapon, cutting through the leather armor and piercing Minho’s side.
An interruption; a third sound, Hyunjin’s arrow meeting the raider square in the heart. An interruption, though too late.
Minho falls to his knees, and the boys cry out as they rush over to him.
“Hyung??” Jisung is already crying, no doubt spurred by the sight of the crimson beginning to coat Minho’s side. “Hyung, you-”
“God, Minho,” Chan grits his teeth, bending down to move the fighter’s armor out of the way. “How many times have I told you to watch your back?”
“Hyung-” Felix pushes the other boys out of the way. This is his job. This is what he’s here for. How could this have happened? Why wasn’t he keeping watch? “Hyung, lie down.”
Minho groans, sweat beading along his neck. “Yongbok-ah, it’s really only a scratch. Just let me-”
“Stay down,” Changbin’s voice is low, worry creasing his eyebrows. “Just don’t move, hyung.”
“Minho, you listen or face the consequences.” Chan, once again, trying and failing to sound strict.
“Who, Minho? Listen??”
“All of you, stop it!” Minho pushes himself to stand, swaying until Hyunjin frantically grabs him by the shoulder. “I’m telling you, I got lucky. It’s only a graze. I’m speaking full sentences, aren’t I? I can tell whether it’s okay to fucking move. I’ve lost a little bit of blood, not all common sense.”
The boys clamor around him, shouting counterarguments, and Felix shuffles in between them all, trying to get a good look at Minho’s injury.
“Is it bad? It is, isn’t it?” Jeongin’s eyes are wide and fearful, fixed on the steady trickle of blood going down Minho’s leg.
“I bet it is!” Jisung yells over him. “Hyung’s always trying to be some tough guy, all stupid and self-sacrificial. It looks bad!”
“Pff,” Seungmin shuffles forward to get a closer look. “I bet it’s not bad. Felix, you should leave him with a really ugly scar!”
“He already has one on his stomach, Seungmin,” Hyunjin flicks the younger across the forehead. “He’s incapable of being aesthetically displeasing.”
“Everyone shut up!!” Felix’s exclamation comes out shrill, the overlapping voices quickly silencing. “I need to actually look at the injury. Can there be quiet for just a minute, please?”
It works, his assertive request, because apart from the sound of Jisung clamping a hand over his own mouth, it’s now quiet. Felix makes Minho sit down again.
“Changbin,” Chan whispers, “do some rounds to make sure all the guys are actually out. We’ll drop them over the territory line on our way out.”
Changbin nods curtly, Jeongin standing to follow him as he leaves the group. Felix turns back to Minho, finally pulling up his undershirt.
He inhales sharply. Minho was… right, in a way. It’s not a terrible wound, at least not by all means. It’s decently shallow; if Felix didn’t have the ability to heal it right here, it would’ve only needed stitches and a couple weeks’ recovery time.
The location is the trickier part. The cut is almost a foot long, curving around the outside of Minho’s torso and tilting towards his pelvic line. An inconvenient spot, especially if taking into account irritation he might get from gear.
He’d have to fully heal it here.
“Okay, everyone back up.” Felix swallows. He hasn’t healed an injury like this in a while. The pain from healing Jeongin’s shoulder is gone, so he must be fine, right?
This is your only job, Felix.
A hand comes down over his shoulder. “You sure you wanna do it now, Lix?” Chan’s voice is warm. “Will you be able to, all in one sitting?”
Felix frowns. For some reason, it almost sounds like Chan is doubting his abilities. “Yeah? I’ll be just fine, hyung! This is nothing too unusual.”
Minho raises an eyebrow, and the rest of the boys stay silent as Felix finally places his hand over the older’s wound.
The blood is slick under his palms, and Felix can feel the energy of it flowing just another layer below. He imagines the skin smoothing itself over, lets the warmth bind the skin under his fingers. Closes his eyes, lets that same warmth coat his entire body. And, once he’s got a hold of the energy, pushes it out through his palms, presses it into the wound to replace what has been lost.
He opens his eyes, and the only sign of injury is the lingering residue of blood.
Chan’s eyes are wide, Jisung’s mouth dropped open in shock. Hyunjin scratches the top of his head, and Seungmin scrambles in his pocket for his notebook.
“Lix that… that was kinda crazy,” Jisung bends over, inspecting where Minho’s cut had been. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do something like that so quickly. And… cleanly, too. Have you been practicing?”
Felix doesn’t say anything.
“Damn,” Minho props himself up by the shoulders, staring down at his strip of exposed skin. “Why did you ever not want to bring him along, Chan?”
Chan turns a dusty shade of pink, staring down sheepishly at them all. He turns to Felix. “You- are you tired? That- that was probably draining. But it was great, yeah.”
Jisung groans, raking a hand over his face. “If you two are gonna be weird, I’m out. C’mon.” He grabs Hyunjin by the arm, dragging the taller boy away. Seungmin teeters off close behind them. Chan frowns as they leave.
“Alright.” The leader squints down at the mess of blood by his feet. “Let’s get this cleaned up. We’ll have half of us drop off the raiders, and half of us head home to get dinner ready. How does that sound?”
“Great,” Minho hoists himself to his feet, Chan reaching over to steady him in alarm before he remembers that Minho isn’t actively bleeding anymore. “I’ll get on that. All this drama has made me hungry.”
Minho starts making his way back to the cart, and Chan looks back down at Felix. “You coming, Lix?”
Felix smiles up at Chan. Something feels so very wrong. “I think I’ll head back with Minho. I’m hungry, too.”
Chan laughs, bringing a hand down to ruffle Felix’s hair. “Alright, then. Bin, Seung, Hyunjin and I will drop off the raiders. See you at home?”
Felix doesn’t feel like getting up quite yet, so he just nods and gives Chan a thumbs up. “See you at home, hyung!”
Chan smiles, and then he’s walking away. Felix can see where Minho’s waving him over to the cart, Jisung and Jeongin already sitting ready to go. They’re no doubt wondering why he hasn’t come over yet.
Lest he blow his entire cover after putting in all this effort, Felix pulls his body up to his hands and knees. He feels it, then. How the something wrong was about to go very, very bad.
One hand on his knee. Then, an inhale, and Felix stands.
The skin of his abdomen tears.
He almost screams, then, the feeling so sudden and foreign that he keels over, shoving his face into his elbow in guise of a sneeze at the last minute.
This isn’t very convincing. He knows this, and he knows it well.
Something snaps. Far away, in the depth of his mind, Felix feels it shattering. The glass goes everywhere, and he knows he doesn’t have time to clean it up.
So, he does what he knows is the only option.
Felix straightens himself, albeit slowly. Sweeps the shards under the rug. Takes one step, and then another, ignoring the wet slime of blood beginning to coat the inside of his armor. He’s so glad he’s wearing black.
Felix walks all the way over to the cart, where Minho’s busy pondering recipes and Jeongin and Jisung are playing tic-tac-toe with an old piece of coal. He walks all the way over, and settles himself down in the corner of the cart.
Minho took this same injury easily, no screaming and crying. And Felix only has to take it until it disappears, which it probably will in a few hours. Essentially, he’s handling a smaller burden with a much smaller risk.
And isn’t that what he owes to the boys? Isn’t that his only purpose?
—----------------------------------
Somehow, the ride goes off without a hitch. Felix doesn’t speak much, but he’s usually quiet after healing. Seungmin calls it his “recollection time”, and according to the boy’s extensive research, it’s common for Sangenors to take rest and have a period of time to regather lost energy.
Felix thinks that as of now, he’s actively losing energy, but it’s a good cover nonetheless. Once, in a bout of overexplanation, Seungmin had even told Chan that overworked Sangenors used to be riddled with headaches and fatigue. This, of course, had prompted both Chan and Minho to be even more on Felix’s case about taking care of himself.
Felix wonders how Chan would feel about the fact that he’s actively bleeding through a gash in his side. How would he feel, if he knew that Felix is jeopardizing the kingdom’s primary source of medical aid?
Temporary, it’s all temporary. Pain always clears way for better things, his mother had told him.
When they finally arrive, Felix is the first to rush inside. He can hear Jisung shouting after him, but it’s far from his biggest concern. Why did Chan have to inherit such a big fucking mansion? It is a castle, whether he admits it or not. And why did Felix decide his room would be on the third floor?
Halfway up the last flight, he starts to cry. And he knows, he can feel that this isn’t going to be a short bout of tears. He’s going to ugly cry, full blown sobbing that no one but Chan has seen. And that was when his mother died.
“Felix?” Minho’s voice echoes up from several floors down, oblivious. “Where are you off to? I’m making dinner.”
Felix doesn’t bother with a reply. He’s close, so close to his room. He thinks he can’t breathe. He wonders if the injury is really in his ribs, or if it’s festering in his throat. He wonders if he’s beginning to rot from the inside.
Felix flies into his room, and then the door is closed, locked, deadbolted. He falls to his knees; he falls on his side, curls up like a fetus taken from the womb too soon.
It’s then, he senses it for the first time. Not the smell of the decay, but the effects of it. The blood and agitation, a painful ringing to the ears. A body, shaking after it vomits, the cloying stench of funeral flowers. And it’s so much, all at once, flooding his nasal cavity and filling his mouth with the sour taste of acid.
He blacks out.
—------------------------------------------------------
“Come here, aegi.” His mother gestures from across the bedroom. “Have I shown you these pictures?”
Felix skips towards her. His eyes are still starbright, his palms are still soft. “Which ones, eomma?”
She holds them out over her lap, prints of black and white. Drawings; recognizable people.
“Look, here.” She points at the first picture. Three women: his mother, and-
“My sisters.” Eomma smiles, and Felix does too. “They helped me, aegi. You know what happens when you work alone?”
The boy’s eyebrows crease. “What happens?”
“Will you promise me first, Felix? To let them help you?”
A distortion. His mother’s voice doesn’t sound right. “What?”
“Do you promise? Felix?”
—----------------------------------
“Felix??”
Felix startles awake, hardwood instantly digging grooves into his back. There’s a rapid knocking at his door.
“Yongbok-ah, are you asleep?” Another knock, the sound of shuffling. “The others have arrived. Come down for food.”
Felix clears his throat. His entire mouth is dry. “Minho-hyung?”
Movement outside the door stills. “Mm?”
Felix coughs. He stares at the ceiling. “I’m so sleepy, hyung. I wanna stay up here, if that’s alright.”
A pause.
Then, “yah, when will you have food? It’s hot and Bin’s already eating it all. Just come down now, Yongbok-ah.”
Felix doesn’t say anything. He’s really not hungry.
Minho huffs outside the door. Then, “Is something wrong? Why did you rush upstairs earlier?”
And there, that’s when Felix hears it. Creeping into the corners of Minho’s voice, the worry. He contemplates. An easy choice, if even a decision at all.
“I’m just tired, hyung. I’ll come down later?”
Felix can feel it, Minho’s contemplation. A second, then two.
Then,
“Alright.” His footsteps fade away.
Felix lays on the floor a few minutes longer. Tries to recollect himself, and fails miserably. He can feel the dried tear tracks on his face. The dregs at the bottom of a cup, the residue after torrential rain. He didn’t even get to ugly cry like he wanted.
Felix pulls himself to sit up, and instantly cries out.
And then there’s… that.
The sun is close to setting, shading his room in a dreary sort of half-light. Felix grapples around for the banister of his bed, gripping it in his palm.
One, two-
He hoists himself to his feet in one swift motion, and immediately has to shove his sleeve in his mouth to keep himself from shouting.
How the hell had Minho kept so quiet?
Felix limps his way over to the bathroom, slowly but surely. He knows he’s already spent far too long wallowing, that he needs to treat the injury as soon as possible. He feels around the wall for the curtain, fumbling the fabric in his fingers. A pull, then another, and-
Felix’s jaw falls open.
He can see his own reflection now, and it’s an alarming sight. His hair, a greasy mess, tendrils coming down to shield his freckles. There are bruises under his eyes, a deep purple he hasn’t even seen on Chan. He can’t even excuse it, because Chan is already supposed to be paler than him, and now Felix is the one who looks like he’s been pulled from the grave.
It almost makes him tear up again.
Then, the bigger issue. The black leather of his armor, stained with an even darker patch that spreads across his entire torso. Felix peeks around the corner, and- yep, there’s a circle of dried blood where he was lying. He doesn’t know how he missed it, but for now, he thanks the gods that his floors are quartz instead of hardwood.
Okay.
The leather is a pain to peel off, practically glued to his skin in a concoction of sweat and grime. Felix bites his lip, counting the heartbeats he can feel in his throat. It hurts so much less now, nothing close to the excruciating pain that had sent him into a fit of panic. It’s bearable, really, and Felix wonders why he was ever so dramatic at all.
Then he has everything stripped off, and-
It’s really not that bad.
It’s an identical wound to what Felix saw on Minho, only his has already begun to heal. The edges are closing inwards, skin crinkling and trying to reach its way over the gash. It isn’t even bleeding anymore, though Felix can still see the crimson of wet flesh if he looks close enough. It’s… a little bad, but it doesn’t need stitches and it’s not showing signs of infection. Best case scenario, really.
He ends up having saline solution in his cabinet, even antiseptic. Felix wets a paper towel, gently wipes over the wound. It stings, and his eyes well with tears before he can help himself.
Don’t be a fucking baby, Felix.
He swallows. Grips the table harder. Makes a decision, right then and there.
(Felix is still a little boy when Chan’s father takes his company to the fight. It’s the one his mother didn’t return from, but it was before then that he had made his promise to her.)
He wraps gauze tight around his torso. Tight, tighter, not tight enough.
Because if he will not feel regret, he will feel pain.
—---------------------------------------------
Something Felix hasn’t admitted to the boys, besides that his healing has a steadily approaching limit.
He thinks he’s incapable of loving only partially. Thinks he lets himself go too far, and then doesn’t know how to reel it all back in. Thinks, no, knows, that what he really needs to reel back is himself. Needs to stop his incessant, infringing attachment to every single person that treats him with the slightest bit of decency. He throws himself in completely, fully, to such an extent that there’s nothing stopping him from spinning down towards earth in a hurtling asteroid of selfish intent. A spinning, orbiting ball of light; the brightest thing. A spectacle, Chan had said, the first time he watched Felix heal. The first time Felix placed hands on an injured form and left it close to brand-new. The first time he carved out a shard of his glass heart, and tried to create a hollow space big enough for seven boys.
It’s not good enough and it never will be, but it’s the only thing Felix has to keep for himself: loving them with all he has. And when all he has to give back is his healing, it’s clear there’s no other way fate intended on him continuing.
And something beautiful will come of his destruction, if nature wills it.