Work Text:
When he was seven years old, Lee Joong-yeop had cried out of sheer happiness when he learned he was going to be a big brother.
He didn't remember much else other than the absolute euphoria he felt that day - his grin, so wide it had practically ached, and the overwhelming giddiness that had bubbled in his chest and filled him to the brim. He knew that most of his classmates complained about their siblings, but he just couldn't understand it. Maybe it had something to do with being an only child for so long - he wasn't sure.
All he knew was that - while he loved his parents dearly - having a younger sibling meant he would never have to be alone again.
He would finally have someone close to his age to play and spend time with - someone he could teach, and guide, and love and protect - though he had, admittedly, taken the latter part rather seriously. He fondly remembered how he had designated himself as his mother's protector in the months that followed - practically glued to her belly whenever they walked down the street, or when she wanted to get some air in the garden. He remembered telling her to eat healthier - to avoid tiring activities - to get enough sleep - to avoid being stressed - anything - everything he could think of-
-because good big brothers protected their dongsaeng, right?
Right.
That was what he would be. He would be a good- a great- the best big brother in the whole entire world-
And then the unthinkable had happened.
All too suddenly, he was the man of the house. It was up to him to protect his family - it was up to him to care for them all. He had to do it for his mom - for his dongsaeng - grief could wait - he had to be strong, he had to provide - if only he could get the damn stove on to cook their ramyeon because his mom and his dongsaeng had to eat, dammit-
But he had been too late. He had been too late for either of them.
Would things have been different if he'd been able to do more? If he'd known more? If he had the skill to break her fever? If he'd known how to cure his mom?
Those were the questions that had haunted his mind for years - for decades hence - long after the ambulance had driven away with his whole family in the back. Those were the questions that had him filling out applications to medical school - that had him applying to the SAS.
His resolve had sprouted, then: he would know what to do.
Even in the direst situation - even in the barest of conditions - he would know what to do. He would know how to survive - he would know how to keep those he cared for alive. He would be able to save his patients - he would be able to save his soldiers - he would be able to save the grandparent taking care of two grandchildren - those kids wouldn't have to be alone like he had been - he could save them - he could protect them- he would get it right this time, he would-
And then the police had come. The arrest; the interrogation. Agent Hathaway. Cha Jae-hwan.
"Is it five minutes to six?"
He remembered the acrid taste of bile on his tongue - the memories that left him shaking like the seven-year-old boy he once was. And then he had been released - freed - as much as a man so trapped in his past could be.
And then the night at the docks had followed.
He had been formulating a plan as the gasoline dripped down his windshield - trying to think of a way to get out of his latest predicament. He wasn't scared; he had been in direr situations before, and this was just one man and his group of thugs. He could rely on his training - on himself - because that was what he knew how to do.
He knew how to survive alone.
And then suddenly-
"This is the police! Freeze!"
For a few seconds, he genuinely hadn't been able to process what he was seeing. From their previous interactions, Joong-yeop knew that Detective Cha was by no means a fool.
So what the hell was he doing, taking on a group of eight men with nothing but a whistle and two badminton rackets?
And more than that...
What was he doing, risking his life for him?
He had done nothing to earn this man's loyalty - and yet here he was, frantically swiping at the air with the rackets in an attempt at intimidation. He had held his own for a good while - but as he saw the fallen thugs struggle to their feet and close in on the younger man - like a pack of wolves cornering their prey - he knew it was only a matter of time before the detective would be overrun.
It had struck Joong-yeop then, with frightening clarity: Detective Cha - Jae-hwan - could die. If he stood idle, Jae-hwan could die at the hands of these thugs - all because he came to Joong-yeop's rescue.
Because he had stood by Joong-yeop's side.
But the neighbors in Joong-yeop's hometown hadn't- not even when his mother lay on the street - not even when she was coughing up blood-
So why here-
-why now-?
-why did Jae-hwan-?
-when everyone else handn't-?
-how was-
-how was Joong-yeop suddenly no longer alone?
The realization had knocked the air from his lungs - visceral and frightening and raw. It thrust him into motion.
He knew how it would look to Jae-hwan. A serial killer using fire and a suspect making IEDs? If he hadn't been suspicious enough, he knew this would seal the deal.
But none of that mattered now; Jae-hwan could die and Joong-yeop couldn't let that happen.
Not when he realized he wasn't alone. Not when his chest ached with nostalgia - with the bittersweet memory of euphoria and the weight of a promise-
He wouldn't be too late this time. He could do it- he could save him - he could protect him-
-because good big brothers protected their dongsaeng, right?
He had saved them that night - not leaving until he was sure the younger man was completely safe and out of danger. Though, he had thought that would be the end of it; the nostalgia had faded, and he knew that the detective would regard him with suspicion and distrust - regardless of the odd sort of camaraderie they shared in those handful of minutes.
He didn't want to see that happen in front of him.
But... it never did happen; not really. There was suspicion, yes - but he suddenly saw that Jae-hwan had started to give him the benefit of the doubt. The younger man had sought him out - tried to find out the truth instead of branding him a criminal-
(Why here- why now- his father hadn't gotten this opportunity- howhow how-)
And when he finally learned that someone was trying to frame Joong-yeop, Jae-hwan - in all of his infuriatingly selfless glory - had stood by his side as the cards fell around them.
By extension, Jae-hwan's team did the same.
Joong-yeop still couldn't understand why they had done that for him.
And now...
"What are you thinking about?"
Eugene's voice snapped Joong-yeop out of his reverie. He turned to the FBI agent beside him with a small smile, eyebrow raised slightly in question.
"Hm?"
"You seemed far away. What was on your mind?"
"Ah," the doctor hummed, taking a sip of his drink. "Just the past. Memories."
It was Eugene's turn to smile.
"What makes people are memories," she said, in an awful mimic of his voice. An echo of words spoken when they had been nothing more than strangers in an interrogation room.
And as Joong-yeop huffed out a laugh - a genuine smile forming on his lips, because the imitation really was that awful - he couldn't help the small, incredulous shake of his head.
Had there really been a time when they were strangers to one another? It was hard to fathom it, with the way things were, because now...
Now they were-
"Ya!" came Jae-hwan's squawk from beside Joong-yeop, as he fixed the older man with a half-hearted glare - a sofa cushion hugged to his chest. "You know I love you two - really, I do - but this is a really emotional scene in the film and when you both talk we can't hear the movie-"
"Sunbae," Gun-young cut in, looking up at his senior from his position on the floor, right in front of the television. "Honestly, you're louder than both of them now-"
"I'm not! I'm closer to you so of course I sound louder-!"
"You've said a lot more than they did at this point, too," Ha-na added from beside Gun-young.
"Oi, how about you try sitting here, huh? You'll see, they're both really loud-"
"You'll trade places with me and sit on the floor, then, sunbae?"
"Why the hell would I do that, you punk, this couch is really soft-"
And as the nonsensical argument raged around him - Eugene struggling to reach over the doctor's legs to grab Jae-hwan's shirt as the latter tussled with his junior on the ground - Ha-na discreetly taking photos and giving the surgeon a conspiratorial wink - Joong-yeop couldn't help the small, content smile that painted itself on his lips.
He felt warmth bloom in his chest and suffuse though his body, and as he felt the chill thaw from his bones - his soft gaze fixed on the people he held dear, illuminated by the television and the sparse light of the moon filtering in through the curtains - he let the air leave his lungs in a calm and gentle whoosh, tapering off into a sigh.
-Family. Now they were family.