The hospital bed is empty when Seungbae goes to visit.

There is a second of welling panic in his gut, worry curling in his chest and rising to fill his throat. All he can hear are those words, "I'll get him back, you know," echoing in his mind over and over again. He knows that it is not possible, that Oh Sangwoo is locked in a cell that he will not be leaving anytime soon, but the panic is still there and a shout is forming on his lips, ready to call the nurses over, demand to know what has happened, because Yoon Bum is not in his room.

Then he hears a quiet thump and a soft sound of irritation. He freezes in the doorway, shout catching in his throat. Turning back to the room he sees a deathly pale hand appear from the far side of the bed, clutching at the sheets. A head of dark hair follows and he watches, shocked into silence for a brief second, as Bum struggles to pull himself back into his bed.

"Bum?" he asks, and the man freezes, eyes wide and scared as he stares right back at him, apparently just now realizing that he is not alone. Seungbae hesitates, feeling uncertain and a little awkward. "Did you...fall off the bed? Do you need help?"

Bum looks away, his face flushing red. He shakes his head and immediately grabs another fistful of sheet and continues his struggle. He does not make a sound.

Seungbae moves forward, hovering awkwardly as he tries to figure out if he should offer assistance again or perhaps just help him back into the bed without asking. His hand twitches at his side, but he does not reach out. It seems far too invasive to force the issue, given what Bum must have suffered through already.

While Seungbae is busy debating, Bum manages to pull himself onto the bed. He is sweating slightly from the effort, skin shining in the harsh florescent lights. It makes him look even more sickly. There is another beat of awkward silence as he settles himself more comfortably.

"What can I help you with, officer?" he asks, slightly breathless, not looking at the man still standing by his bedside.

His hands are in his lap, twisting the thin material of his hospital gown around and around. Seungbae stares at his hands and at his thin, fragile wrists. There are ligature marks covering them, bruises and scabs that will likely scar. Sangwoo's words seem to echo through his head once again, and he wonders how Bum feels, knowing that Sangwoo's marks will remain long after his tormentor is gone.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, he simply says, "You can call me Seungbae, if you'd like."

Bum looks up at him at last, his eyes wide and expression one of shock. When the offer is not retracted, a shy smile breaks across his face. He nods and repeats the name like he is tasting it. Seungbae keeps his expression carefully neutral, not quite certain what to make of the way Bum's lips curl around his name or the strange smile on his gaunt face.

"What can I do for you, Seungbae?" he asks again.

"I'm here to ask you a few questions, and to take your statement."

Bum does not respond. Seungbae cannot help but think that he seems more human here, where the horrors are not lurking just beyond each corner (just beyond those stairs) but are instead confined to the past and to the mind. The dark circles beneath his eyes are far more pronounced, but his skin has regained some semblance of a healthy pallor. The sunshine that spills across his face helps, Seungbae thinks.

Bum shifts uncomfortably, and Seungbae's eyes are drawn to the heavy casts encasing his legs. They are a deep green color. He wonders if Bum chose that color, or if the hospital did. It seems to suit him, either way.

He clears his throat and looks back towards Bum's face. The other man is watching him warily, dark eyes intense and a little scared. It makes Seungbae feel like dirt, though he's not entirely sure what he did to inspire such an expression.

"I'm glad to see that they are working to mend your legs," he says, the words awkward and heavy on his tongue, and instantly curses himself at the strange expression that flashes across Bum's face. He seems so uncertain suddenly, looking slowly between Seungbae and the casts. Seungbae isn't sure what he said wrong, but he is feeling more and more out of his league with each passing moment.

Even in Seoul, his experience with hostage situations and his interaction with the victims themselves were few and far between. Somehow, though, he has been the one assigned to this case. He's not sure why they chose him instead of an actual psychiatrist, and hadn't been sure whether to be flattered or annoyed when he had received his assignment, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. After all, he has been entangled in this case for months now, whether he had known it or not. Something feels right about seeing it through to the end.

"Thank you," Bum says at last. "The doctors told me it will take a while before I'm fully recovered, but they're hoping for the best."

Seungbae nods but does not say anything. His face is kept in a carefully neutral mask. He already knows that Bum is downplaying the situation; one of the nurses at the front desk had debriefed him on the other man's status when he had first arrived. It would take countless months – perhaps even years – of intensive physical therapy and more surgeries than could be guessed at before Bum's legs would be anything resembling usable again. Even then, the likelihood that they would ever be fully functional or free of pain was slim.

He wonders if Bum doesn't know that yet. He wonders if he should be the one to tell him or if he should mention something to a nurse as he is leaving. Is it more kind to leave Bum in the darkness in this instance?

His lips part, trembling slightly as he tries and fails to find the words. Bum meets his eyes and smiles, soft and infinitely sad. He looks resigned, and Seungbae realizes that he does know the truth. He shuts his mouth and looks away, suddenly ashamed.

They sit in silence for a long moment while Seungbae tries desperately to figure out how to mend the awkward tension that hangs between them. Or maybe he's just imagining it, considering the fact that Bum seems no more uncertain now than he has before. Perhaps living with a killer for so long had something to do with that. Surely, that would skew one's perception. After all, what was so scary about an awkward police officer after surviving such an ordeal?

The guilt roars to life, again. It seems to rest heavy upon his shoulders, weighing him down. The silence is stifling.

"You, uh, said that you had some questions for me, right?"

At the sound of those quiet words, Seungbae blinks, dragging his eyes back to Bum. His small hands are trembling, and Seungbae can make out the blue veins running beneath fragile skin. He looks so uncertain and scared that Seungbae briefly considers just walking away. He can come back another day, after Bum has a little more time to recover and he himself has more time to get his thoughts straight. His fingers twitch, and he bites his lip.

He knows he can't just leave, but it is a tempting thought.

He nods and forces a smile that he hopes looks real. He pulls out his notepad and pen, which have only seen use to take statements from old drunks and irate owners of newly-totaled cars, and sets them aside for the time being. Instead, he pulls a chair up to the bed and sits down so that they are at the same level.

It hurts to see how surprised and suspicious Bum seems to be by such simple actions. His eyes track Seungbae and he shrinks away slightly as he settles into the chair beside him.

"You're safe now," he reminds, soft and soothing. Bum still startles at the words, looking vaguely shocked, like he hadn't realized how easy it is to read his fear as it flashes across his features. "No one here is going to hurt you."

Bum's dark eyes are wide and unblinking as they watch Seungbae, and he holds perfectly still while Bum sorts through his thoughts and emotions. He smiles at him, more gentle and more sincere than before. Slowly, Bum relaxes. He seems to want to copy the expression, though what he manages is a strained and painful looking twist of lips instead of an actual smile. Seungbae still appreciates the effort and all that it it conveys.

"How are you doing, Bum?" he asks, the notepad still lying unopened in his lap.

Again, it seems that he has caught him by surprise. Bum hesitates, his mouth open and half-formed responses dying in tiny croaks as they catch in his throat. Seungbae waits patiently, keeping his expression pleasant, though he is already itching to go to the cell they are holding Sangwoo in and beat him, a hit for every flicker of doubt and fear in Bum's eyes. He has no doubt that this hesitance, this desperate search for the right response that will not get him killed, has everything to do with Sangwoo.

"I'm...adjusting," Bum finally manages, not meeting Seungbae's eyes.

"I'm glad to hear that. I was worried about you."
Bum's gaze snaps back to him again. He seems to cycle through too many emotions at once, suspicion and wariness and uncertainty flashing across his face. Finally, something like wonder, soft and vulnerable, settles on his features. He wets his lips.

"You were worried...for me?" he asks, brow creased as though this is a concept he just cannot wrap his head around.

Seungbae nods, smiling gently despite the way his stomach twists at this sad shell of a man before him, more damaged than anyone else he thinks he has ever met. Bum's eyes fill with tears and he quickly looks away, blinking fast.

Seungbae gets a glimpse of scar tissue beneath his chin, scraping dangerously close to vital arteries. It is still pink and raised and ugly. Another mark left by Sangwoo, he is certain, and he is glad that Bum is not looking at him anymore, because he knows that the expression that crosses his face at the thought is murderous and he does not want Bum to think that any of his anger is directed anywhere but the horrific monster that has done this to him.

They sit in silence for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts. Surprisingly enough, it is Bum that breaks it.

"How long was I there?" he asks. His eyes are locked on the window of his little hospital room, and the sunlight that penetrates the room seems to be absorbed by his black eyes.

"Do you know what date you were taken captive?" Seungbae asks, fingering his pen.

Bum shakes his head, then turns to look at Seungbae. His expression is distant, thoughtful.

"It was you who saw me on his front porch, wasn't it?"

Hesitantly, Seungbae nods. He can almost hear the accusations that must be racing through Bum's mind, the horror and disgust he must feel. Seungbae is intimate with those same thoughts, after all, lying awake at night and wondering if Bum can ever forgive him for not following his instincts and stopping him then and there, and for taking so long to get him out of that hell even after he had seen him.

"Then I guess that was the date," Bum murmurs. He smiles again, and it is a hollow expression that does not reach his eyes.

"I don't recall the exact date," Seungbae admits. "But I would estimate that it's been a little over six months."

Bum's eyes go wide. He swallows a few times, adams apple bobbing and his pulse visibly fluttering in his throat. He mouth opens, but no words come out.

"Bum?" Seungbae asks, wary. He wonders if her shouldn't have said anything at all. "Hey, Bum, are you still with me?"

He reaches out and gently touches Bum's arm. Bum stiffens, flinching away, and Seungbae quickly removes his hand. He watches Bum take a few deep breaths, wrapping his arms around his shaking frame like he is trying to hold himself together. The steady ticking of the clock is the only sound.

"I was there longer than I thought," he whispers after a long moment. His voice is soft, scratchy. He sounds hurt. Seungbae nods and waits for him to continue, but no more words come.

"Is there someone you want me to call for you, Bum?" he asks, flipping open his notepad at last.

Bum doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring, like he's afraid that if he blinks he will find himself back in that basement. Seungbae sighs. "What were you doing at the house that day? Can you walk me through what happened?"

Bum hesitates, chewing his lip until it bleeds. His tongue darts out to catch the welling red drop before Seungbae can move to offer him a tissue.

"I-I broke into his house," he whispers at last. Seungbae says nothing; he had already figured that much out for himself. "I was exploring, and I heard a sound coming from his closet. I followed it and found the entrance to the basement. It was closed, but I...I looked down there anyways."

Seungbae jots a few sentences down, but he has a good idea where, exactly, this tale is going. He already know how Bum's time in that house ends, but he can still feel the trepidation building in his stomach as he waits to hear more.

"There was a girl down there. She begged me not to kill her. I tried to untie her, but Sangwoo found me before I could. I don't know how he knew I was there, he just said something about how he hadn't seen any family in a long...time…."

Bum trails off, his dark eyes going wide and glassy again. Seungbae knows what it is that he has realized. He can't bring himself to meet Bum's gaze, and instead bows his head low.

"Oh," Bum breathes. His voice is so small, Seungbae can hardly hear him over the sound of his own breathing.

"I'm sorry," is all he says.

"It's fine," Bum replies after a second. He sounds tired. His voice is still barely audible. "I shouldn't have been there in the first place."

Seungbae frowns, lifting his head to meet Bum's sad eyes again. There's something resigned in that gaze, and frustration not directed at Seungbae, but instead inwards, at himself.

"Hey," he says, reaching out again with slow, obvious movements to carefully rest his hand on top of Bum's. This time, Bum does not flinch away. He just stares with those dark eyes, full of shock and uncertainty. "Nothing that Sangwoo did to you or anyone else is your fault. You know that, don't you?"

There is another pause, silence stretching on and on. Seungbae can feel Bum's fingers twitch, the fine tremor in his small hand turning to actual shaking. It feels like it might just be enough to rattle his bones. He listens to Bum's breaths hitch, and wonders if he should take his hand back.

"I thought I was going to die," Bum whispers at last, shattering the silence. Tears are welling in his eyes, catching on his lashes and refusing to fall. "But he could also...there were times…." He pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. "He could be so kind. More kind than someone like me ever deserved."

It is like a punch to the gut, to hear those words, that brokenness in Bum's voice mixed with a distant sort of amazement. On impulse, Seungbae reaches out and clasps Bum's hands with both his own, holding tight. He can feel Bum's bones, tiny and frail and as easily shattered as a bird's fragile wings.

He knows that Bum knows it, too; is intimately familiar with just how easily he can be broken.

His eyes are wide, darting between their linked hands and Seungbae's serious expression. His thin shoulders are stiff, his lip trembling as the tears finally spill over. Even with the terror in his expression, the certainty that he will be hurt, Bum does not try to pull his hand back.

So Seungbae does not let go. He meets Bum's eye and holds his gaze. He watches as Bum slowly begins to realize that this grip will not bring pain, that there is no anger in Seungbae's eyes and no intention to hurt him.

"You survived, Bum," he says, staring into those dark eyes. Bum looks so horribly tired. "You survived, and Oh Sangwoo cannot hurt you anymore."

Bum's lips tremble. His eyes are enormous, and Seungbae watches the tears as they spill over and make their way down the man's pale cheek. He watches as a tear traces over several scars that he had not noticed before, careful white lines that look so lovingly laid over the delicate skin of Bum's face.

"I lived," Bum whispers. His voice shakes, cracks, and suddenly he's sobbing, his entire body curling inwards. He rips his hands away, only to use them to cover his face, like his tears are something to be ashamed of. He looks so alone, so broken, that Seungbae cannot help but reach out.

He rests his hand against Bum's arm and repeats, "You lived."

Before he can withdraw the gentle touch, Bum twists. The hospital sheets bunch around his small frame, catching at his damaged legs like grasping hands, and suddenly Seungbae finds himself with an armful of sobbing man.

He freezes, shocked. He can feel his heart thumping and the blood rushing in his ears. Bum is sobbing into his chest, form twisted awkwardly and boney fingers digging into Seungbae's back, just below his shoulder blades. His mind is racing, trying to catch up, to go over protocol and rules of fraternization and a thousand other technicalities.

He can't seem to recall any of them, over the sound of rushing blood and broken sobbing.

He raises his hands and tentatively wraps Bum in a hug. The man feels insubstantial beneath his grasp, something ethereal, like he may disappear any moment. His voice is hoarse in Seungbae's ear, barely even a whisper.

"I'm alive."

With those words, Seungbae knows that Bum might just be the strongest man he knows.

Welcome to another chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, and favorited this work. It makes my day 1,000% better whenever I see those notifications.

Just so you know, this might be the last chapter, unless some crazy inspiration comes along. If there's anything you want to see happen, feel free to drop a comment or send me a PM. Your thoughts might just be the burst of inspiration I need to continue this fic!

Thank you again for reading!