Other Earth
Member: Jongdae (EXO)
Prompt: "We need to work on your small talk. Asking new people you meet how they would like to die is kinda creepy."
AU: Parallel Universe
Rating: PG-13
WC: 1,294
↳ part of my AU drabble game
At precisely 20:02 on a Tuesday evening, Kim Jongdae appeared from nowhere to land in a dilapidated alley, pressed between a Macy’s department store on one side and the graffitied Winchester building on the other. Of which, the latter structure happened to contain New Stratford location of your office.
Jongdae was lucky, in that you were the only one in the alleyway at that particular time. Nearly everyone who worked in the Circle left before 18:00, overly concerned by trains, traffic and the time of commute. You alone were trudging between the buildings, paying little attention to your surroundings when he appeared from thin air.
It is hard to say what, exactly, happened. One second, you were adjusting your air pods with one hand, holding a jacket overhead to block out the rain with the other, not looking at all – and then, Jongdae was there.
He slammed into your body, making you stumble.
“Run!” he blurted, staring at you wide-eyed. The rims of his were red; a stark, bloodied color. His knuckles were white, gripping what appeared to be a gun in his hand. It was like no gun you had ever seen, though. “Run – run!” he gasped, breathing hard. “Why aren’t you running?”
Glancing over your shoulder, you saw no one. “I’m sorry.” You returned to him. “Are you running from something and telling me to run, too? Or, are you the thing I should be running from?”
Petering out, Jongdae’s run slowed to a halt in several, quick strides. He stopped right before you, glancing up at the sky. Freezing in place, he stared. “The sky,” he muttered, blinking abruptly. “It… isn’t orange anymore.”
“I – yeah.” You, of course, were not looking at the sky. You were looking at him, the gun that he held and wondering if you were about to die in an ally. “Is it usually orange to you? Are you colorblind, or something?”
Maybe you were witnessing a miracle. Y/N Y/L/N, of questionable age, witnessed the medical marvel of returned sight at 20:02, Tuesday evening in the fair month of – fuck, was it May already?
Jongdae shook his head, as though to dislodge water from his ears. “I,” he exhaled, bewildered. Twisting around, he stared up the ally, then down it. When he returned to you, he slowly lowered his weapon. “Where am I?”
Shit. This guy was probably drunk, although – you leaned in and sniffed. He did not smell like alcohol. “Uh,” you blinked, hastily retreating. “In an ally outside of Macy’s? It’s over there,” you pointed. “Are you looking for the Nike store? Tourists usually are.”
Jongdae stared at you as though you had spoken indecipherable gibberish and, in a way, you had. “Nike?” He blinked. “As in, the goddess? She has a marketplace?”
This was when you realized he was not from your world. You meant that in the loosest way possible, since you did not yet suspect the truth of the matter. Jongdae, with his strange manner of speaking, odd gun and orange sky, was from another world entirely.
Well. He was from your world, but a different version of it. A parallel universe, existing side by side with your own.
At that time though, you did not imagine any of that. All you knew was that this seemingly crazy man had accosted you in an ally, spoke of ancient goddesses like fact and thought the sky was orange. The one explanation was that he was insane and yet, you saw sanity in his gaze. It is hard to explain. You, yourself, were having trouble deciphering.
“I’m late,” he exhaled, glaning around. “The Empire. They need to know – they must know. There’s been a breakthrough, at the Academy and…” He shook his head. “There isn’t time. Where is your closest transport?”
Awkwardly, you pointed him in the direction of New Stratford Train Station. When he kept on blabbering though, you led him a block in the right direction, but this was when Jongdae seemed to realize the horrible truth of the matter.
On the corner of Clark and Monroe, he turned in a slow, stumbled circle. His gaze moved slowly from the tiered buildings to yours. “Am I… still on Earth?”
Multiple responses ran through your mind to this question, most of them impertinent. Something to his gaze, his tone, though, made you stop. He truly seemed distressed, which made you want to help. Damn your weak spot for lost causes.
“Yes,” you said to him gently, unsure what response he expected. “We’re on Earth.”
Briefly, Jongdae’s grip on his gun tightened. Then, he relaxed and – reluctantly – slid this into his pocket. “Not my Earth, though,” he muttered, almost to himself.
He seemed stunned by this prospect, a bit woozy and perhaps that is why you took pity on him. “Hey,” you said, waiting until he looked your way. “Would you… do you need help?”
Jongdae looked up, sharp. “You would willfully help a stranger?”
There was a strange undercurrent to his words; one you did not yet understand. Still, you nodded. “I mean, I live by the golden rule, or whatever.”
Jongdae’s brow furrowed, tilting his head to one side. “Is that rule of trial by combat, or fire?”
Awkwardly, you choked on the breath you inhaled. “What?”
“If one of us breaks the oath,” Jongdae explained, as one might to a toddler. “Is the golden rule here to kill the other by combat, or fire?”
Staring, you began to wonder if you had entered the pages of a strange, feudal science-fiction novel. “I – neither,” you insisted, incredulous. “God, we need to work on your small talk. Asking those you just met how they would like to die is kind of creepy.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “If there is no blood consequence to your oath, then – how do you ensure it is kept?”
His question left you baffled. “I,” you paused. “I don’t know. We just kind of trust each other, I guess.”
Jongdae stared. An errant breeze from the lake ruffled his hair and you realized then that he was quite attractive, when he was not threatening you with a gun in the middle of an ally.
“Trust.” Jongdae said the word as most would say moist – a phrase generally agreed upon by society to be dubious, at best. Arching a brow, he added, “A risky business, that.”
“Well.” Oddly emboldened, you took a step closer. “Do you have any choice?”
His brows ticked higher. “It would seem not,” Jongdae exhaled. “I suppose that, in return for your help –”
“Y/N.”
“In return for your help, Y/N – of other Earth.” A humorous glint entered his gaze. “I, Jongdae, of the Eighteenth Dynasty of the name, born in the Twentieth Century after the defeat of the Pretender, Christ –”
“Wait, what?”
“–pledge to owe you one favor.”
You fell silent, staring at him. “A favor?”
Solemnly, Jongdae nodded. His jawline was sharp, like his gaze and you found you could not look away. For a moment, the voices of reason ran through your mind. You did not know him. He seemed fucking insane. He spoke of alternate worlds, people and theories which defied common sense – and yet.
Your entire life had been spent in classrooms, in universities, in office spaces and conference rooms. All your life, you had wondered what if there was more – and here, at last, was more.
Determinedly, you tilted your chin upwards. “Alright,” you exhaled, outstretching your hand.
Blinking in surprise, Jongdae grasped your hand in his.
The heat which traveled your spine made you gasp, but you did not pull away.
Jongdae seemed startled as well but still, he straightened to look you in the eyes. “Then,” he said, shifting his weight. “Let’s get started.”
AU drabble game
