as the world caves in (m); nine
pairing; hongjoong x reader, mingi x reader, ? x reader
word count; 4.8k
genre/warnings; fantasy-ish, apocalyptic au, angst, fluff, blood(a lot), weapons, fighting, injuries, zombies, knife, blood, miscommunication, bullying
summary; a mysterious virus has taken over the world, resulting in the undead and the new ‘eden race’ of humans. desperately trying to find your brother jongho with your friends, you stumble across another group in an abandoned hospital tent. strangely, they’re looking for him as well.
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Chapter 9:
"I thought you might like to stay in your brother's old room," Yeosang says, pushing you along the dirt path. "It's smaller than all of ours but a lot of his belongings are still in there. He left with little. None of us had the heart to go and look through his things. Pretty sure there's a thick layer of dust over everything."
"Sounds good to me," you say, hands wrapped around your body, just above the bandage. You're still a bit weary about Yeosang and the others. There's little that you know about any of them, but in order to gain their trust you have to play by their rules just a little. Enough for them to see that you're not going to run away. The suspicion hasn't subsided at all, especially with the way they tip toe around issues and questions that any of you bring up. You told Hongjoong you trust Yeosang more than him, but that was a blatant lie. Despite all of his faults, he’s your best friend. And nothing is going to change that.
"Is everything okay?"
You furrow your brows at his question, angling your head to look at him. He has the same blank stare on his face, lip twitching slightly when his eyes meet yours. Yeosang has always acted indifferent to anything having to do with you. Especially feelings. It bothers you to the point where you can't quite hold in your annoyance.
"You don't have to pretend to care about me Yeosang,” you say, looking away from him. “You guys want information about my brother and we do too. There’s no reason to try and feign a whole lie about how you like us or anything like that. We’re all adults here, let’s stop playing around.”
“Oh?” You don’t see his face, but you know he’s raising his brows. “I didn’t expect a whole tirade about how much you hate us.”
“I didn’t even say that.”
“Yea, but like you said, we’re adults. I can read between the lines,” Yeosang rolls you along the path, a bit more to go to the house. “We don’t hate you, y/n. There’s just some things you don’t share with strangers. You haven’t even seen Jongho in years, he could’ve changed in that time away. The same Jongho that you knew is completely different from the one we did. Disasters like this change people. And by the way, I’m not pretending to care. Perhaps in that little mind of yours, you’d ought to realize that I actually do.”
Neither of you say much more, Yeosang lifting you up the steps and into the farmhouse. It’s eerily quiet inside, a disassembled gun sitting on the kitchen table. He places you next to it, explaining that he’d be back once he gets your wheelchair. You adjust yourself in the chair, eyes on the gun. The only one that your crew has ever had was the one that Woo carries; he rarely uses it, and there’s only a few rounds left before you run out. So seeing their weapons in much better care compared to Wooyoung fascinates you. Yunho’s father must have stockpiled tons of artillery and ammunition to have weapons this… advanced, for lack of a better word. They’re almost military style compared to the others you’ve seen.
“Time away from daddy?”
You turn around, seeing Seonghwa enter the room. He steps around you, grabbing a gun off the table. He tucks it into his side, humming softly. Seonghwa is wearing the same outfit as before, without all of the embellishments that protected him from the Sick. “Or did he decide to kick you out?”
“Not my dad, asshole,” you retort, rolling your eyes. He scoffs.
“Better go and tell him that.”
“No need to act like a dirtbag, Hwa,” Another person enters the room, this time Mingi. He gives you a tight smile. “Sorry about that. We aren’t too used to anyone else sleeping around here. Although you did do that for a while…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his head. He’s in a pair of loose shorts and a rather tight shirt clinging to his body. It leaves nothing to the imagination, your eyes moving away from him. “But you get it.” He opens the fridge, grabbing a glass bottle. He passes one to you, and you thank him silently.
“There are rules that you need to know before you decide to stay in our house,” Seonghwa starts, sitting on the opposite end of the table. “First–”
“–is to let her sleep,” Yeosang enters the room, frowning. “We said we’d discuss everything tomorrow. One night of sleep is all Yunho asked for.”
Seonghwa sighs, flicking a piece of dust off his pants. Mingi downs his water, the room engulfed in silence. The uncomfortable air surrounds the four of you, much of it from the man across from you, eyes on yours as he glares. You knew that Seonghwa didn’t like you much, but the pure distaste isn’t what you expected. Actually, you assumed that Mingi or Yeosang would be that archetype. Mingi somehow flipped a switch, and Yeosang is sort of neutral.
“I don’t like you here,” Seonghwa says simply, as Yeosang wraps his arms around your legs and torso, lifting you with ease. “The quicker you leave the better.”
“Fuck off, Hwa,” Mingi hisses, grabbing your wheelchair. “Go have a pissy fit somewhere else.”
“Watch your tone,” he says simply. Mingi grips the chair tightly, but doesn’t respond.
Yeosang sighs, looking down at you. “An unusual Friday night in this house,” he murmurs, taking you up the stairs.
You look at Seonghwa just as you disappear around the corner, his eyes staring into yours. You could tell he was furious, jaw clenched. Yeosang takes his time making his way up the stairs, making sure not to go too fast or hold your waist too tightly. He turns into the room, Mingi close behind the both of you. He places you on the edge of the bed, taking a step back. Your eyes roam around, taking in everything. Mingi puts the wheelchair next to your side, clearing his throat.
“It’s not much, and Jongho didn’t do that much with it either, but I think it’ll be enough for you to stay in for a while,” Yeosang says, resting against the door frame. “We’ll leave you to it.” He leaves first, Mingi lingering around the door. Before he steps out, you call out to him. He spins on his heel.
“Hm?”
“It's about my brother. you said you two were close,” you say, fingers digging into the sheets. It’s odd that the room still has his familiar scent around, a quiet confirmation that he did spend his time in here. “Was he okay? I mean, as much as he could be?”
“Honest answer?” Mingi sighs. “Not really. I didn’t know at the time, but he was always stuck in his head. He joked around and spoke with us, but he kept to himself. I thought it was just because he might’ve been introverted, but Yeosang is and he doesn’t act that way. That closed off. We couldn’t figure out why he was that way, but I didn’t say much because I didn’t want to upset him. But he was a good guy. You would’ve been proud of him.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “Why are you speaking about him in past tense? He isn’t dead, Mingi.”
His eyes widened at that, shaking his head quickly. “Ah, no! I know he’s not. Just using it in reference to him being here, nothing more.” You don’t trust any of them, but you feel like Mingi wouldn’t lie to you. The switch in the past week from the anger that he used to you, to now, the comfort is neck-breaking. “I know you have no reason to believe us, but I’m telling the truth. He’s not dead, y/n. If you can’t trust anything else I say, at least attempt to trust that. Jongho wouldn’t die that easily, especially when he was desperately trying to look for his sister.” Mingi goes to the top drawer of the dresser in front of you, taking out an envelope. “The others don’t come in here often, but I do. And I found this the other day. Finally have the chance to give it to you.” He passes you the papers. “I’ll leave you alone, goodnight y/n.”
"What is it?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It's better to read it yourself."
“Oh," you grip the paper. "Goodnight, Mingi.”
He nods, a small smile decorating his lips. He leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You grip the paper between your fingers. The envelope is already ripped open, so you peek inside. You flick on the side lamp, lying back on the bed to see the paper clearly.
-
Mingi rests his head on his arm, throwing a ball into the air as he hums to himself. The night feels quieter than usual, Yunho’s music player silent. Usually there’s a bit of talking back and forth through the hallways, laughter just outside his door. But there’s nothing tonight. Not even the incessant crickets that scream outside his window make a sound. He rolls onto his side, sighing softly. Yunho would kick him out for that letter he gave you, but you’re in Jongho’s room. They’ve already scavenged through it before you slept in there, in case there was a hint of their past between letters. Mingi hid it in his pockets from the others, leaving it for you to find. He’s ashamed of what he was, of what he was forced into. He doesn’t feel that it’s right to hide a letter clearly addressed to you, Jongho’s sister. They might kick him out over this if you mention that he gave it to you. But that was a risk he was willing to take.
To absolve him of his sins, of his faults? Maybe.
He just knows that if he had the chance to talk to one of his family members again, to see their words written on an old piece of paper, he’d jump at it. Who are they to prevent you from doing that?
-
You sit straight up on your bed, unable to get a wink of sleep the night before. Your lids are heavy as you stare out at the barn. Wondering how exactly you’re going to warn the others of what Jongho wrote to you.
If you ever come across this paper in your hands y/n, if you ever meet any of them, run.
Your chest tightens, paper tucked into your pocket.
Run as far and fast as you can away from them.
Why the hell did Mingi give you that? Did he read it? No, he had to have read it. That’s why it was ripped open. It’s likely that all of them have read it. But why would they keep it in here, why would Mingi hand deliver the note that incriminates him? Incriminate all of them? Jongho didn’t get into detail about their past, but he said that he found out something that made him want to run. What exactly, you have no idea. It couldn’t be anything related to eating people - all of the food you’ve been given here has been fruits and vegetables. And you’re sure Jongho would’ve figured out something like that from the beginning. No one sticks around for five years without having a clue about it.
But what are they hiding?
You want to run, you do. You trust everything your brother could ever say to you. And curiosity has killed the cat more often than not. But… what did he find out? What does he know that you don’t?
You have to speak to the others about it. Sooner rather than later. No matter how much thinking about Hongjoong leaves a bad taste in your mouth, at the end of the day he’s your family. You can push aside your differences for a moment to figure out what’s going on at this farm. San and Wooyoung move immediately on things like this. They’d probably figure out a plan much quicker than you ever could.
A soft knock pulls you out of your thoughts. You tell them to come in. Yunho stands on the opposite side, holding open the door with his hand. He’s in working clothes, probably on his way out to the fields for the morning. It’s covered in stains and pebbles, a bit of it falling to the floor as he stands there. You wrinkle your nose, but don’t say a word. It’s best not to upset him, especially with the explicit warnings you were given.
“Had a good rest?” He asks, and you frown.
“Not exactly. But I’ll get used to it eventually. Beds are something to get used to when you’ve been sleeping on hardwood floors or dirt for years. I think my back might be out of alignment,” you rub it for exaggeration, and he chuckles.
“Hopefully you get used to it soon since you’ll be here for a while. Seonghwa made breakfast a few hours ago. It’s a bit cold now though, you might not want it.”
“Yunho,” you deadpan. “Have you forgotten that we’ve been on the road for years? I can handle a bit of lukewarm food. Thank you.”
He helps you out of the room, ignoring your protests when he lifts you from your bed and carries you to the bathroom. He waits outside patiently, then carries you down the stairs. You’re sure he hasn’t suspected a thing from you. He places you at the table as you thank him. Yeosang passes you a plate.
"In a better mood today?" You ask.
"In comparison to what?"
"Every other day." You nonchalantly glance around the room. Mingi isn't anywhere to be found, and you don't hear his boisterous voice through the hallways. “Where’s everyone else?”
“I’m eating, Seonghwa is out at the farmhouse speaking with your friends. And Mingi should be-”
“Right here!” The door swings open, violently. In comes said man, holding a large basket of fruits and veggies. He drops it on the floor, a loud boom echoing around the area. Yeosang sighs but doesn’t comment, Yunho glaring at him. “What?”
“Do you really have to be this loud on a Friday morning? It’s barely past dawn,” Yeosang complains. Yunho leaves the three of you alone, walking out the front door and shutting it behind him. Lightly. Knowing what you know, you feel uncomfortable being alone with any of them, but at least there’s more than one. You’d rather have someone from your group with you, but you’ll take what you can get. You adjust yourself in your chair, looking down at the food.
“Hey Yeosang,” you say, taking a bite of your food. “How do you know it’s Friday? I can’t even tell anymore.”
“He’s been tracking it since the beginning,” Mingi says, untying his shoes. “Told us that if we have nothing, at least we know what day it is.” he chuckles. “Not sure why we need to know that. I doubt anyone is going to be making calendars anytime soon.”
“Makes sense. We’ve lost pretty much anything, time is all that we can count,” you shrug, taking another bite. “By the way, Mingi, I don’t think I need that wheelchair anymore. How about you convince Yunho to pardon me and let me go?”
He snickers, “If you can walk from the table to the door without falling, then I’d approve of you walking on those two legs of yours again right away.”
“He doesn’t have the authority,” Yeosang adds from his spot, standing. “Mingi’s best friends with him, but he’s also the last to make decisions around here. Unless the three of us are incapacitated,” he glances at you, putting his plate in the sink. “And you’re not ready yet. There’s no rush, you can split those stitches open and have to start all over. Sure you don’t want that, yeah?”
“Right,” you murmur, holding a chopstick between your teeth. “Don’t wanna stay here longer than I have to.”
“You didn’t, don’t you remember?” Yeosang raises his brow, turning from scrubbing the dish to glance at you. “You told me that you wanted to hang out around here. And that means uninterrupted supervision by the big man himself. And he’s fond of you too much to see you hurt. So expect to be stuck in that wheelchair much longer than necessary, Tiger.” Sarcasm drips from his voice as he mentions your nickname.
“You never told us why Tiger,” Mingi mentions, throwing his shoes next to the door. He sits next to you, grabbing his plate of breakfast and swallowing it down immediately. His skin is covered in dirt and oils as you grimace, glancing at the dirt touching the table. “What?” he says, mouth full of food.
“Ever heard of washing your hands before eating?” You frown. He widens his eyes, quickly going over to the sink. Yeosang slides out of the way just in time, fingers pinching his nostrils when he gets a whiff of Mingi. “You alright?” you grin, wiggling your brows.
“Take a shower, now,” Yeosang kicks Mingi’s ass - literally, his foot planted in the middle of it - ushering him out of the room. “Being in the apocalypse doesn’t mean that we can go around smelling like shit. You didn’t smell that?” He turns to you, and you only laugh, taking another bite.
Yeosang leaves the kitchen soon after that. You watch him disappear around the corner, hearing a door close. You debate on walking around and peeking through cabinets, but the ache in your side stops you right as you stand. So you slump back into your chair, pushing the foot around your plate. What did Jongho see? It either took him five years to figure it out, or he stayed until he realized that he couldn’t take it anymore. But that’s not like him. It isn’t, and yet here you sit - probably in the same spot he once was. Trying desperately to figure out what he found out and quicker. Enough time for you to relay it back to your family and then get out of here.
“Still here?” You hear stomping from the stairs. It can only be one person, Mingi appearing from around the corner. He smiles at you, sitting back in his spot across from you. And then there’s Mingi. Staring at you, grinning. As if he didn’t give you a letter confessing that his group wasn’t safe.
Why did he give it to you?
“Mingi-”
“It’s a bit cold in here, isn’t it?” he asks, shivering slightly. “Want to go outside? I’m pretty much done with my food.” He doesn’t wait for you to say another word, grabbing the back of your chair. You pick up on what he’s trying to do, sliding into the wheelchair. He opens the front door, rolling you over the threshold. He doesn’t bother to take you out of the chair, lifting it with ease as he walks down the steps, placing you back on the ground. You’d stare in awe if you didn’t catch a glimpse of how tense he is, knuckles white as he grips the back of your chair. The two of you walk far away from the house, to the fields. You tense up, fingers digging into your jeans. You didn’t bring a weapon with you. He could do anything to you, in the middle of a field like this.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he starts, moving from behind you. He sits on the bale of hay in front of you, rolling his neck. “If I was going to do that, I would’ve done it already.”
“What do you want from me?” you ask, tone sharp. “Why did you bring me out here?”
“I want to know what you think.”
“Of the letter? I think I should be getting back to the farmhouse and taking my family with me. And never come back. That’s what I think,” you say, his expression dropping.
“So you will believe his words over mine?” he asks, and you scoff. Loudly.
“Are you trying to convince me not to trust my brother? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”
“I didn’t have to give you that letter, you know. I could have kept it to myself. You’d never know what your brother thought of us.” Despite his harsh words, he only seems exhausted. Hand pulling on his hair, expression somber. “I wanted to explain some things before you assume the worst of us. Because we are not what he thought. He just found some things from our past that were… not the greatest.”
You stare at Mingi, fear creeping into you. His cryptic words only seem to make it worse. The whistle of the wind interrupts the two of you for a brief moment. All you can think of while staring at Mingi is his straightforward words about him.
Stay away from Mingi. Just because he’s good on the outside doesn’t make him that way on the inside.
“I think I should go,” you say, swallowing deeply. “See you?”
“You expect me to believe that you’ll just go back to the farmhouse and pretend nothing is going on?”
“Fuck no,” you snicker. “I expect you to know that I’ll be going back, telling the others about this gift you’ve given me, and leave. No turning back, no matter how close you were with Jongho. He doesn’t just… up and leave people like that. He trusted you enough to stay here that long. That means that you’ve hidden something unthinkable for him to leave. Just like that. I don’t trust you, Mingi. I don’t trust any of you. I… I was starting to, I have to admit,” you say after a moment. “But that was a foolish thing to do. I’ve realized that now. So just let me go. Please.”
“Can I explain it for just a bit, please?” He holds his hands together. “Please just give me this chance. Jongho didn’t let me, but I want you to understand. Clearly, why he left. And why you shouldn’t. Not yet, at least.”
You stare at him. He was an asshole in the beginning, but he’s changed since you’ve spent more time with him. Softened a lot more than before. So despite the very apparent red flags around him, you let him talk.
“He heard us talking one night when we thought he was awake,” Mingi starts, rubbing his pants. “It wasn’t anything too important, but it just slipped out around him.”
“Stop walking around the truth, Mingi. Just say it.”
“He heard us talking about our former positions in the government.”
Your heart drops. Without another word, you grip the wheels on your wheelchair, turning with ease.
“y/n wait!” You hear him stand. Knowing that you wouldn’t get far with rolling, you stand up. Your side immediately hurts as you walk swiftly to the barn. It’s just after sunrise, but you know the others are awake. It’s a habit to be up at daybreak. Ignoring Mingi’s yelling, you make your way up the path. A hand grips your wrist. You pull back, losing your balance and falling to the ground.
“Shit!” you cry out, landing on your barely healed wound. Mingi crouches down next to you, profuse apologies falling from his lips. You put your hand up, hearing the door swinging open behind you.
“What the fuck is going on - y/n?” Wooyoung’s familiar voice appears from behind you. You turn, his eyes wide as he flicks between the both of you. He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Do I kill him?”
“No, no! It’s my fault I fell. We need to leave now,” you say as he jogs over, helping you to your feet. “Not tonight. Now. Are the others up?” You ask, and he nods quickly, lifting you with ease. Mingi stands there, not saying a word as Wooyoung carries you into the farmhouse, shutting the door behind him.
Hongjoong and San stand in the kitchen, speaking to one another. Their eyes flick to the both of you, smiles slipping. Wooyoung lightly places you on a chair, running up the steps without another word. San’s expression tightens as he follows him, not saying a word to you. It’s funny how all of you know what you’re thinking with just a look. Hongjoong quickly makes his way over to you, giving you a bit of space. You dig into your back pocket, pulling out the letter and handing it to him.
“What’s this?”
“Just read it, that’s better than explaining,” you say, slowly standing. His brows furrow but you wave him off. “Fine, I’m fine. I’ll pack up our things while you read.” You slide the weapons on the table into the duffle, leaving a few out.
“What did he find out?” Hongjoong says, fingers gripping the letter tightly. “Did you find out?”
“Mingi said they were part of the government. The fucking gov, Hongjoong!” You hiss, throwing the duffle over your shoulder. “No wonder this farm is equipped the way it is! I couldn’t believe that Yunho’s father made it right before the apocalypse hit, but it all makes sense now. The high tech weapons, the watch tours. The fucking gate wrapping around the property!” Your hands shake, desperate to control yourself. “We made a mistake staying here. Jongho was right to leave.”
“Fuck me,” Hongjoong rubs his face, deep in his thoughts. “Right under our noses, it was right in front of us.” he holds the letter in his hand, thinking. “Are they going to come in here knocking our doors down? They probably have surveillance in here, watching us this whole time. What the fuck were we thinking?” Hongjoong closes his eyes for a moment. “I already know Woo and San are grabbing our things. And we have keys for a few of the cars out there. Yunho said they were full tanks before, so I’m sure they still are. We can leave within the next fifteen. I’ll grab food for the road. y/n,” he turns to you. “I know you hate to be bossed around and we have a lot to speak about, but please don’t leave my sight. Not now.”
“I won’t,” your lips curve slightly. “I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.”
He laughs dryly, jogging into the kitchen.
-
Mingi walks through the door, sighing softly. His eyes flick to the couch, Yeosang reading a book. He barely gives Mingi a glance, until Seonghwa clears his throat.
“Where’s y/n?” He asks, brows furrowed. “Did she want to stay out in the sun?”
“No,” he hesitates. Seonghwa immediately picks up on it, standing up. Yeosang lowers his book, glancing between the both of them. “It’s not that bad-”
“What did you do, Mingi?” Yeosang says simple, frowning. “What the hell did you do?”
He rubs his hands together, jaw tense. Seonghwa doesn’t say a word, running to the back to tell Yunho. Yeosang stands up from the couch, pushing past Mingi and entering the kitchen.
“You just had to tell them? You couldn’t help yourself? Couldn’t wait until they gave us enough information about Jongho? You fucked up, big time Song,” he grabs his guns off the table, tucking it into his pockets. “Do you realize what you’ve done? They’re going to leave, and we aren’t going to get anything from them. Not a word.”
“I thought she would let me explain-”
“Where are they now?” Yunho’s voice interrupts the conversation. He looks freshly showered, hair still dripping. He pushes the strands from his face, eyes on Mingi. “Have they already left the compound?”
“No, they’re still at the farmhouse. Packing up,” he adds, avoiding Yunho’s gaze. “I had to tell her, Yunho.”
“We go there without weapons. We speak to them clearly and precisely so they don’t believe that we’re up to something. We convince them to listen to our words so that they won’t leave. It’s that simple,” Yunho says, flicking his chin at Yeosang. Yeosang narrows his eyes, but he drops his weapons back to the table. “We fix it, and they stay longer.”
“What if they don’t agree?” Seonghwa asks. “You said no weapons, but-”
“There’s three of them, and four of us,” Yunho says. “She’s in no condition to do anything without straining herself. We will lock the three up, and keep her here. Let them go when we have enough information.”
‘We said we won’t do that anymore, Yunho,” Mingi says softly. “After we left, we said we’d never lock up another person again. We promised.”
“We did,” Yunho agrees, buttoning up his shirt. “And we weren’t going to do it again. We wouldn’t have to think of that possibility if you didn’t mess it up for us. In fact,” he thinks for a moment. “Stay here. You’ll interfere too much while we’re talking to them.”
“As much as I’d agree to that,” Yeosang says. “She doesn’t trust any of us, but she’s more lenient with Mingi. Him not being there will only force us to take Plan B.”
Yunho sighs, eyes on Mingi. “Mingi, if you so much as say another word to her, you’ll be locked up with them. Understood?”
“Yunho-”
Yunho’s hand grips his neck, slamming him against the brick fireplace. His grip is tight as he holds Mingi there, eyes furious. “We need this information, Mingi. We need to find Jongho. And if I have to break your legs to keep you from saying shit, I will. Now, do you understand me?”
He gasps, hands gripping Yunho’s one. “I understand.” He lets out. Yunho lets go, watching as Mingi falls to the floor.
“Good. Now let's go and convince our Tiger to stay a little longer.”
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