Archive of Our Own

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“How are you feeling?”

The clock on the wall ticks, and the air con subtly whirs to life in the background.

“As good as I can be.” Chan answers, trying to dredge up a half convincing smile. Sana will be able to see through it, she always does, but it’s the effort that counts. It makes him feel a little more human. Instead of a half dead thing dragging itself around and waiting for the next alarm to sound.

Those are the exact sort of thoughts that Sana would encourage him to share because they aren’t helpful or constructive. He’s dehumanizing himself which actively works against everything they’ve been building towards for the last few months together.

Chan ducks his head when he can no longer hold the smile.

“I’m worried about you.” She says. Straight to the point.

“As a professional or as my friend?”

“Honestly it’s a little bit of both. I think we both know that you aren’t doing very well.”

“I just said I was good.”

“As if I wouldn’t catch you in that lie. Please.” She scoffs, a laugh hidden in the sound.

That’s good, that makes Chan feel lighter. They can joke about this, it isn’t a complete and utter failure. His smile comes a little easier, smoother.

The sea glitters from outside, this office being one of the few rooms with such big windows. Maybe that’s why she chose it. It’s not big, but it’s bright and beautiful and it makes Chan miss the beach.

The clock continues to tick. Sana seems to sober, and Chan’s ears begin to ring.

“You can’t keep going on like this, Chan.” She tries to reason, her gentle voice shot through with steel. That’s the problem with knowing someone for half of your life, he supposes. They’re not afraid to tell you when you’re acting like a giant fuck up.

“There’s no where else to go but forward.”

Sana sighs, tap tap taps her pen against her tablet.

“I know how adverse you are to the idea of finding a stable co-pilot,” She begins, and Chan can’t help but interrupt her with a snort. It’s more complicated than that and she knows it. “But you have to understand, shouldering the full neural load completely alone is doing irreparable damage to you. If you find someone to share it with long term, it could drastically decrease the possibilities-“

“I know the risks, Sana. I’ve tried and I don’t want to put anyone else through the things in my head.”

“But you'll put Jisung through it?” She asks not unkindly, but pointed enough.

It's a fair enough question, but it's more complicated than anyone else will ever understand.

“Jisung can handle it, and I've been piloting solo more often. I'm trying the best that I can with what I’m given.”

She doesn’t look pleased with his answer, but it’s the only one he has to offer.

How does he explain that he’s like a wrecking ball, a tsunami battering at the shore. Everyone that’s ever entered the drift with him is left behind to crumble and drown and he can’t do anything but watch it happen. The only solution is to shut everyone else out, because there’s no risk of losing anyone if he’s the only person in danger.

Sana twists her mouth unhappily. “You’re going to have to find a way to make it easier, or else you don’t have much time left.” 

There’s a physical silence that descends at her words. He shifts, coils into himself. “How much time?” 

She pauses, breathes in through her nose. “It’s not something you can un-know, so to say.”

“It’s better than not knowing at all.” 

Sana awakens her tablet, navigating to his file, to the files she consulted with the medical team about. She hands it over so he can process it himself. 

“You could always retire.” She knows the answer already, but she offers it every time, hoping one day he’ll change his mind. 

Chan hands the tablet back, and if she wasn’t looking for it, she would have never noticed the faintest tremor to his hand. “No thanks. That’s not really an option.” 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The numbers don’t look good, he has maybe five more drops in him if he’s lucky; if he staggers them out and he spends at least three of them with Jisung. But even then it’ll be hard.

His brain is cooking itself from the inside out. He either needs a suitable co-pilot or he needs to hang up his fucking helmet.

One of those options feels more impossible than the other.

Jisung is the best of the best, he’s a fucking genius. He hates to be called that, gets all shy and humble, but Chan truly believes it. Top marks in the academy, one of the youngest to test so well. Fifty-three drops, fifty-three kills in the simulations. Adapts well when in real life or death situations and can always pivot if something is about to go wrong.

Not a single mistake.

If you give Jisung enough time with something, he will come out the other side an expert in it.

He’s the only one so far that’s been able to keep up with Chan in the drift.

It gives him headaches that last for days and more than half the time Chan can feel that he’s practically dragging Jisung along by the hand. But he’s lasted longer than anyone else next to Chan, and that’s good enough for the Marshal.

The biggest problem they face is that their compatibility in the drift has been deteriorating since the beginning. Jisung can’t handle drifting together every single time, so Chan elects to drop solo more often than not. The missions are timed and he’s expected to wrap it up within their allotment, but like clock work Jisung is thrown right back into that conn-pod to rebalance Chan’s bubbling neural pathways to hopefully negate the damage he’s inflicting on himself.

He's too good, he's too valuable. The higher ups refuse to pull him completely because they're afraid of what they'd lose if Chan was taken from the roster. So they make empty promises and they do whatever they can to keep him battle ready.

It helps that Chan would rather die alone in a Jaeger than anywhere else.

That's also something he should be working with Sana on. He tries not to bring it up with her, because she always gives him this vaguely disappointed look and he doesn’t much care for it.

There's no way to change his mind on this unfortunately. Chan was built to protect, and if the only way to protect all those he cares about is by climbing into a giant robot and fighting monsters from the ocean, then that's how he's going to spend the rest of his life.

The sound of an alarm pulls him away from his rapidly spiraling thoughts.

It's the sound of an impending Kaiju attack.

Chan is thankful that for a few hours out of the day he can pack away any lingering thoughts about what the future holds for him. Right now he has a job to do, and the aftermath can be dealt with once the monsters are laid to rest.

There will be time later to contemplate his own mortality.

It's an ominous ticking clock in the background of his life, but he doesn't want to focus on it right now.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Moving from Sydney to Nagasaki alone isn’t for the faint of heart, but Felix goes where the Pan Pacific Defense Corps points, and their finger lead him here. A Shatterdome on the other side of the ocean, thousands of miles away from the place he used to call home.

After the disaster off of Auckland’s coast earlier in the year, months of rehabilitation, and his partner having to retire, it was decided that it would be in his best interest to be reassigned. Which apparently meant that Australia’s golden coast was no longer good enough for him.

While it wasn’t considered a punishment in any official capacity, it definitely feels like one to Felix. Perhaps they’ll consider his stay in Nagasaki as time served and soon he’ll be able to go back home where he belongs.

His boots hit the steel of the Shatterdome deck, and Felix already feels out of place.

There’s a familiarity that comes with the general hustle and bustle of people moving about the deck and the breeze coming off of the ocean ruffling through Felix’s hair. It serves to settle a portion of his nerves. If there’s one thing he can count on, it’s for every Shatterdome to operate almost exactly the same.

When he closes his eyes he can almost pretend he’s back in Sydney. Almost.

“Mr. Lee!” A voice greets, pulling Felix’s attention to the side. A man in military uniform strides up, a big smile carved into his face. “I’m so glad to see you arrived safely.”

One look at the decorations on his jacket and Felix immediately fumbles into a bow. “Marshal, hello.”

Marshal Park Jinyoung was well known in the PPDC for his loud personality and divisive leadership. Whether people agreed with his methods or not, he seemed to churn out some of the strongest pilots this side of the pacific.

He immediately reaches for Felix’s hand, sandwiching it between two of his own and giving it a big shake. “Hello, hello. How was your flight? I’m sure it was long but worthwhile! Welcome to the Nagasaki Shatterdome, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Felix is realizing in real time that Marshal Park was the sort of man that spoke a lot and didn’t much expect you to speak back.

The flight was uncomfortable and long and Felix never again wants to be seated for so many hours on end. Instead of saying any of that, he smiles and nods along to Marshal Park as he continues to sing the praises of the Shatterdome.

“There’s much for you to do once you get settled! Come, let’s walk and talk.” The Marshal places a hand at his shoulder and begins to steer him towards the large hangar doors that are wide open. Inside there’s even more activity, Felix watches as big pallets are being wheeled to and fro.

“Is there a place I can put my things?” Felix asks, backpack on his shoulder and a duffel dragging behind him.

Marshal Park opens his mouth to answer, but the sound of a buzzing interrupts them. He fishes a phone from his pocket and frowns down at the screen. Before Felix can inquire about it, he’s beckoning over one of the troopers that was helping haul supplies into a Jumphawk.

Not a trooper, Felix realizes once the kid gets closer, but a rookie. Someone fresh from the academy and still probably green around the gills. Technically a trooper, but he looks so young. So new to it.

He has a nervous smile as he greets Felix, bowing low.

Marshal Park squeezes the kids shoulder. “Please show Ranger Lee to the canteen. I’d do it myself but I’m very busy, I hope you both understand.”

Without much more explanation, he’s tipping his chin at the both of them, mouth stretching into a smile with all of his teeth before he’s walking away.

Felix blinks after him, wondering why he feels like he just missed out on an entire conversation.

The kid bounces on the balls of his feet before he’s clearing his throat, and Felix feels incredibly rude for ignoring him. “Hi, sorry! I’m Felix.” He offers a hand before remembering where he is, quickly dipping into a clumsy bow.

Thankfully the rookie doesn’t seem bothered, if anything his smile stretches wider as he mirrors Felix’s bow. “I’m Geon. It’s nice to meet you!” He’s earnest and excited, his English a little stilted but very impressive. It’s not for the first time that Felix wishes he was more fluent in Korean, or hell even Japanese at this point.

Felix opens his mouth, hoping to ask where the canteen is or maybe even where he’ll be staying for the foreseeable future, but before he can say anything he’s being interrupted by a new voice.

“Hey, Ken.” A trooper greets, and Felix knows with certainty he’s far from a rookie. He may be shorter than Geon, but his biceps are as big as Felix’s head and he has that easy confidence that comes with knowledge and experience. “Tanaka needs you at the hawk.”

“Oh, but Marshal Park-”

The new guy rolls his eyes. “Whatever Marshal Park wanted from you, I’ll handle. Don’t worry. Us Seo’s have to stick together, right?”

“Right, yeah! I mean- We spell our last names a little differently but, yeah. Yeah! Absolutely.”

Felix is beginning to feel the familiar fatigue of having to introduce himself to so many people in a row. He wishes that he could just hand people a business card instead of saying Hi, Felix Lee for the upteenth time since he woke up this morning.

The new trooper watches Geon walk away before he’s swinging to face Felix, an affable smile on his face. “Seo Changbin, Jumphawk pilot.”

“Oh, hi. Felix Lee, Jaeger pilot.”

Changbin whistles. “C’mon. I’ll give you the grand tour. I’m on my break, so we’ve got time.”

None of them ever truly get breaks, constantly on call even in their sleep, but Felix appreciates the attempt to ease his nerves nonetheless.

“Aren’t all Shatterdomes roughly the same?” Felix asks as they walk through the large halls.

“Yeah, but isn’t this better than walking around alone?” Changbin smiles, a little dimple appearing, and Felix immediately trusts this man with his life.

The halls are filled with people coming and going, a low note of ambient chatter everywhere they go, and that feeling of familiarity washes over him once again.

Changbin guides him into an elevator, jamming his finger into one of the many buttons and immediately striking up a conversation with someone standing in the corner.

Once again Felix has to introduce himself, since Changbin is affable and kind and apparently knows everyone they come across during their journey.

Normally Felix would jump at the chance to be sociable and network, especially since he'll be stationed here for who knows how long. But he's tired and his body hurts and he's already homesick.

“Do you know where I'll be staying?” He asks Changbin as they weave their way farther into the Shatterdome.

“I'd assume the resident block. I don't know which door though, that's above my pay grade, but I can show you to someone who would know.”

“That would be great.”

“Wonderful. You should eat lunch first though, just a suggestion. You've been traveling all day and it's important to stay fueled. Oh, hey!” He's once again calling out to someone. Two someone’s, who turn their heads at almost exactly the same time.

Lunch does sound good, if Felix is being very honest with himself. He hasn't eaten since a very meager breakfast after he woke up hours ago and he's starting to feel it. Food first and then he can become horizontal on his bed.

Before introductions can begin yet again, Changbin is looking at his phone and cursing.

Just like that, Felix finds himself being deposited into the company of two men that Changbin claim will take good care of him.

“My union mandated break is officially over!” He winks, and Felix thinks he deserves the world. “Don't worry, though, Innie knows where to take you after you eat. Right, baby?”

One of them gives a lazy salute that just makes Changbin laugh as he leaves.

They introduce themselves as Seungmin and Jeongin, K-Science and J-Tech respectively. Unfortunately Seungmin clearly looks like he belongs to K-Science. Felix doesn’t normally like to profile people, but there’s just something about him that seems so very scientist. Maybe it’s the wire frame glasses or the loose knot of his tie.

Jeongin on the other hand doesn’t have the sort of look that Felix would associate with J-Tech. He’s all angles with a perpetual smile that softens him considerably, wearing a glinting ring on his pointer finger and a long sleeved shirt that seems a little too big in his shoulders. Jeongin looks more like a cadet than someone who gets their hands into the guts and circuitry of a Jaeger.

“So, what brings you here Felix?” Jeongin asks, guiding Felix towards the cafeteria.

“Reassigned.” Felix tells him with a shrug.

Seungmin peers around Jeongin, hands stuffed in his pockets as they walk. “Alone?” He asks, which is fair. It’s not a very common occurrence, showing up alone without a co-pilot or a Jaeger and only a single duffel to his name.

Another shrug, Felix fitting between the two of them as they move to walk single file as to not knock into something a bunch of K-Science guys are wheeling down the hall. It’s a vat of some sort, water murky as it slops against the sides of it’s container.

The only reason Felix realizes that Seungmin falls behind is because Jeongin pivots at the front of their line, lunging past Felix to grab at Seungmin’s shoulder and haul him bodily into the large open space of the cafeteria.

“But- they might have a live specimen-”

“The last Kaiju we had was killed over a month ago, Seung. That thing would not be live and you know it.”

Felix couldn’t see much of anything with how dark the water was, but he’d bet that Jeongin was right. Seungmin makes a displeased sound as they find a table at the edges of the room and Felix can finally put down his bag.

“Uhm, yeah. Alone.” Felix says as they all sit down, answering Seungmin’s question that was forgotten in favor of mysterious containers. “Apparently there was an opening, so. Here I am.”

Jeongin sucks his teeth. “Ah, yeah. It makes sense they’d want to fill the spot.”

“Especially after how quickly he got shipped out.” Seungmin adds cryptically.

Jeongin hums in agreement and Felix is so curious.

“Who?

They share a silent look between them, as if they’re holding an entire conversation in just the tilt of their eyebrows.

“Fine, you win.” Jeongin huffs, making Seungmin smile like a dog who was just handed a very large treat. “Ranger Hwang- You’ll probably end up meeting him, especially if you’re meant to be the replacement, but Hyunjin had this partner that got reassigned. Like, really recently.”

“Barely a month ago.” Seungmin adds, leaning into Jeongin’s side.

“He was... kind of problematic.”

“Aka, a huge dick.”

“Am I telling Felix, or are you?”

“Both things can be true, Innie.”

“Oh my god, whatever.”

Recognition at the Rangers name is immediately swallowed by the avalanche of information given to him. Words volleyed between the two of them like a very fast paced game of table tennis.

“They reassigned him for being a dick?”

“Yes.” Seungmin says, at the same time Jeongin says, “No.”

Another huff. Jeongin tries to physically block Seungmin out of the conversation with his body. “The Marshal doesn’t look too kindly on people who shit talk others and start fights in the middle of the command center.”

In the command center? “No way.”

Seungmin picks up where Jeongin left off. “He got into it with Chan and well. You don’t start fights with Chan unless you’re willing to face the consequences.”

“It was kind of a whole thing that had been building up for months, it’s not our place to tell-”

“But if it were-” Seungmin chirps from over Jeongin’s shoulder.

“Then we’d tell you that he was making it difficult for Hyunjin to drift with him.”

“Almost made their last drop together a fucking failure.”

“See, this is what jealousy does to a person, it takes over everything, even the drift.” Jeongin scoffs, leaning back into Seungmin’s body easily.

“Loser behavior.” Seungmin agrees solemnly.

“So.” Jeongin continues, and it’s really a special kind of talent the way they both play off of each other. Taking turns speaking as if it comes naturally to them, the trade off between their voices incredibly smooth. “He picked a fight, lost abysmally, and within the week he was packing his bags for Anchorage. Chan wanted him gone.”

“And now you’re here.” Seungmin punctuates his sentence with a smile.

Felix blinks at them once they’re finished. Distantly he thinks they’d make an amazing Jaeger pilot team. “Oh, wow. That’s- a lot.”

“Shit.” Jeongin curses suddenly, capturing both Felix and Seungmin’s attention. “We sat down without getting food.” He smacks his own forehead as he stands up, which makes Seungmin tip sideways on the bench in his absence. “I’ll go grab us something, what do you-”

An alarm interrupts their conversation, and Felix wants to get up and run. It's been drilled into him, day and night no matter the time. It’s a call to attention, but he has nothing to run to.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The LOCCENT deck is awash in a rainbow of LED colors, and at the center is Minho.

Under any other circumstances this wouldn’t be permitted. Minho doesn’t have the rank to allow him to be seated here, at the heart of the command center, every time a Jaeger is deployed. But fortunately, or unfortunately if you’re Lee Minho’s blood pressure, there are certain luxuries afforded to someone personally vetted by Bang Chan himself.

Being awarded the mantle for making sure he doesn’t fucking kill himself or his co-pilot is one of them. Isn’t Minho lucky?

“Chan, you’re out of alignment. The Neural Handshake is unstable.” Minho relays, staring at the little hologram of their Jaeger, Twilight Ghost. It’s begun flashing an ominous orange.

“I know- I can feel it.” Chan’s voice comes through the comm.

“Stabilize it now, or I’m calling you back.”

When it comes to these very specific men currently struggling so badly that Minho is afraid it won’t be a Kaiju that takes them out, Minho’s first order of business will always be to make sure they come home safe.

The comm crackles, nothing that would be too worrisome to anyone else but it’s enough to have Minho flipping a few switches, trying to find the interference.

“I’m trying.”

The projection of the Jaeger flashes orange, and Minho hisses at it. It fizzles on his tongue as the Jaeger stumbles, the hologram suspended over the keys, still flashing, as it’s left side trips on it’s own foot. Twilight Ghost leans into a skyscraper for balance and Minho just knows they'll have to pay for reconstruction to the upper floors.

“Jisung?” Silence greets him. “Jisungie, answer me.”

“I’m ok.” Jisung finally finds his voice, but it’s weak and thready and it has Minho’s heart crawling up into his throat.

Chan rights Twilight as best as he can, but there’s a creak to his voice as he comes through. “Minho, I can pilot by myself. I'm going to eject Jisung-”

“No!”

“Jisung, I can’t-”

“You're both coming home.” He swivels, opens a channel, ignores the looming presence of the Marshal at his back. “Jumphawk one, this is LOCCENT.”

Immediately Changbin is answering, the steady calm in the middle of a fucking hurricane. “Go LOCCENT.”

“Changbin, I'm pulling the plug. Get them the hell out of there.”

“On it.”

“I can't- I'm fine. I'm fine, I just need to-” Jisung tries, and the Jaeger stumbles again. Both Chan and Jisung groan in pain.

“Jisung.” Minho stresses, feeling his pulse behind his eyes. “You're coming back home before the Neural Handshake unravels at the fucking seams and takes you with it.”

It's a testament to Changbin and how good he is at what he does, because Twilight Ghost is hooked up to the Jumphawks quickly, ready to be emergency evacuated and brought back home within minutes.

Minho stays with them for as long as he can, which isn’t as long as he’d like since the Marshal is calling for the Jaeger that was meant to be running backup for them to take point, the screens switching targets and suddenly all of his privileges are washing away.

The last thing he hears is Changbin’s voice confirming that they’re en route before he’s being pushed from the desk.

One of Minho’s specialties is happily ignoring every single look the Marshal slides his way, and he does so yet again as he slips from the command center without asking to be dismissed. He has somewhere he needs to be.

The journey down to the main hangar's floor is longer than one might expect, and Minho runs the entire way. He wants to be one of the first people to see his boys stumble their way out of the Jaeger, confirming that they're safe and sound with his own eyes.

Minho paces the catwalk, counting down the minutes and weaving between techs that are scrambling around to prepare for an emergency recall. Finally, the hangar doors are opening with a loud hiss, and Minho feels the anxiety sizzling through his lungs as the sound of the Jumphawk blades make their selves known, lowering Twilight Ghost down.

It’s always a sight to behold; a Jaeger coming home.

Minho curls his fingers into the sleeves of his sweater, antsy and trying to hide it as he waits through the arduous process of dissembling a two hundred and fifty foot tall Mech. The catwalk is extended forward, connecting to the head once it’s safely detached, and Minho tries his best to stay where he is.

Let the techs and the medical team do their jobs, stay out of their way. He repeats these instructions to himself the entire time he stands there, but it’s all immediately forgotten the moment the hatch opens. Soon enough Chan is stepping through, reaching back to help Jisung out.

His boys are home and safe and Minho’s heart is working double time in his chest.

He goes to Chan first, because a paramedic is looking at Jisung and they’re never very happy when Minho invades their space to ask if they know what they’re doing. So he does what he can; pulling Chan into a hug, uncaring of the way the suit makes it nearly impossible to get as close as he wants to.

All of the stiff ridges dig into the softest parts of his stomach, but it’s worth it to know that Chan is here, standing on his own two feet and breathing.

“You’re an idiot.” Minho says into the only piece of bare skin of Chan’s he can reach; mouth smashed into the spot above his pulse point.

Chan hugs back, crushing him closer. “I know.”

“You almost got the both of you killed.”

“I know.”

“I’m so fucking happy you’re alive. You know that too, right?”

The reply takes longer to work it’s way from Chan’s mouth. First he inhales deeply, tucking his own face into Minho’s shoulder. He let’s it out in one long shuddering breath, fingers anchoring themselves into Minho’s back. “Yeah, I do.”

There’s something about it that doesn’t feel convincing enough. Like Chan is just saying it to try and believe it, and that doesn’t sit right with Minho.

He pulls away from their hug, taking Chan’s face in between both of his hands. Normally Minho hates the concept of looking someone in the eye, finds it weird and unnecessary. But it matters right now that Chan can see how sincere he is when he tells him this. It matters and that’s enough for Minho.

“Stop that. I mean it. You’re a big, giant idiot, but you came home.”

Chan sniffles hard, nodding sharply. “All thanks to you.”

“All thanks to you.” Minho shakes him. “I just told Changbin to pick your sorry asses up. You kept everything from imploding, that was all you.”

It always feels like an impossible task to convince Chan of his own importance, but something must finally break through because he's nodding. Squeezing Minho around the middle and breathing out harshly through his nose.

“Yeah. Ok.”

“Ok?”

Another nod, stepping back from their impromptu embrace. “Go on, then.” Chan urges, tipping his head towards where Jisung is getting a flashlight shone in his eyes. “I know you're worried about him.”

“I’m worried about you both.” Minho pinches at his chin, hard enough to make Chan flinch. “But if you ever put him in danger like that again, I’m killing you myself.”

That finally gets Chan to laugh, and it spreads through Minho like a warm sigh of relief.

Chan is still smiling as he gives a silly salute. “Understood, sir.”

“Go tell Jeonginnie that you're fine. He's been trying his best to pretend like he hasn't been nauseous while waiting for you to come back.”

“Will do. And thank you, Minho.”

“No need to thank me.” Minho waves him off, but he makes sure that Chan sees his own curling smile. “But you're very welcome.”

The paramedic is putting their pen light away when Minho walks over, a displeased look on their face. It’s someone Minho has seen before, but he can’t remember their name at all. He just knows that they’re a decent person who takes their job seriously.

“Is he ok?”

“Oh good, Minho’s here.” They say and Jisung groans.

Pouting and glaring, Jisung crosses his arms. “I’m fine.”

The paramedic ignores him. “He’s going to be a little dizzy for the rest of the day and he should definitely get some rest. If his headache gets any worse, bring him by the clinic immediately.”

“He has a headache?” Minho asks, already reaching for Jisung’s head.

“He’s had a headache, from what he told me.”

More pouting, Jisung grumbles. “Can you not talk about me like I’m not standing right here?”

“Thank you for the reminder- he shouldn’t stand for too long. Reduced screen time is recommended, but we all know how that’ll fair.”

“Ok, rude as hell.”

“Jisung. You just spent over an hour trying to fight off being forcibly ejected from the drift. It’s genuinely a fucking miracle that you didn’t have a seizure or worse. So please do me a favor and relax.” They zip up their EMS duffel. “And for the love of anything left in this world that’s holy, get a new fucking partner. I like you too much to see you get fried alive. No offense to Chan, of course.”

With that, they promptly leave after giving Jisung one last warning to take better care of himself.

Once they’re alone, Jisung looks up at Minho with his big doe eyes. His pouting mouth has softened, melting from an angry twist into something much sadder.

“Hi.” It’s such a pathetic greeting, warbling and a little wet as if Jisung is suddenly on the verge of breaking into tears.

Minho hugs him so tightly that there's a very real possibility that he might just crack a rib.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me?” Jisung asks, voice small. His hands fist in Minho’s sweater, burying his face into the slope of Minho’s neck.

“Not right now, Sungie. Maybe later, once I remember that I’m angry at you, but right now I just want to hold you.”

“Yeah, ok. Me too.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The news feed cuts as Twilight Ghost falls to a knee, the anchors at their desks trying to explain what everyone is seeing. Felix stands, staring up at the screen, feeling an odd pit of nerves at the sight. Another screen shows the Kaiju continuing to tear through the coast of Busan, Jumphawks hovering in the sky like flies buzzing around a corpse.

Jeongin curses under his breath at the sight, and Felix watches as Seungmin reaches out to tangle their hands together.

“We’re getting reports that Twilight Ghost is being taken out of the fight, and in their place Echo Outlaw will be stepping in to finish off what Twilight failed to do.”

“Oh, this is going to suck.” Seungmin says as the feed shows the Jaeger being carried away.

Jeongin seems to come back to himself. He lifts their joined hands to his mouth, pressing Seungmin’s knuckles against his chin as he breathes in deeply. Just once. “If they’re coming home I have to be there, make sure everything is ready-”

“Go, you shouldn’t be watching the news anyway.” Seungmin urges him, and Jeongin doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s taking off towards the main hangar.

Soon the news is cutting back to the cityscape as the sleek shape of Echo Outlaw runs towards the Kaiju.

The speakers crackle and fizz with the force of the Kaiju’s deafening roar, and Felix can’t help but flinch at the sound of it. For a brief, dizzying moment, he can’t breathe. The sensation of water fills his lungs on the inhale, the sounds of claws meeting metal amplified on the television, making him gasp.

It’s not real, he has to remind himself. He exhales, slow and steady, and with it purges all thoughts of rushing water and emergency lighting and fire licking up his spine.

If Seungmin noticed his moment of choking on thin air, he thankfully doesn’t mention it.

Hwang Hyunjin comes walking over just then, pulling Seungmin into his side once he’s close enough. His eyes are glued to the screen, shaking his head as they all listen to the reporters give updates on Echo Outlaws progress.

Felix recognizes him almost immediately, even if his hair is shorter than it ever was in the Academy. It’s hard to forget a face that beautiful. They attended the Academy together, classmates and close friends, and it’s incredibly relieving to finally see someone he actually knows.

“Where’s Innie?” Hyunjin asks.

“Waiting for the big homecoming.” Seungmin answers, leaning into Hyunjin’s hold. “He didn’t have to watch his hometown get stomped on anyway.”

Hyunjin hums in understanding, gaze finally flitting away from the screen, skipping over Felix before returning and sticking. “Oh, holy shit. Felix? Hi, how have you been?”

“Better.” Felix answers truthfully, his back still aching from the trip.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“I’m benching you.” Chan declares later, once they’re alone long enough for him to do this, looming over Jisung’s hunched form.

They’re in the middle of a hallway, Jisung crouched with his back against the wall, pressing his palms so hard into the hollows of his eyes that it’s beginning to unsettle Chan.

Minho left them a few minutes ago, called back to his post and the moment he was gone Jisung had practically crumbled into himself. That alone was enough to cement Chan’s decision.

“What?” Jisung seethes, shakes his head. “You can’t do that.”

“I can, and I am. You’re benched, Jisung. You were almost ejected from the drift earlier, I can’t have that happening again.”

His shoulders curl further, whole frame shaking. “I was having an off day, I’m sorry. I could’ve powered through it.”

“Jisung.” Chan funnels every ounce of his most reprimanding tone into just his name.

“It’s just a headache!” The hands fly away from his eyes, and Chan can see how red rimmed they are. The sunken dark circles, the strain in his gaze. It’s the look of a man who’s having trouble sleeping, Chan knows that look. It greets him in the mirror every morning.

“One that you’ve had for three days!” Chan yells, voice booming and sharp.

It’s so uncharacteristic of him. He’s not a yeller, not if he can help it. Chan believes that most things are better handled with a calm heart and a clear head. No one ever responds positively to yelling.

Jisung flinches at his tone, jaw clicking shut and eyes going round. “I-” He tries, stumbles. “I can do better.”

The words are like a fucking harpoon to Chan’s chest.

“You shouldn’t have to! That was the worst it's been in awhile. I can't put you through that. I won't.” He chokes on his own voice, trying to regulate it into something measured and normal. “Get some rest, Jisung.”

Without waiting for a reply, Chan is turning and walking away. Head down, shame at the way he spoke to Jisung already rising up like bile. His shoulder knocks into someone on his way around the corner, barely paying attention to his surroundings.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” He still isn’t, if he’s being honest. Chan vaguely registers Hyunjin in his periphery, spikey hair and raised eyebrows, and attached to him is- Chan trips over his words, brain rebooting.

Pink hair, freckles, perfectly shaped lips.

“Sorry.” He says again, struck dumb.

The unknown man blinks at Chan, nodding and saying it’s alright in a voice much deeper than Chan was expecting. It settles somewhere in his stomach, giving him the same feeling as when the heart of his Jaeger comes to life and reverberates through his sternum.

Chan needs to get out of here.

There’s something so fucking imbalanced about his neurons right now and everything feels a little tilted on it’s side. The guilt at benching Jisung simmers in his gut, mixing with whatever vertigo he’s being subjected to at the hands of someone he’s never met before.

One last apology stitched together with a quick aside to Hyunjin, Chan finally pulls himself away and continues down the hall. He steals one last look over his shoulder before the crowd swallows him up, and the boy with freckles is staring right back.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Felix’s eyes follow the figure as he stalks away, hands curled into fists at his side. “Who was that?” His arm still tingles from the collision.

“Bang Chan.” Hyunjin informs him, draping himself along Felix’s shoulders, physically steering him away from the retreating back of Bang Chan. “He’s a pretty big name around here, like almost celebrity level. Honestly he's a big sweetheart, even if he is kind of intense. Jisungie!” His conspiratorial voice pitches loud as Felix is brought over to someone hunched in on themselves. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I'm benched, apparently.” Jisungie spits the words, fingers rubbing circles into his forehead. “What right does he have to fucking bench me- Oh shit, hi. Sorry. I'm Han Jisung.”

Han Jisung blinks up at Felix with the roundest, wettest eyes he’s ever seen on a person. Felix immediately feels endeared to him in a way he can’t explain. As if he’s staring at a small woodland creature tucked away in the hollow of a tree or something. Felix shakes the hand offered. “Felix Lee.”

He squints at Felix. “You look so familiar.”

“He graduated the same year as us.” Hyunjin informs him.

“No way! Ok, I remember you now. Wow, that's crazy.”

“Wait, why are you benched?”

Jisung takes a deep breath, holds it for a count of five, and then he's smiling wide. “Chan thought it'd be for the best.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin sucks his teeth, and Jisung glares at him. “Can you blame him, though?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Hey you.” Seungmin greets, joining Jeongin at the railing of the deck. The dark expanse of the ocean stretches out in front of them, the surface calm in the flood lights. “I was wondering where you went.”

Jeongin hums, shoulders hunched and head hung. “I just needed some air.”

Fair enough, Seungmin thinks. He slides closer, pressing the line of their shoulders together. It settles something in Seungmin’s rioting stomach when Jeongin leans into his touch, the exhaustion radiating off of him in waves.

“Did you hear from-”

“Yeah, my mom called.” He holds up his phone, showing it off before shoving it into one of the many pockets on his coveralls. “They got to a shelter in time; everyone is ok.”

“Good.” That’s good, it’s better than good really. “How are you?” That’s what Seungmin cares about the most, over anything else to happen today.

Jeongin shifts, tips his face up towards the night sky. “Honestly?”

“Always.”

“I’m really fucking mad at Chan, and I feel really stupid for it. That’s his job. Pilots put themselves in danger all the time but I’m just so fucking-” He groans, frustrated.

Seungmin hums, making a show of digesting the sentiment even though his mind has been thoroughly made up since the moment he watched Twilight fall to a knee.

“He pushed himself and Jisung, and put a lot of people in danger. Not just himself or Jisung, but everyone along the coast. I think you get to be a little mad at him.”

Jeongin sighs, shoulders slumping and leaning heavy into the railing in front of them. “He just keeps hurting himself, Seung.”

“I don’t think he knows any other way.”

That’s a depressing thought that sinks into their conversation like a rock through wet concrete. For as long as Seungmin has known Chan, he’s been the sort of person that puts himself in danger to protect those around him.

That’s the reason Seungmin is even standing here today; Chan’s bone deep instinct to save people.

He remembers being young and scared and holding on to Jeongin as the PPDC Academy groaned underneath their feet. A Kaiju roared far too closely for comfort, shaking not only the foundation but Seungmin’s bones as well.

It was Chan who had snatched them to safety as the groaning turned into rumbling and splitting and children screaming. Gripping onto his jacket as Chan stared over Seungmin’s shoulder at where the rest of the building was standing just moments before.

Most of all, he remembers Jeongin crying. Great big hiccuping sobs, face streaked with dust. It was the last time Jeongin allowed himself to cry, as Seungmin had wrapped him in a hug. They had been virtually inseparable ever since.

Seungmin slips his hand into Jeongin’s back pocket.

“Is the ass squeeze to lift my morale or your own?”

“I think it's for the both of us.”

That, finally, gets him to smile. Big and wide and uncovering his dimple. He leans into Seungmin, knocking their heads together as if they were both cats.

Seungmin can understand sometimes why Minho calls him a kitten he needs to care for.

Using his free hand, refusing to let go of Jeongin’s ass just yet, Seungmin reaches across to cradle the back of Jeongin’s head. He pulls him close, pressing a kiss to Jeongon’s cheek. Solid and lingering, breathing a sigh against his skin.

“Oh my God, kiss me for real or get the fuck out of here.” Jeongin scoffs, and Seungmin rolls his eyes before kissing him squarely on the mouth just to shut him up.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

What Chan doesn't tell Jisung is that he's effectively benched too. The top brass want him Jaeger ready as soon as possible though, so it's only for long enough to get yet another psych eval under his belt.

“How have you been sleeping?” Sana asks because she has to, even if they both already know the answer.

“The same.” Chan tells her.

They're in one of the few common rooms in the Shatterdome. A lounge area that's meant to simulate a home away from home for pilots and officers to relax in when they don't have a home to return to.

Chan has been avoiding Sana for a few days now, currently not in the mood to rehash all of his most recent mistakes, but she had eventually cornered him. Wielding her tablet like some sort of weapon and directing him to a set of arm chairs angled towards each other.

Sana sighs, marks something down on her trusty tablet.

Chan can't find it in himself to worry about what it is she's logging about him. Either he'll pass just like he always does, slapped with a suspiciously clean bill of health, or Sana will try to make a case that Chan isn't fit for duty only for it to magically never see the desk of anyone important.

It should probably bother him more than it does; the knowledge that the system is rigged and using him regardless of his mental stability.

Unfortunately they want the same thing Chan does. To be in a Jaeger. He can't be too mad at the decisions being made if it means that he ends up exactly where he wants to be. Maybe he should be concerned with what that says about himself.

Sana hums, asks about his headaches. He tells her the truth, that they haven't gotten much better but they haven't yet gotten worse. It's a consistent pain that sits heavy behind his eyes, never truly wavering. She once again taps at her tablet, mouth pursed.

Chan has been staring at a chess board set off to side for the better part of twenty minutes. It's perfectly set up all for a single white pawn that's been moved forward.

“And your appetite? Has it come back at all?”

“A little.” He lies, fingers itching to move it back where it belongs. Or maybe to take his own turn, to move one of the black pawns.

“The nosebleeds?” She asks, much harsher than any of the other questions.

Chan closes his eyes and tips his head away from her. “They're manageable.”

Manageable isn't the word Sana wants to hear, he knows this, but there isn't much of a way to stop them right now.

They’re the one thing that Jisung doesn't get and Chan never wants him to. Nosebleeds are a sign of late stage neural overload, and it’s something he's always watching for in Jisung. It's honestly the one symptom that Jisung would not be able to argue his way out of no matter how hard he tried.

Sana sighs but doesn't comment, clearly unhappy. Chan refuses to meet her eye.

Once she’s run through all of the standard questions and tries her best to impart some modicum of tough love on him, she's sighing again and standing up.

“Can you do me a favor and at least try to relax? For my own piece of mind.”

Chan nods, giving her a smile before he's glancing back at the chessboard. “Of course, I'll do my best. The only training I'll be doing is whatever the Marshal asks.”

Sana makes a face at the mention of the Marshal, but doesn't make any comment.

Once Chan is alone he makes his way over to the board, chewing on his lip and staring at the little white pawn that isn't in its place.

The urge to move one of the black pawns to mirror the white feels much stronger than the need to set the board back to rights. It itches underneath his finger tips.

This happens sometimes; Chan becoming so fixated on such a small detail that he can't move on with his life until he does something about it. So he nudges the pawn forward, directly across from the white piece. It's a perfect mirror, and it settles something in Chan's head.

The next day Chan finds himself drawn to that lonely chess board in the corner of the lounge. All he could think about when he should have been struggling to sleep were the pawns. He has to go and put them back in their places.

The knowledge that they aren't where they belong eats at him all morning until he can finally make his way there, ready to reset the board.

When he arrives, another white piece has been moved. As if it’s answering what he did with the black pawn.

He looks around the lounge, but there isn’t any sort of clue on who could be messing with the board. There’s only three other people scattered about and they’re each focused on their own tasks. One of the troopers is fully napping on the couch.

Chan stares down at the board, contemplating his next move. He could walk away and let someone else deal with this, or he could reset the entire board like he was planning to do in the first place. Or, a secret third option, where he continues to play, his curiosity getting the best of him.

It takes him too long to make a decision, but finally he reaches for the board and moves one of his pieces. Nudging it to a new square, careful to not take any of the white pieces too early.

Next move, maybe.

Sana finds him before the week is done, looming over the chess board.

Every day for the last few days Chan has come by the lounge and without fail there’s another piece moved across the board. Whoever he’s playing with is pretty good at the game, and it fascinates Chan. They don’t seem to be some sort of chess master, which is good because neither is Chan.

But they seem to know what they’re doing, blocking Chan every time he tries to push forward.

Sana is holding that tablet of hers, finger tapping at the corner of it as she watches him contemplate the chess pieces in front of him.

He’s been standing here for the better part of the last twenty minutes, stuck on what to do next.

“I have good news and bad news.” She eventually speaks up, effectively stealing away most of his attention.

He’d rather hear the bad news first, that way the balm of good news can ease any of the pain left over from the bad news. But Sana has never worked like that, not in all of the years Chan has known her. She always starts with good news, no matter what it is.

He hums in acknowledgement, turning away from the board so that he can at least appear as if he’s focused on what she’s saying. Like an afterimage behind his eyelids he can see the black and white grid and the little plastic pieces moving on their own.

“Good news- you’re cleared for duty.”

That is good news, incredible news actually. But Chan doesn’t allow himself to celebrate just yet since she hasn't delivered the other half of her announcement.

“Wonderful, what’s the bad news?”

“The Marshal is very serious about you finding a permanent co-pilot. Like, you can only be cleared for duty if you find one, type of serious.”

Chan makes a face. He knows he makes a face because Sana seems to mirror it in sympathy.

“Really?” He questions, just in case there’s been a mistake and Sana is about to shout sike!

“Really.”

The entire process of trying to search for a suitable co-pilot is always fucking tiring and Chan isn’t looking forward to it in the slightest. It’s always the same analysts checking their charts and comparing notes and trying to pair Chan up with someone determined by a compatibility test done on graph paper.

It’s only ever worked once, and he got Jisung out of it.

All Chan can hope for is that they move on to the physical tests sooner rather than later. Those are always more fun than sitting in an office and trying and failing to ace a simulation drift with someone he’s never met before.

Before Sana leaves, she taps at a chess piece. “Careful of this knight.”

Chan supposes he should be, but the longer he stares at the board, the more confident he becomes that it's not an issue right now. There's something else happening here, some strategy that is meant to draw his attention while something is being planned elsewhere.

His own knight is moved, and Chan hopes it's the right call.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It's the end of a very long week, and Chan just wants to relax. He's had to sit through multiple psych analysts trying to shortlist a group of unpaired Rangers best suited to drifting with him and it’s getting fucking exhausting. Day after day they’ve all failed, and Chan is left feeling dizzy and untethered.

But the Marshal insists, and if the Marshal insists then there’s no room for argument.

Under normal circumstances, it's most common to drift with family members or close friends. Someone who shares life experiences and memories, making it easier to slip into their head space and share a consciousness. But if that's an impossible task then the PPDC will do their best to find someone who is compatible regardless of your connection to them.

Even if they're a complete stranger.

Scraping up the last bits of his energy, Chan takes a detour into the lounge, already thinking of his daily chess move. They’ve been at a stand still for days, pieces moving around each other in some stubborn dance that has Chan looking forward to what comes next. It’s thrilling, really, to see the path each piece will take and yet him and his phantom partner continue to try and out match each other.

There’s a few people scattered about the room as he walks in, rangers and troopers alike, talking or reading or snacking. It reminds Chan that he hasn’t eaten much at all today and that he’s actually feeling hungry. Well that’s a development that he’ll have to tell Sana about; his appetite is coming back to him little by little.

His footsteps falter as he gets closer to the little table in the back with what he’s been calling his chess board, someone hovering over it with their hand reaching out.

“Hey, I’m actually in the middle of a game. Can you not touch it, please?”

The person startles, whipping around to face Chan and- oh. It’s the boy from before. The one that was fused to Hyunjin’s side, with big eyes and freckles.

“Oh, sorry- wait, you’re in the middle of a game?” They narrow their eyes, finger pointing at Chan. “I’ve been playing against someone all week. Has it been you?”

Chan finally gets to see who he’s been playing against for days and it’s someone who makes him believe in angels. Maybe this week isn’t so bad after all.

“You’re the white pieces? Hi, I’m Chan.” Belatedly he holds his hand out for an introduction.

“Oh yeah, I know. I’m Felix.” Felix’s hand is so small, fragile bones fitting so perfectly into Chan’s palm.

“You know?”

Felix blushes, a faint pink dusting his cheeks in record time. “I just mean- you’re very well known! You’re kind of all anyone talks about around here.”

Ah, that’s fair enough. It’s Chan’s turn to flush red, embarrassment taking hold. “Right,” he coughs, choosing to drop this line of conversation and instead move towards the chess board.

He gravitates towards his side, with what’s left of his black pieces. Felix explains that this has been one of the most frustrating yet exciting parts of his day, something that he gets to look forward to after training.

Chan wholeheartedly agrees.

“Every move I make seems to already be anticipated by you, it’s aggravating!” Felix laughs, shaking his head.

“How do you think I feel?” Chan replies, because he’s felt that same frustration every time he’s stared down at their little game and realized that any move he makes will already be pointless by the next day.

Talking with Felix is easy, it’s smooth. It fizzles in Chan’s bloodstream and clears the fog from his brain. Just fifteen minutes ago he was more than ready to fall into his bed and only crawl back out under threat of Kaiju attack but now all he wants is five more minutes of Felix’s time.

Felix still hasn’t made his move yet, staring down at the chess board as he speaks. Voice deep and resonant, accent reminding him of home, and Chan could fall asleep to it.

His fingers touch one of his bishops still left on the board, fleeting, before they’re moving to the last knight.

Chan can see the move Felix is about to make before he makes it, because Chan would have done the same if their positions were switched.

“Checkmate!” Felix says happily, and Chan can't help but laugh.

“Congrats, I don't think anyone has managed to get me in check before.”

“Wait, seriously?" Felix’s eyes sparkle when he smiles, and Chan doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sight.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Felix settles into the lounge with Hyunjin, basking in the ability to do absolutely nothing as they both take a well earned break. They’re both tired and sweaty, though for two very different reasons. Hyunjin has just come from the gym while Felix feels as if his entire body is about to fold into itself after an intense session of physical therapy.

The life of a Jaeger pilot is never stagnant, and while Felix loves this job more than anything in the world, it begins to take it’s toll. Especially when his body is already trying to disintegrate from underneath him.

That’s what the physical therapy is for though. It’s meant to prevent anything worse from happening. It can’t fix him entirely, he knows this, but it’s supposed to help. Right now it feels as if he was put through a taffy stretcher and if he tries to lay on his back he’ll burst into tears.

It’s bad before it gets better. It’s been the same mantra for almost a year, he knows this, but the bad days still knock the breath from him.

Hyunjin pats the top of Felix’s head, settling into a chair as Felix takes up the length of the couch. Thankfully the lounge is practically empty so they didn’t have to haggle for the good spots.

“Do you need anything?” Hyunjin asks, stretching out as far as his body will allow until they both hear a satisfying pop. Felix watches with one eye, the rest of his face mashed into the cushion. He makes sure to shake his head once Hyunjin is looking at him.

It’s not official just yet, but Felix has it on good authority that once everything is in order, he’s most likely going to be paired up with Hyunjin by the end of the month. First he has to get through the mandatory training and PT to make sure he's up to shape after his emergency sabbatical.

Felix is looking forward to it if he’s honest. He considers Hyunjin one of his closest friends and it means he’ll be back in a Jaeger soon. That’s all he really wants, and Felix will do whatever it takes to get there.

“Did you hear?” Jisung asks in lieu of a greeting as he appears from nowhere and practically throws himself into Hyunjin’s lap.

Felix perks up, rolling as far onto his side as his back will currently let him.

“I hear a lot things.” Hyunjin answers automatically, hooking an arm around Jisung’s waist.

“The Psych people have been systematically hunting unpaired Rangers down to test their compatibility with Chan.”

Felix finds himself making a surprised little noise. “Are they getting that desperate?”

“I mean,” Jisung makes a face. He has the type of face that’s incredibly expressive and is always pulling itself into cartoonish shapes. Felix is endlessly endeared by this boy. “It sounds like it. According to Chan, they’ve been doing a bunch of one on one sessions with him and other potentials, but he’s pretty sure they’re going to be widening their scope of candidates soon.”

Hyunjin sucks his teeth. “Sounds desperate.”

“Wait, what does that mean?” Felix asks, sitting up and trying not to grimace at the way his back tenses at the sudden movement.

“It means,” Jisung emphasizes, leaning in close. “Be prepared for your name to end up on someone’s clipboard.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “You said they’ve been doing one on one sessions, right? I bet someone got on their asses about constantly hooking Chan up into a sim drift, so they’re going old school. They’re shoving everyone who’s even potentially compatible into a ring with him and hoping for the best.”

“How do you know that?” Felix asks, curious.

Hyunjin ticks an eyebrow. “Call it experience. Management is always trying to find a match for Chan. It’s like tradition at this point.”

Jisung leans back, resting all of his weight on Hyunjin. “It’s like some really fucked up hazing ritual. Let all of the rookies get their ass handed to them, and maybe if they survive they get to tool around in Chan’s head.”

It doesn’t sound like a very pleasant time, yet Felix is almost immediately intrigued. He remembers what it felt like to beat him in chess. The way Chan had smiled in disbelief and had reset the board, excited to try again.

“Are you sure my name will end up on a clipboard? Is there anywhere official that I can sign up for it?”

“You want to try drifting with Bang Chan? Willingly?” Jisung arches an eyebrow.

“You’re making him out to be some fairytale myth. He’s just a man.”

Jisung makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Well, yeah. I love the dude so much, but people around here make a hobby of turning him into a legend.”

That must be exhausting. Felix isn’t sure how he could ever live through something like that. Being known and revered and spun into a story all while he’s still alive to hear it. Chan is nothing more than a man of flesh and bone, who Felix has stood across from as Chan giggled when he accidentally knocked over a few of the chess pieces.

He was raw and human and making very bad jokes that had Felix laughing.

What could possibly be spinning around in that head of his to spook so many people?

“I think you should go for it.” Hyunjin says, holding Jisung close so that neither of them fall from their precarious position stacked together.

It's not like Felix needed the permission, but it feels good to get it regardless.

“Are you sure? I’m here to be your partner.”

It’s not official, but they both know it to be true. They both lost a partner and Felix was flown out here for a reason.

Hyunjin shrugs, jostling Jisung in his lap. “Sure, but what if you’re compatible with Chan? That’s so exciting, I think it’d be a good thing for everyone. Worst case scenario is that it doesn’t work, then you get to come back to me but with significantly less regrets than before.”

Felix smiles, incredibly grateful for Hyunjin’s understanding.

“Hyunjin’s right.” Jisung agrees easily, though he’s pouting as he says it. Slumped even further into Hyunjin’s hold, petulant as if he knows what the correct choice is but he isn’t particularly happy about it. Hyunjin squeezes him around the middle in comfort.

“Are you sure? You’re Chan’s co-pilot, I don’t want to boot you-”

“No, no. It’s-” Jisung takes a deep breath. “This thing with Chan has become a temporary solution to a bigger problem, I've known it for awhile. Besides, I...” He trails off, mouth pursing. “It’s in my best interest if I find something more stable than Chan. We both deserve better than turning each other’s brains to soup.”

The way he says it sounds like he's repeating someone else.

Hyunjin sends Felix a loaded look over Jisung’s shoulder. It’s hard to decipher with half of his face hidden away, but Felix gets the gist of it. “So, Minho talked to you.”

“He’s just worried.” Jisung defends.

“Rightfully.” Another squeeze, before he’s shifting Jisung to fully look at Felix. “Listen, I know I’m all for this but I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t at least try to warn you that trying to test for drift compatibility with Bang Chan is like trying to arm wrestle a fucking silver back gorilla.”

Jisung hums. “You’re going to get your shit rocked.”

“Yeah, so don’t feel too crushed when he wipes the floor with you. It’ll be ok, it happens to everyone.”

Well, that doesn’t exactly fill Felix with confidence.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Seeing the amount of candidates that show up for the co-pilot tryouts kind of blows Felix’s mind. He knew Chan was a big deal, but this feels kind of crazy.

“Half of these people aren't even compatible,” Hyunjin says, leaning in close to Felix. He’s dressed in comfortable yet stylish lounge wear and a terry cloth headband that’s keeping his hair out of his face. “They just came to watch the show.”

Felix shifts out of the way as more people arrive, filling the room up almost past capacity. All of the real candidates are grouped up off to the side, and Felix stands near the back.

“What about you?” He asks.

“I'm here for you.” Hyunjin gives Felix a big wink. “I'm not here to impress anyone, I'm just moral support.”

That makes Felix feel better, easing some of the nerves that have been building all afternoon.

Across the room, Felix catches sight of someone waving and when he stands on his tip toes he can see Changbin moving through the crowd. Moving towards the two of them. His entire face grows even brighter when he sees Hyunjin, bouncing forward with much more excitement. It’s stupidly cute.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin spits, ripping the headband off with force and tossing it somewhere to their left. It barely misses hitting someone in the face.

“Hey!” Changbin greets, mumbling a very polite excuse me to the person previously elbowing too close to Felix, taking their place. “Did you come to watch too?”

“I’m one of the candidates, Hyunjin is my moral support.” Felix answers for the both of them, since Hyunjin is too busy running his hands through his hair, trying valiantly to fix it.

It’s extremely cute, actually. How flustered Hyunjin is getting and how hard he’s trying to pretend that he’s not, and how Changbin is very clearly endeared by the entire display. Felix will definitely be asking about this entire dynamic after the try-outs are over, he’s so curious.

When they were younger, both of them in the Academy and trying to succeed, Hyunjin would lay in his bunk beneath Felix and he’d whisper about the sort of life he wanted one day. After, he’d say, when all the Kaiju stuff was over or when he got too old to fight anymore, he wanted to settle down. He wanted to find someone who could make him laugh even when the world was so bleak.

That was his biggest wish. Just someone that could make him smile without even trying.

Now, as Changbin leans close to compliment Hyunjin and a smile breaks out over both of their faces, one that Hyunjin tries and fails to hide, Felix wonders if his wish finally came true.

Felix catches his eye as Hyunjin turns away from Changbin, making a performance out of ignoring him, and Felix can’t help but send his friend a wide eyed look. Hyunjin shakes his head, barely noticeable, the smile he was trying to hide losing the battle and stretching across his face.

Changbin is still laying the compliments on thick, and he lights up when a traitorous giggle slips past Hyunjin’s lips.

It’s as he’s holding a silent conversation with Hyunjin, trying their best to communicate with nothing but their eyebrows, when a figure cuts through the crowd. Silent but making waves, the noise level of the room ticks down a few decibels once he’s noticed. He’s holding a clipboard, sleek faced watch sitting on his wrist, wearing grey sweatpants and a hoodie that looks a little too big on him.

“Who’s that?” Felix asks quietly, hyper aware of his voice carrying too much and not wanting to make a scene.

“Minho.” Hyunjin answers, uncaring about how loud he’s being. Clipboard man, Minho, flicks his eyes up and over as if he could hear his name through the din of the crowd. “LOCCENT officer, but also like- Chan’s handler.”

Changbin knocks his shoulder into Hyunjin’s arm. “C’mon, he isn’t the handler.”

“He might as well be.” Hyunjin seems to bloom with Changbin’s full attention on him, like a flower seeing the sun.

Felix isn’t really listening anymore, because right behind Minho is Bang Chan. Hair cut much shorter since Felix last saw him, wearing loose sweatpants and a black singlet that shows off his shoulders.

He rubs the back of his neck, says something to Minho that has the other rolling his eyes and pointing at the mat in the center of the room. With what seems to be a sigh, shoulders slumping before snapping into perfect posture, Chan steps forward. Front and center.

Minho faces the group of candidates, raising a brow as he glances at both Hyunjin and Changbin, but he doesn’t linger, eyes focusing back on his clipboard. Felix kind of likes the choice to go analog. It makes this moment feel like it has more weight behind it.

“Alright, first up; Tomiyasu Yu. Let’s go, kid.”

And it really is a kid that steps up, giving Minho a deep bow before rushing forward to join Chan. Felix would guess he’s no older than twenty, still young and eager. Yu bows to Chan as well, but Chan just laughs and knocks his knuckles into the boys chest.

“C’mon, enough with the formalities.”

They both fall into loose fighting stances, and while the mood is light and both Chan and the rookie are smiling, it’s over almost as quickly as it started.

The test is hand-to-hand combat, assessing the level of compatibility between the candidates before moving any that show promise to a simulation drift. It’s meant to test how well any of the candidates can work with Chan, to see if there’s potential for them to tap into the same wavelength and possibly predict each other’s moves.

In the Academy, training like this is used to forge stronger partnerships with other recruits. Here, it’s being used to try and find Chan a match. Felix feels the anticipation and adrenaline sizzle through his system.

Yu leaves with an embarrassed little laugh, but he seems to accept defeat easily, rejoining the crowd as he’s pulled in by his friends. A bunch of boys grab at him and cheer loudly as Yu begins to blush at the attention.

Felix watches as Minho continues to call names, as they step up one by one. After witnessing Chan take down the first candidate so easily, they all seem to shake with nerves as Chan stands there. Quiet and still, the only thing moving is the twitch of his fingers, tapping out an unfamiliar rhythm.

He watches as each candidate loses within only a few minutes, blink and you’ll miss the entire thing. Over so quickly that Chan has barely begun to break a sweat.

It’s intimidating.

The smile has faded from his face, settling into a resigned sort of frown. Something about it itches under Felix’s skin.

“Fine, fine.” Jisung says to absolutely no one as he practically swaggers into the center. “I’ll show you all how it’s meant to be done.”

There’s too much confidence in his voice for someone who proceeds to hit the mat with a resounding thud far too soon. Jisung is smiling big though, laughing, still proud with his performance. Chan helps him up, and for the first time in the last hour, the slightly tense, apologetic tilt to his mouth is gone. Replaced by a smile of his own.

“How long was that?” Jisung excitedly asks.

“Almost eight minutes.” Minho informs them, staring at his watch.

Whooping, Jisung does a silly little lap around the sparring mat. “Eight minutes!”

“Almost.” Minho corrects, and Felix can see the fondness leaking into his features as Minho’s eyes follow Jisung.

“Don’t sound so proud,” Chan says, knocking him in the shoulder. “That’s not even your record.”

“No, but it’s better than these rookies. Now, who’s next! You have to beat eight minutes.”

“Almost.” Minho sighs once again, turning back to the list. In the next moment he’s saying Felix’s name. Lee, Felix.

Everyone seems to start talking at once. It’s not loud or directed at him, which feels worse. It’s a quiet chatter that erupts, people turning to each other, questions rapid fire under their breath.

He hears certain phrases, like new guy and partner retired and almost drowned and Auckland ring out, but he tries his best to ignore them.

Chan stands in the middle of the room, fingers tapping that same unheard rhythm into the thin skin of his wrist, and he immediately turns to stare at Felix. It makes the breath catch in his throat, that unwavering look.

Soon he finds himself standing where all of the others have stood, just him and Chan and a room full of people watching them. Felix respects himself enough to admit that he’s a little nervous, and a whole lot worried. The plan is to drift with Hyunjin and help him pilot Maniac Electra, that’s the whole reason Felix was plucked from early retirement and flown across an ocean.

But right now he doesn’t care much at all about the plan. Right now, wiggling his bare toes against the mat as Chan cracks his neck, all Felix wants to do is prove that he has every right to be standing here. He worked hard to get where he is and he’s going to prove to everyone that he can last longer than any one else standing in this room.

Even if it proves to be for nothing because him and Chan aren’t compatible, at least he can say he tried and did his best.

“Go easy on me.” Felix jokes, shaking all of the nerves out of his arms.

Chan smiles, it’s smaller and softer than either of the smiles Felix has seen before, and he claims it greedily. That’s a smile just for Felix, no one else. “No promises.”

Without much warning Chan is striking out, and Felix immediately counters. Chan has power but Felix has speed, and he will always use that to his advantage. The problem is that Chan also has speed. He’s quick and agile and powerful, and that’s the most deadly combination.

There’s one thing that Felix noticed about the other candidates though, something that he refuses to fall for. They all flinched, and that’s when Chan would press the advantage. It was as if he was banking on it, waiting for the moment that their nerves would take over and cause them to slip. Flinching away as he pushed forward.

Felix will not flinch. He’s experienced much worse than a potential fist to his face.

He doesn’t have much time to think beyond his next move, trying to dial into some instinct in his thrumming blood to guide his next step, his next swing, his next block. When Chan moves, Felix makes sure he follows, back and forth.

There’s a moment where Chan slips up. It’s quick, barely a moment at all, but as Felix lunges forward he can feel it before it happens. Chan flinches.

Felix pounces.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, Chan is suddenly on the floor, underneath Felix, eyes wide and chest heaving. Felix moves with it, feeling the shift of his lungs as if he’s a boat lazily moving with the waves. It’s a hypnotizing rhythm, neither of them looking away from each other, Felix’s arm braced against Chan’s throat.

There’s something so mesmerizing about the structural composition of Chan’s face, the shape of everything so perfectly offsetting each other. The plush of his lips and the curve of his nose and the tilt of his eyes. Like this, flushed and sweaty, Felix thinks that Chan’s likeness should be painted by one of those historically well known artists that Hyunjin is always talking about.

Hung up somewhere to be admired for the rest of time.

Chan is flushed such a pretty shade of pink from all the exertion, and Felix wants to frame this moment.

They both scramble up once Minho’s voice cuts through, calling it in favor of Felix.

He didn’t last as long as Jisung, he knows it. The entire ordeal was over too quickly, but he got Chan on the ground. That has to count for something.

“Time?” Chan asks, breathless and still looking at Felix.

In his defense, Felix hasn’t looked away either. From his periphery Felix can just make out Minho and Jisung both staring down at Minho’s watch. A silent beat passes, almost long enough for Felix to repeat Chan’s question, but then Jisung is speaking.

“Eleven minutes.”

“And one second.” Minho adds.

Felix feels like the wind gets knocked out of him.

“What?”

Jisung takes Minho’s wrist in hand, showing off the sleek watch face. “Eleven minutes and one second. Congratulations, Felix. That beats my record.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Only three out of the entire crowd make it past what Jisung has been calling the preliminary round. He’s included in the little group even though everyone involved already knows that he’s as drift compatible with Chan as they come.

In a way he’s kind of like the gold standard.

The majority of those in attendance disperse once it’s announced that they’re moving locations, but even so a sizeable group follows after them. Curious and hungry, whispering among themselves. They’re all ushered deeper into the Shatterdome, to a big octagonal room with two neural cradles in the middle.

It’s the same sort of set up they use in the Academy; a simulation of the drift, a version of it that’s watered down. A ghost of the real thing. It leaves a weird sensation in the back of Jisung’s brain, like a string with no tether point. It gives him the heebie-jeebies every time he comes out of it.

It's a wonder that Chan has been hooked up to it so often and has come out the other side relatively normal.

Felix follows close behind, wide eyed and still a little in shock.

Jisung empathizes with him, he really does. Learning that you’re drift compatible with a walking legend of a man who is notorious for kicking people out of his head is not an easy pill to swallow.

He hopes Felix can keep up.

“I feel like a rat that’s being experimented on.” Chan says, just for Jisung’s ears. They’re huddled close as he helps Chan into one of the two helmets. Any onlookers might deem it an unnecessary gesture, but there’s a tremor to Chan’s hands, a shake in his voice.

It’s as familiar to Jisung as his own anxiety. Maybe that’s something they picked up from each other, trading between them in the drift. Jisung’s anxiety mixing with Chan’s penchant for perfection. Resulting in this muddied version of them both who shake and rattle apart at the prospect of failure.

It’s easier like this, for Jisung to channel all of his own nerves into some version of himself who can take care of Chan, even if it is for less than five minutes.

“I know, but on the bright side you’re the Marshal’s favorite rat.” Jisung smiles, pinching at Chan’s cheek and laughing as he scrunches his nose in response.

“Oh wow, that’s incredibly reassuring Jisung. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s probably the reason he’s coming by to watch.”

Chan hums, eyes flicking about the room and snagging on Felix before he’s returning his attention to Jisung. “He misses watching his favorite lab experiment squirm.”

“Hey. Let’s be optimistic about this, yeah?” Jisung tries to inject levity into his voice. “He probably just wants to see if you’ll finally find something long term.”

At least, that’s what Jisung is hoping the visit is for. But no one really knows what the Marshal has planned, and as much as he wants this to be a good visit, it could very well be some sort of ominous harbinger of something worse.

All Jisung can do is hope for the best.

Felix fiddles with his own helmet, staring at all of the wires and connectors. It can be a confusing machine to operate, Jisung has to admit. They messed around with something similar back in the Academy, but that was a few years ago with some version of the technology that was practically antique in comparison to what they’re working with now.

Before Jisung can speak up and offer Felix a hand, Chan is already reaching for the helmet. “Would you like help?” He asks, as if he didn't just need help with his own.

Felix blinks and moves closer, chin bobbing as he nods. “Oh! Sure, yeah.”

“They can be a little weird, here let me-”

Jisung leaves them to it, trying not to smile so wide as he makes his way over to some of his favorite people. They’re going to be insufferable as a pair, Jisung can just feel it.

“Hey Jeongin.” Jisung claps him on the shoulder, leaning in to watch the way Jeongin sets up the sim drift machine. There’s a lot of switches and dials. Minho supervises, fingernail tapping at screens wordlessly just for Jeongin to nudge a dial or press a button.

“How’re you feeling, Jisungie?” Minho asks, leaning his cheek into his fist.

Jisung rolls his lips over his teeth. “Good, better.”

“Headache?”

“Gone.” He stretches the truth.

Minho hums, and it makes Jisung feel as if he chose the wrong answer.

“So,” He stresses, swiftly changing the topic lest Minho keep staring and peel away his top most layers to discover the truth underneath. “Do you think this is going to work? Like, for real?” He asks, pitching his voice low.

Another hum. Less judgemental. “I hope so, for the sake of you both.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Jeongin shrugs, punching a button as the entire thing whirs to life.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Felix could definitely ask a J-tech to assist in the simple task of putting on a helmet, but Chan had offered and he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity for Chan to be so close. One hand is cupping the curve of Felix’s shoulder, and the other holds the helmet between them, voice low and private as he explains a bunch of details that Felix doesn’t particularly care about.

But he’ll listen to whatever Chan has to say as long as he keeps saying Felix’s name like that.

The entire room grows unnaturally quiet as the doors open and the Marshal steps in. Surveying the room with a narrowed, assessing gaze. It makes Felix stand up straighter.

“Oh, please, do continue. Don’t let me stop anyone.” He announces, smile splitting wide. There’s something a little plastic about the man that Felix can’t put his finger on.

It’s the same feeling that he got when he first touched down at the Shatterdome and received a very superficial welcome from the Marshal. As if Marshal Park would rather be somewhere else and he’s only ever half present.

It's uncanny and Felix doesn't like it all that much.

The machine is on, the subtle hum a backtrack to Felix's pounding heart. They're going through with this, and it seems the Marshal came to watch.

The helmet never actually makes it onto Felix’s head, which is a little disappointing after the care Chan took to explain what each wire and node did.

The entire process is interrupted by the doors hissing open once again, and Seungmin is standing there in his dress shirt and jeans and he's saying, “There’s activity at the breach, sir. Cat 3.”

There’s just enough time for everyone to draw in a breath before the alarms begin to blare.

“Rangers,” Marshal Park calls to the room, yet he faces Chan and Jisung. “It’s time to deploy.”

Jisung goes to open his mouth but Chan gets there first, rushing to take his own jelmet off. “Sir, you saw what happened the last time Ranger Han drifted with me. I strongly suggest that I drop alone for this one.”

Jisung looks a little betrayed, but Felix is focused more on the way Chan stands like a shield between him and the Marshal. Shoulders squared and fists tight at his sides.

Marshal Park turns all of his attention onto Chan. “Are you positive that you are fit for battle, Ranger? Correction, are you fit to be getting into that Jaeger solo? I did see what happened off the coast of Busan, you’re right, but do not blame it all on Ranger Han. You were there too, and I can’t say I trust you to pilot alone so soon after that,” here the Marshal pauses, breathes in steadily, takes one step closer to Chan, “disaster.”

Felix swears he can hear the click of Chan’s throat as he swallows, as he leans away from the Marshal infinitesimally. There’s something in his stomach that shakes at the sight of it all, the way Marshal Park is speaking and the way Chan won’t meet the Marshal’s eye.

“We have other pilots, you are not needed to drop solo on this mission Ranger Bang,” Marshal Park says, and he swears the sound of Chan grinding his teeth is audible to the whole room.

Without much thought, Felix finds himself stepping forward. Into Chan’s space, angling himself to face the Marshal. He will not flinch, he will not flinch.

“He doesn’t have to do it alone. We’re compatible, put me in with him.”

“You didn’t even complete the test drift.”

“Please, spare us your surface level concern, Marshal Park.” Minho joins the conversation, voice at odds with the tension leaking from the little triangle they’ve made of themselves. “There’s no time for a test drift.” He’s tapping at the sleek face of his watch, and Felix catches sight of a countdown of some sort. “Sink or swim, right?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Chan hesitates, stares at the cradle in a way that Felix doesn't have the words to describe. Like he's afraid of it, almost.

They have a job to do and Felix refuses to let himself fail. Scooting by Chan, he begins to climb into the rigging.

“Oh- I'm always right hemisphere.” Chan finally comes back to himself, a hand at Felix's wrist. It's a gentle touch, one that Felix easily slips away from.

“Same, I was the right before- well. I guess you’ll see soon enough.”

They stand, staring at each other. One of them will have to buckle first.

Felix stands his ground, refusing to move. “Maybe it'd be best if I take the right this time? Since I'm a little steadier right now?” He suggests, very blatantly eyeing the way Chan has been tapping that same rhythm against his thigh since they walked away from the Marshal.

Chan looks at the techs buzzing around them both. It's not an easy thing to agree to, Felix is aware of this. Chan has seniority, he should be the one taking the lead.

But there’s just something at the back of Felix's head telling him that this is worth asking for.

With a nod, Chan is finally moving away. “Yeah- ok, you're right. That makes sense. We don't really have time to hammer out the details right now.”

“Later, yeah? After we kick Kaiju ass we can play rock paper scissors for who leads.”

The smile he sends Chan seems to bleed some tension from his shoulders.

Soon they’re being clipped into the rigging, the HUD lighting up before them. Right below Felix’s feet, he swears he can feel the steady hum of the Jeager’s heart booting to life. It’s a familiar, comforting sound. Every Jaeger sounds a little different, but it’s similar enough to make Felix feel like he’s finally home again.

As he’s flexing his hands, Minho’s voice appears. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous.” Felix answers truthfully, which makes Minho laugh through the line. “Good though, ready for drop.”

“Chan?”

“It’ll be fine.” He reassures, though there’s still a nervous tension in his shoulders.

“Exactly,” Minho agrees, as if there isn’t room for any other answer. “As long as neither of you manage to fuck this up.”

“Thank you, Minho.”

“Always my pleasure. Securing conn-pod, prepare to drop.”

Felix takes a deep breath, steadying himself. This is the first time he's been in an active Jaeger since Auckland. He will not let his nerves get the best of him. This is exactly where he belongs.

“Twilight launch,” An automated voice rings out. “Bay 3.”

“Prepare for Neural Handshake.” Minho warns, and begins to count down.

“Are you ready for this?” Chan asks, flexing his fingers.

No, Felix wants to say, knee jerk and tinged with the anxiety that something will go wrong. But that would be a lie. He’s been ready since he flipped Chan on the mat, staring down at his flushed face and wishing more than anything to crawl under his skin.

“Are you?”

It gets a smile from Chan, and that feels a little like a victory.

“Two... one-”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The drift feels like an old friend, something that he could never forget as long as he lives. It's always been alive, moving and liquid around him, but with Chan there's something different about it.

It isn't like anything Felix has ever experienced before. It's everything and nothing all at once. Memories rushing around him like water, like the too strong waves out at sea. The tide threatening to grab him and pull him under.

Felix has no corporeal body here, in the drift. He's made up of emotions and thoughts and memories, something ephemeral. The suggestion of a person standing in a space that doesn't exist, yet is so loud.

He feels something touch his wrist. Or what would be his wrist if he had a body.

Fingers tightly clamping down, pulling him forward, urgency transferring through the bond. Immediately he loses his breath, panics as a wave crests.

“Neural Handshake is unstable.” He hears Minho, voice muffled and warbling. There's a note of resignation to his words. Like he was expecting this.

Somewhere Chan sighs. Sad, anxious.

They were all expecting this. For Felix to drown.

Don't feel too crushed when he wipes the floor with you. A flutter of memory, Hyunjin's face there and then gone.

“No.”

Everything stills.

The hand at his wrist hesitates. The wave sits suspended, shivering with emotion. It's looming over him and around him and Felix refuses to fail.

“No, we're going to do this the right way.”

Felix has no idea what the right way even is in this situation. But it can't be this; the undertow taking him away and chewing him up.

“What?”

Chan, that's Chan's voice. It floats around Felix like an intangible thing. Chan is here in this space too, incorporeal and drifting. Attached to Felix by a hand at his wrist, the touch almost familiar.

He wants to run, Felix can feel it. Like a line between them, the connection weak and filled with static. But it's there, the need to run and never stop.

Like a shark that can't stop moving or it'll suffocate.

It's a memory, but not one of Felix's.

He feels himself make a decision. It's like a string snapping taught, final and damning. He takes Chan's hand in this in-between consciousness. Palm to palm the only thing that feels real.

“You're not running off without me.”

The swirling chaos of memories and emotions threatening to overwhelm Felix calm at those words. It all settles at their feet. Sand and silt making a beach with water lapping at the shore.

“It's stabilizing.” Minho, voice a little clearer, hushed before he's pitching it louder. “Neural Handshake is stabilizing, sir.”

Felix opens his eyes, and he's back in the head of Twilight Ghost. He doesn’t remember ever closing them.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

There’s an ease to being with Felix that scares Chan.

It’s the same sensation as diving into a pool. Body cutting through the water cleanly, the knowledge of how to swim like second nature to him. Like if he woke up one day with all of his memories wiped from his mind, somewhere deep in the pathways of his brain he’d always know how to swim.

“Is it always like this?” Felix asks into the amorphous space of the drift.

There’s nothing of substance here, the drift is meant to be silence, yet he swears he can hear the rush of the ocean somewhere behind him.

Chan shakes his head. “No. It’s usually a lot more...”

“What?”

“Loud. Fast.” Normally there are memories rushing around him and through him, snagging at his consciousness like incredibly insistent branches.

Chan takes pride in the fact that his own mind is like a very well organized steel trap. But whenever he's plunged into the drift it's as if all of his obsessive planning gets upended without his consent.

It always sets his teeth on edge, just a little.

Something bumps against his foot, and he reaches down. Fingers wrap around cool glass, pulling it up and out of the sand. It’s in the shape of a bottle, a little piece of paper rolled up and stuck into the neck. When he touches it, there’s a flash of memory, something that he doesn’t need to experience again to know is one of his own.

“Message in a bottle.” Felix muses, and when Chan looks over he has his own memory cradled in his hands. A green glass bottle with an indistinct label. “That’s really clever.”

Chan is waiting for the other shoe to drop with a resounding crack. This isn’t how the drift works, it shouldn’t be like this. If he splits his focus he’s back inside of Twilight, stepping in time with Felix, rushing towards a giant in the distance.

It’s too easy. The ocean laps against the shore of this place they’ve created. Chan has never been allowed to have something this easy. He takes a deep breath, fills his lungs with the memory of salt air, and let’s it out in one long rush.

The second shoe takes the shape of Felix stretching his fingers out towards something too big for either of them to properly avoid.

“Wait, no, don’t touch that one-”

He’s not quick enough. Felix is grabbing at a memory before Chan can reach for it.

It feels as if the tide has finally come in, sweeping them both off of their feet and dragging them away.

He’s fourteen years old and he’s holding his little sister’s hand, tasked with watching her as his family makes their way down the boardwalk. It’s loud and colorful and filled with people, and he’s so happy. He thinks he could live in this moment forever, if he really wanted to.

It’s a beautiful day, his mom kept mentioning it as they all got ready that morning.

His sister slips from his hand, scampering across the boardwalk to press against the railing on the other side. Giggling as she stares into the ocean. Chan runs after her, calling her name, weaving between the crowd until he’s there next to her.

“You can’t run away like that.” He tells her, hand at her back. “You could’ve gotten lost, c’mon.”

She just giggles more, pointing her finger towards the surface of the water. “Chris look, bubbles!”

Felix leans over the railing with both children, watching as the bubbles multiply and grow.

“What is that?” Dread begins to spread through Felix’s veins at the sight.

Little fourteen year old Chan pauses in tugging at his sister’s arm, turning to blink up at Felix. It’s as if the entire memory sits suspended, everything stopping for a fraction of a moment. “I think you already know.”

The water explodes.

Felix feels like he’s drowning.

“He’s chasing the rabbit.” Minho’s voice filters through the speakers. “Felix, don’t focus on the memory-”

“It’s not me.” Felix answers, voice muffled as if from under the waves. “It’s Chan. He’s- stuck.”

He’s wet and terrified and his sister won’t stop crying, but that’s ok because he thinks she has enough tears for the both of them. She can have all of his tears as long as he can get them away from the water, alive. All they have to do is make it out of here alive, that’s Chan’s one job. So many people are screaming, he can feel their fear reverberating in his bones as the sun is blotted out and-

Felix is there suddenly, kneeling down in his piloting suit. Eyes so big as he cradles Chan’s face between his hands. “Chris. Hey, listen to me, this isn’t real, it’s just a memory. You have to come back.”

A Kaiju roars, the sound echoing and overlapping with itself.

“Please.”

Something in the spiraling weave of his DNA tells him that when Felix says please, it's near impossible to deny him.

With a gasp Chan surfaces, coming back to the colors of his Jaeger HUD.

“I’m here- I’m here, I’m present.”

“Fuck,” Minho breathes, the word turning to fuzz through the call. “If you scare me like that again I’m killing you myself.” He threatens, voice switching seamlessly into something much more cold and professional. “Neural Handshake stabilizing, again. Do not make me say it a third time.”

“I won’t, I’m sorry.”

In that amorphous space between them that only the drift can occupy, he feels more than hears Felix’s voice. His quiet reassurance, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. You’ll be ok, we’re going to be ok.

“Are you ready to kick some Kaiju ass?” Felix asks out loud, already smiling as they run forward.

With a deep, grounding breath, Chan remembers how to swim. “Are you?” He shoots back. It makes Felix laugh, and that feels like a victory.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

There’s always some way to watch the news in the Shatterdome. Televisions are set up in all of the public spaces, tucked away high up in corners to serve as background noise for the troopers while they go about their days. News about world politics is common to see but it’s mostly ignored. It’s the news about the reoccurring attacks on their shores that catch everyone’s attention.

Jeongin is always a little too busy to journey all the way to the main lounge or cafeteria to watch a battle. His job keeps him hovering around the hangar, waiting for the moment that he has to be in motion.

One of the senior mechanics must have had the same thought, since they set up their own small television that sits on a rolling workbench out of the way. There’s a small crack in the upper corner of the screen, causing a strip of colors to run down the right side, but it works. That’s all that’s really required of it.

Jeongin sits in one of the folding chairs set up near the television, a few scattered techs milling about as they too wait.

It’s common enough for Seungmin to keep him company during the weird static time after a Jaeger has launched but before they come back home, where everything below LOCCENT seems to sit on the surface of a bubble just waiting to be popped.

The other techs know him by name, though one of the older men exclusively calls him Jeongin’s boy. It’s cute and Seungmin smiles every time and Jeongin always gets a bright zip of possessive glee whenever he hears it.

Seungmin will pull up his own chair, close enough to hook their ankles together as he splits his attention between the television and his own tablet. Tapping away at whatever it is that he’s getting paid to know, equations and biometrics of the giant monsters they’re trying to win a war against.

Today his tablet hasn’t been pulled out, and he isn’t sitting in his chair. Instead pacing around and behind Jeongin, antsy and unable to stay still as the television shows Twilight Ghost leading the Kaiju away from the city.

“They’re going to be fine.” Seungmin says for the third time, as if he’s trying to convince them both. His hand lands on Jeongin’s shoulder, runs along the length of his back as he paces to the other side.

It’s almost impossible for Seungmin to sit still on a good day, there’s something hard wired in his brain that makes it so he has to get up and move. He’s done it for as long as Jeongin has known him, wandering around the back of conversations until he’s ready to include himself.

It gets even worse when he’s stressed out.

His fingers dig into Jeongin’s shoulder for a moment, then he’s letting go and stepping away. Jeongin can hear him take half of a lap around their little corner of the hangar before he’s back again, palm fitting into the same spot as before.

Jeongin takes his hand, smoothing his thumb over Seungmin’s knuckles before he's pressing a kiss to the side of his palm.

There's no use in telling Seungmin to not worry, so he doesn't even try. It would be a fruitless, cyclical discussion that would just end in Seungmin feeling irritated and doubly worried. Instead he offers himself as an anchor, a touchstone. A place for Seungmin to come back to when he needs solid ground to land.

The news footage continues to play out in front of them, helicopters getting sweeping aerial shots of the ensuing fight. Twilight Ghost is tall and imposing, but the Kaiju it’s locked in battle with is twice its weight.

Jeongin’s own nerves are vibrating under his skin but he trusts the people piloting that Jaeger. He's known Chan for years and though he hasn't known Felix nearly as long, he has a good feeling about him. This has to go well, because Jeongin doesn’t want to think about the alternative.

“This feels weird.” Jisung says, quiet enough to not interrupt the news anchor. His arms are crossed, feet planted.

Him and Hyunjin had joined the small viewing party only a few moments ago, after Twilight Ghost had stumbled on nothing and almost fell to its knees in an almost uncanny mirror of the last time Jisung was in that Jaeger. After a heart stopping moment of near silence, the Jaeger had gotten back to its feet and tore off towards their quarry. The sight was what had Seungmin standing up with a nervous shake to his legs.

“What does?” Hyunjin asks, leaning closer.

“Sitting here and watching Twilight. It's like an out of body experience.”

“Literally?” Jeongin asks, trying to inject some measure of levity into the situation.

Jisung smiles. It’s a small thing, but he tips his head in acquiescence.

“It’s kind of eerie how smoothly Twilight moves.” Seungmin comments, slipping from Jeongin’s hold to continue his pacing. His voice has lost the nervous edge, replaced with a curious lilt as the giant mech lands a solid punch to the Kaiju’s face.

“Are you saying Chan and I never piloted that smoothly?” Jisung narrows his eyes, mouth forming an amused pout.

Yes, and also no. Chan and Jisung worked so well together, until they didn’t. There was a reason they were known as some of the best pilots, but when something went wrong it was almost catastrophic. “You two were really good together-”

“The best.” Seungmin interjects, circling back to press both hands into Jeongin’s shoulders, leaning his weight into it. “But there was always something a little-”

“Stilted.” Jeongin nods, watching as Twilight Ghost continues to drive it’s fist into the Kaiju’s big head.

“Mm. But only if someone knew where to look.”

“As if Twilight was always trying to catch up with itself.”

Twilight Ghost piloted by Chan and Felix moves in sync with itself. Like there’s nothing holding it back, every action is followed through with an unflinching confidence that it will succeed.

Hyunjin dramatically shivers. “I hate when you two do that.”

“Do what?” Jeongin doesn’t look away from the screen.

“Finish each other’s sentences like that.” He explains, and Jeongin can feel the way Seungmin’s thumbs press into the top most notch in his spine. It’s an oddly comforting, familiar feeling. “I’ve been inside people’s heads before and I don’t even do that.”

“It’s a talent.” Seungmin deadpans as Twilight Ghost stands victorious over the dying body of a monster from the depths of the ocean. One more triumph under their belts, one step closer to winning this war.

Jisung sighs, dropping into the chair that Seungmin continues to hover around. “Man, I’m happy for them, but it still kind of hurts.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Perhaps it’s a bit of an impulsive decision made while coming down from the adrenaline high of being hooked up to a giant robot and killing an equally giant monster from the sea, but Chan decides to avoid Felix to the best of his ability for the next few days. It felt amazing to finally meet someone in the drift, but it was also incredibly unsettling.

Chan has never had that before.

For as long as he can remember he’s always been leaps and bounds ahead of his peers, to a worrying degree. The neuroscientists that read his charts would always press their lips together and admit that it was rather impressive, which was enough for the PPDC to run with. Chan was dubbed a once in a lifetime golden child at the age of eighteen and he’s never been able to shake the title.

An accident involving a training Jaeger proved that Chan could pilot solo and the PPDC haven’t looked back since. They even commissioned a Jaeger just for him, smaller and faster and designed specifically for a singular pilot. Named Phoenix Glory and made from gleaming red and gold metal so that everyone would know how incredibly special Chan was.

It felt like a suffocating weight bearing down on Chan’s shoulders most days. Bowing his spine and creaking his neck and stealing the air from his lungs. How does one live up to the legacy that’s been made of them without their permission?

It's the most demanding job he's ever had; it's the only job he's ever had to be fair but it's worth every inconvenience and every headache and every nosebleed.

The drift has always been a chaotic whirl of memories and emotions, a riptide of something bigger than himself that he’s never been able to fully control.

The whole reason Jisung was able to keep up with Chan in ways other people could only dream of is simply because Jisung is a genius in his own regard. Jisung is brilliant, Jisung is perfect. But the problem was with Chan. Because it didn’t matter how brilliant someone was, Chan’s consciousness continues to run ahead of the drift, working too fast for anyone to survive being connected to it.

And then there was Felix.

There’s something very special about him, something that Chan can't quite put into words. It’s as if he grabbed Chan by the back of the shirt and planted his feet and said stop. Stay. Wait. And Chan did.

That first moment, when Felix took his hand and told him that they were going to do it the right way, sticks with him for days after the drift. It was the first time he had felt like he could breathe.

It was the first time that the he felt present in the drift, instead of racing against a ticking clock.

Afterward, when they were being detached and techs were helping them out of their suits, Felix had mentioned having a headache, blaming it on not eating all day. But Chan swore he could hear hidden words between what was said. The paranoia started to take root, the idea that Chan was the reason for the headache and the slight dizziness.

What if he turned into another Jisung? Holding on by the tips of his fingers and barely surviving as Chan dragged him along. Head ringing and knees weak as he fought to reach the finish line.

Chan could never live with himself if that were the truth. It scares him, which is why he needs to distance himself.

It feels like an impossible task though, avoiding Felix. All he wants to do is seek Felix out, to occupy the same space. Touch his fingers to Felix’s wrist again and hear the bass of his laugh.

Except, and this is the thing that Chan was not counting on in the slightest, how do you properly stay away when the apparition of the boy you’re trying to ignore follows you everywhere. Haunting every corner of a room and the neurons firing in your brain because he now lives inside of you.

He first realizes that something had followed him out of the drift only two nights after. Something that doesn’t belong to him.

Chan had been successful in pulling away and dodging questions, making excuses to anyone who tried to talk about it. He even told Sana that he was feeling sick and that they’d have to reschedule their weekly session. Physically sick, not mentally, otherwise she would have ripped open the door herself to check on him.

He should have known something wasn’t quite right when sleep had welcomed him readily. That was never a good omen for him.

Everything is so loud, the inside of his conn-pod sparking, the emergency lights flashing red and ominous. An alarm blares, an automated voice repeating the same message over and over, words crackling. There's a body in the cradle next to him, limp and unresponsive. Hanging from the rigging like a puppet at rest.

His throat feels raw from screaming, the pain traveling like wild fire through his nervous system, frying him from the inside out-

Chan wakes with a desperate gasp, greeted by the quiet stillness of his bedroom. The sudden contrast leaves him reeling, stumbling from bed in a mad dash for his door. He has to get out of here, crashing into the hall because the dark of his room reminds him too viscerally of his Jaeger powering down with him still inside of it.

The hallway provides much needed light. Low for the time of night, trying to replicate a healthy circadian rhythm in a building with barely any windows. Chan basks in it as he breathes deeply, in and out, steadying himself.

It's eerie and wholly disconcerting how realistic that dream felt. That nightmare. As if he was really, truly there. Crying for help as the conn-pod begun filling with water.

Another deep breath and Chan is stretching. Trying to shake the dream from his mind. Yet as he rolls out his shoulders he swears he feels a pinching ache somewhere in his lower back. Following the curve of his spine and creeping up into the wing of his shoulder.

It felt like a real, true memory.

Chan squints up at the overhead lighting, blinking at the halogen bulbs as he kneads his knuckles into the nape of his neck.

“Fuck.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Felix can’t sleep.

It’s become familiar to him in the time since his accident. Nights spent uncomfortable and exhausted as his body twinges no matter the position he tries to lay in.

He watches the sun creep over the horizon, and for the first time in awhile it wasn’t his aching back that had kept him awake but the crawling sense that he simply could not shut off his brain. Sleep refused to come to him no matter how long he had laid in bed wishing to fall asleep.

Eventually he had gotten up and wandered the halls of the Shatterdome, restless and hoping that some exercise would tire him out.

Which is why he’s out here now, at the very edge of the deck, staring down at the sheer drop off into the glimmering ocean. Walking from the building all the way to the railing felt like it took him longer than doing a full lap around the Shatterdome itself, but Felix misses the sight of the ocean.

The nearest wave is more than a hundred feet out of his reach, but he can still smell the salt in the air and feel the sharp breeze against his cheeks. It's grounding in a way that he's needed for days.

“Not you too.” Seungmin mutters as he joins Felix, wrapped in a hoodie, one hand stuffed into the kangaroo pouch and the other holding a thermos.

He leans his head on Felix’s shoulder the moment he's close enough, and Felix melts into the touch. The speed in which they became friends should be studied.

“Hm?”

“Jeongin loves coming out here, especially when there isn’t much traffic. He says it’s quiet and reminds him of home.” Seungmin explains, voice quiet.

Felix can understand the sentiment. The color of the water is different, but it’s close enough that Felix can convince himself he’s back in Sydney.

“Whatchu got there?” He asks as he taps a knuckle against the thermos.

“Coffee.”

“Oh, gimme.” Felix plucks it easily from Seungmin’s grasp, finding no resistance to his request. Seungmin just laughs softly and tucks his now free hand away into his hoodie.

“You should've gotten your own coffee, you gremlin.”

“Mm, probably.” It's hot against Felix’s tongue, but it provides a much needed comfort.

“How are you feeling?” Seungmin asks, reaching for the coffee to take a sip before handing it right back.

Felix takes a moment to really think about it. His automatic reaction is to tell Seungmin that he’s fine, that everything is perfect. It’s a response that’s been hammered into him over the years, always taught to smile and deflect. Because life runs much more smoothly when no one has to hear about his true feelings. No one really wants to know if he’s in pain or if he’s having a bad day or if he’s so empty inside he can barely get out of bed.

But this is Seungmin, and even though he’s only known Seungmin for a few short months, he easily feels like the sort of person that Felix will have in his life forever. Seungmin is a permanent fixture in the same way Hyunjin is or Jisung is.

Admitting that his body still aches and that it feels like there’s a loose thread attached to his brain and leading off somewhere deeper in the Shatterdome whenever he focuses on it feels easy if it's Seungmin he's telling. The words are on his tongue, ready to shape themselves into a confession that he hasn’t been able to sleep since the drift.

Before he can even open his mouth, someone makes a noise over their shoulders. When Felix turns to look, Minho is standing there in a puffer jacket and fingerless gloves.

“What are you two doing all the way out here?” Minho squints at them both.

“Enjoying the sunrise,” Felix answers before Seungmin can snap a greeting. “What are you up to?”

Minho hums, staring at them for a moment before joining on Felix’s other side. “Taking a walk.”

“At five in the morning?” Seungmin asks.

“The world is just starting to wake up, Seungmin.” Minho explains. “Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Felix answers.

“Same.”

Another hum.

They stand like that, shoulder to shoulder to shoulder, in silence for a few minutes. Felix and Seungmin pass the coffee between them, and Minho keeps breathing out harshly through his nose just to watch the way it mists in the cold. “Like a dragon,” he says with a smile when he catches Felix watching him.

Felix makes sure to leave a little bit of coffee left for Seungmin. It was his to begin with and it only seems polite, even if he kind of wants to down the whole thing and smile in Seungmin’s face about it. He thinks Seungmin would find it funny, but the sun isn’t fully risen and it would just be mean to leave him with nothing so early in the morning.

Seungmin hums his appreciation as he finishes it off.

“How are you?” Minho asks into the quiet.

That seems to be the new company line. Everyone that sees him makes sure to greet Felix and then they immediately ask after his health.

“I’m doing better than I thought I would.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the full truth either. Felix can feel the way Chan stares at him whenever they’re in the same room, it’s like a physical weight even if Felix isn’t looking back. As if he’s afraid Felix will shatter into a million tiny pieces at the slightest provocation.

Sometimes he’s afraid that he will. One wrong move and the tide will take him, swallow him whole and drag him to the bottom. But then he remembers that drifting with Chan is easier than swimming, and he’s always been an exceptionally strong swimmer.

“No headaches? No dizziness?” Minho presses, and Felix can tell that he stops just short of placing the back of his hand to Felix's forehead. It’s endearing and incredibly sweet of Minho to worry so much.

“I've already been checked over by medical and I have a perfectly clean bill of health.” He reassures.

Except for the recent unexplainable insomnia, but that doesn't feel worth mentioning.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Drifting with Felix had been unlike anything Chan had ever experienced, and he thinks about it often in the few days after he chooses to pull away. They were in each other’s heads for a good few hours, drifting and fighting and celebrating. Basking in how stable the connection was, never once feeling rushed.

It was good. Too good. It made Chan itch, waiting for something to go wrong.

Felix now knows more about Chan than anyone in this building, even Jisung. In turn Chan knows the same of him, just from one drift.

He can remember Felix's childhood growing up in Sydney- can you believe it, Sydney? Chan was used to seeing transfers from all over, some even from Australia, but from the same town as him? Recognizing street names and shop fronts from someone else's eyes?

If Chan were the type of man to believe in fate and destiny and all of those whimsical notions of finding someone when you needed them most, then maybe this would mean more to him.

(He is, and it does. But right now he's preoccupied with other thoughts; namely how he's going to convince Felix they can never drift again because Chan is worried for his well being.)

“Stop biting your lips.” Seungmin chastises, voice dry as he steals food from Changbin’s tray.

Normally Changbin hates when people eat from his plate, guarding it with a glare. But it’s as easy as picking flowers from a field seeing as how he’s wholly distracted by Hyunjin sitting across the cafeteria with Jisung and Felix. At Seungmin’s voice, Changbin valiantly tries to refocus, a sort of whuh? noise leaving his mouth before he realizes he’s not the one being addressed and swiftly turns back to gaze at Hyunjin.

To be fair Chan had also been looking in the same direction, attention caught like a fish as Felix smiles and tilts his head at Jisung. Like an ache that sits at the base of his throat, Chan wishes that he were the one to make Felix smile like that.

“I'm not.” He replies, a little too late. He's not biting his lip, he hates the feeling.

Changbin glances over, ticks an eyebrow, goes right back to staring at the way Hyunjin laughs. “Just use chapstick if they're dry, dude.”

But Chan isn't a lip biter. There's never been a moment in his twenty nine years of life on this planet that he's ever bitten his lips. Swiping his tongue along his bottom lip, he suppresses a flinch at the raw sting it elicits. Shit.

Across the room Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at the corner of it, and Chan is entranced.

Maybe it's the stress finally catching up with him. Maybe it’s something deeper, some echo he refuses to acknowledge. Not after the dream he had, the memory. Let him live in ignorance for just a little longer, he’s not ready to look it in the face quite yet.

He's going to have to speak with Felix eventually, he knows this. But right now Chan elects to spend yet another day in his own head.

“So when are you going to do something about all of your staring?” Seungmin asks out of nowhere, forgoing their previous conversation entirely.

“What?” Chan and Changbin snap at once.

Chan whips his attention to Seungmin, a defense already on his tongue, but he realizes that Seungmin isn’t looking his way. He’s looking at Changbin, who has torn his gaze from the opposite table to give Seungmin a withering look.

It does nothing to intimidate Seungmin. He just shrugs, darting a glance to Chan, his eyes filled with a mischievous knowing. “You can't sit and yearn forever.”

“I'm not-” Changbin huffs. “Now isn't the right time.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “We're in the middle of a war, Changbin. It's always the right time.”

That settles like a weight in Chan's chest.

Tomorrow is a new day.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The cafeteria is loud around them, conversations layered on top of each other as Jisung pokes at his own tray of food.

Hyunjin has been staring over Jisung's shoulder for the last few minutes and if he were a betting man he'd put a good chunk of money down on Changbin being at the other end of his gaze. Felix, for his part, seems to be ignoring Chan’s very presence, instead talking about some video game that he misses playing.

Well, just because there seems to be a surprise cold front between them doesn’t change Jisung’s situation. No matter how long it takes them to get their shit sorted, Felix is still the best person to drift with Chan.

Which means Jisung is currently out of a job.

“So,” Jisung says loudly in a lull between Felix’s sentences. “What are we meant to do now?”

The question pulls Hyunjin’s attention back to their table. He blinks, as if he's remembering Jisung has been sat across from him this whole time. “About what?”

“About us.” He gestures between himself and Hyunjin. “I mean, no offense Felix, I’m genuinely so excited for you- but both of us no longer have partners. We don’t have anyone to drift with. What’s going to happen there?”

Felix taps his fingers against the table in a steady rhythm that Jisung swears he’s heard before. “Will you two go through the same thing as Chris? With the compatibility tests for new copilots?”

Jisung can’t remember the last time anyone actually called Chan by that name. It feels like he’s witnessing something intimate and personal and he doesn’t have permission to hear it so casually.

He shrugs. Every Shatterdome is different, he knows this, but the PPDC is the same at it’s core no matter the building. They’ll stick to protocol when they aren’t making concessions for the boy they decided to dip in gold without his permission.

“Maybe? Probably not the same, though. We aren’t as famous.”

Hyunjin hums in thought, eyes drifting over Jisung’s shoulder for a moment. “Speak for yourself, my face is on posters.”

“Hey, mine is too! I did a sponsorship with a bubble tea franchise back before- well. Everything.” Felix explains casually, gesturing to his body with his chopsticks. “I wonder if my face is still up anywhere.”

Jisung tries his best to get the conversation back on track. “I’m just saying, I know the analysts will love to get their hands on us.”

Now that Chan has his forever partner, Jisung knows that the analysts will be hard pressed for the same level of enrichment that Chan had provided for them. They’re going to be looking for something to fill their time now, and this seems like the perfect case.

Jisung and Hyunjin, losing their co-pilots to each other. Two new eligible bachelors for them to play match maker with. They’re going to have such a good time over the next few weeks comparing neurological charts and sim-drift scores.

“What if you two tried drifting? I’m sure the Marshal is desperate for more Jaegers on deck, he’d probably sign off.” Felix says, picking at his food like a bird.

It's such a simple solution that Jisung can't believe he didn't think of it first. That would fix both of their problems at the same time, it's genius.

“Oh, wait. Yes, I’m all for this.” He's already nodding along, turning to face Hyunjin and hoping he sees the same excitement mirrored on the face of his best friend.

Thankfully Hyunjin’s full attention has been wrenched away from the other table and is fully on Jisung. There’s a smile blooming across his face, eyes sparkling. Jisung doesn’t need to hear the words to know that Hyunjin is on board. “I don’t know, Ji. Can you handle being in my head?” He teases.

Jisung scoffs. “Honestly? I’ve been barely keeping my head above water for months, whatever you have going on in there will be aces.”

They head out soon after, excited to put their plan into motion. All they have to do is convince Minho to convince the Marshal to let them try drifting. It won’t be too hard, since Minho historically can not deny Jisung of anything, especially if he asks very nicely.

As they’re leaving they pass by the general periphery of the other guys. Hyunjin immediately makes a detour to lean into Changbin’s space in a very deliberate display of searching for attention that everyone notices except Changbin.

Felix doesn’t look at Chan once, even when Jisung is tearing Hyunjin away and they’re all promising to talk later.

Seungmin waves and tells Jisung, “Good luck,” in a very pointed tone, which Jisung is not looking forward to understanding.

“What is going on between you two?” Hyunjin hooks one arm into Felix’s and the other into Jisung’s, turning them into a little chain of monkeys. They’ve barely taken more than five steps away from the table, not caring at all if he's overheard.

“Nothing.” Felix answers, and no one has to ask to know what Hyunjin is talking about. Jisung leans in, raising an eyebrow to show that he does not believe Felix in the slightest. “Seriously! It’s nothing. Chan wanted his space, so I’m giving it to him.”

“Oh boy.” Hyunjin groans.

Jisung chances a look over their shoulders, and he swears he catches the way Chan flinches as Felix’s voice carries.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Contrary to popular belief, Jaeger pilots aren’t confined to the Shatterdome. Their job honestly never has any off hours seeing as how the thing they’re fighting against doesn’t operate on a normal nine to five, but they are allowed time away to have some semblance of normalcy.

It’s just that the entire time Hyunjin is buying himself a coffee, or window shopping, or even crossing the street, he’s like a live wire. Constantly on edge and waiting for the alarms to start blaring and for people to start yelling.

The last attack was barely a week ago, yet Hyunjin is waiting with baited breath. They’re safe for now, the odds of a second event happening so soon is astronomically low. But never zero. No matter how many times the scientists run their numbers, it’s never at a definitive zero.

Even Seungmin had shrugged and said they’ll have to wait and see.

While it doesn’t fill Hyunjin with any measure of confidence, he’ll be damned if fear keeps him cooped up in that giant metal building like a caged bird.

So he raises the volume of his phone to its highest setting and turns on every single alarm sound, he makes sure to wear shoes that are very stylish but ultimately are easy to run in, and he brings the best damn driver that he knows.

“So,” Changbin draws the word out, pausing to take a sip from his boba. “How did it go?”

Hyunjin makes sure to look both ways before they cross the street, and he even glances into the sky just to make sure there’s nothing to worry about. He doesn’t have to ask what Changbin means by the question, since it only happened just yesterday.

Hyunjin went to bed last night buzzing with the promise of possibilities. Drifting with Jisung had felt like something had finally clicked into place inside of Hyunjin.

There was an ease to it that had felt as smooth as breathing. Like floating down a river with his best friend, sure that the current would take them both exactly where they wanted to go. When he woke up, those feelings weren’t dampened in the slightest and the first person he tracked down to break the news to was Changbin.

Inviting Changbin out for celebratory shopping was an impulsive decision but he doesn’t regret it. Not when they now have matching bracelets and he gets to watch it sparkle in the sunlight every time Changbin gestures with his hands while talking.

He tries to hide his smile with a careless tilt of his head. “It went alright, no major problems.”

It has the desired effect. Changbin crowds closer, fingers hooking in Hyunjin’s jacket and giving him a little shake. “Just alright? C’mon Jinnie, you gotta give me more than that. Are you compatible? Are you partners now?”

The attention lights Hyunjin up like a Christmas tree. All twinkling multicolored lights refracting off of tinsel.

If someone were to ask Hyunjin what his favorite hobbies were, he’d have an extensive list. When he isn’t crawling into giant robots to save the world, he enjoys a myriad of things. Painting, mostly. But he also loves pottery and dancing and photography. He’s even taken up calligraphy recently. Anything that’s artistic and experimental and allows Hyunjin to get a little messy.

Though, his most favorite hobby, next to painting of course, is feigning indifference so that Changbin tries even harder to get a reaction out of him. It’s like some sort of drug to Hyunjin. The more uncaring he seems, the more passionate Changbin gets. It’s a stupid little game that Hyunjin loves playing, an addictive push and pull that never gets tiresome.

Hyunjin shrugs, deftly directing them towards a line of shops that he’s been eyeing since the last time he allowed himself outside to enjoy civilian life.

Changbin follows easily.

“Yes, to both of those things.” Hyunjin finally answers after a long enough pause.

The little dimple in Changbin’s cheek emerges as he smiles. “That’s amazing, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin hums, a giddy burst of happiness filling his chest.

“I'm happy for you, and for Jisung. This is going to be good for both of you!” Changbin sounds so impressed, going as far as opening the shop door with a dramatic flourish.

“You think so?” The insecurity begins to bubble up. He has yet another hobby, though this one is kept like a secret, folded away so no one can know as he worries that he’ll never measure up to those around him. It makes itself known as Changbin praises him. As if he’s undeserving of it suddenly.

He’s constantly trying to be better than what people see, trying to do more and be more than just the pretty face they stick on all of the Jaeger Program posters inviting people to join.

Changbin wraps a hand around Hyunjin’s elbow, stopping them both from walking any farther. There’s such a look of raw sincerity in his eyes that it almost takes Hyunjin’s breath away. “I know so, Hyunjin. You’re an exceptional pilot. One of the best.”

How pathetic that one well placed endearment from Changbin has all of Hyunjin's nerves settling.

“Thank you.” It scrapes out of him, genuine in a way he doesn’t usually let people witness.

Changbin just smiles, eyes catching in the fluorescent lights of the shop and making them glitter. “Of course. There’s no one quite like my Hyunjinnie.”

Hyunjin loves him with the force of one hundred thousand exploding neutron stars, a love so big it sometimes hurts to look it directly in the eye.

So he doesn't. Instead he takes Changbin’s hand and leads him deeper into the store, promising to buy him a new sweater simply because he can.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

After almost a week of acting as if Felix doesn't exist, suddenly Chan is circling back to slot himself into Felix's orbit.

He doesn't explain his disappearance, and Felix won't ask. Not yet, he's biding his time for the perfect moment when he can strike like a snake and Chan can't run away from the question. Not that Felix thinks that Chan would run away again, but he wants to be absolutely sure that he won’t.

They will have the much needed conversation of why Chan is so scared of having Felix in his head, but for now Felix will take what he’s given.

All good things come in time, and Felix is trying his very best to practice patience.

What matters is that Chan is beside him, walking through the cavernous halls of the Shatterdome as they wind their way towards the cafeteria.

“Listen, Felix, we should probably talk.”

“I’m learning that you do a lot of talking, Chris. You never really shut up, huh?” He makes sure to inject his voice with warmth and amusement, smile curling around the words so that Chan knows that he’s teasing him. Felix loves when Chan talks, he could listen to it or hours before ever getting tired of it.

Even then he’d probably only need a quick reprieve before he’s sitting back down and prompting Chan to explain something else in that excited tone he gets.

Chan laughs, big and bright and Felix thinks it’s possibly the best sound in human existence. He should always laugh like that, as if he’s unburdened. Still smiling, Chan reaches out to push at Felix’s head, touch gentle but enough that Felix moves with it. Letting his body stumble away and boomerang back into Chan’s side.

His hand lingers, alights on Felix’s shoulder once he’s close enough, reeling him back in.

The first drop of blood catches Felix off guard. He’s not even looking at Chan’s face when it happens, instead glancing down at the space between their shoes, kindling the little ember in his chest that Chan’s presence always fans.

It drips onto the toe of his boot.

Worried and a little confused, Felix looks up and his heart hurtles up into his throat. There’s a stream of blood coming out of Chan’s nose, and his eyes have gone glassy. He seems to sway where he stands, eyelashes fluttering.

Suddenly Chan is no longer present, not fully. It scares Felix.

“Chris?” Felix tries, reaching out to plant steady hands at Chan’s sides. Something isn’t right, and all of the warmth in Felix’s chest seems to evaporate as panic buzzes through his bones. “Are you ok?”

With a shivering breath, Chan touches his nose, unfocused gaze taking in how his fingers come away red. “Fuck.” He breathes, and just like that he starts falling.

Felix goes with him, trying to control the fall as best he can all while Chan is twice his body weight. Fuck, maybe triple. Chan mumbles another, softer fuck before his eyes roll back in his head.

“Shit- Help! Oh my god, help!”

Felix is sitting on a very uncomfortable bench down the hall from the infirmary, feeling fuzzy around the edges and staring at the blood stuck underneath the nails of his pointer and middle finger, when Changbin finds him. Sitting down, offering nothing but his quiet presence.

If Changbin is here, then that must be a good sign. It must mean that Chan is alive and breathing and he didn’t bleed out from all of his orifices or something worse. Still, he has to ask, because if he doesn’t then he might just go insane.

He chews at his bottom lip, fingers tapping an unfamiliar rhythm against his thigh without much input from his brain. “Is he going to be ok?”

Changbin hums, leaning back to tip his head against the wall. “Define ok.”

“Changbin.” Felix is ready to vibrate out of his skin with anxiety, he needs a definite answer.

“His brain hasn’t turned to soup yet.” Changbin says with that same casual tone, eyes to the ceiling.

That sentence evokes such a visceral image that Felix has to physically restrain himself from shuddering.

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” It snaps out of him, and if he were in any other mood he might just regret it.

Changbin sighs deep from in his chest, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment as he rubs a hand down his face. “My best friend in the entire world is slowly dying in front of my eyes, Felix.” His voice has lost the easy edge, filling with flint and sadness. “I’m taking this as seriously as I can. If I don’t make little jokes about it, I’m afraid that I might just burst into fucking tears and never stop.”

The admission breaks Felix’s heart.

Just knowing about Chan’s condition for the last few hours has wrung Felix dry of emotion, stuffing him full of worry and stress. He can’t imagine knowing about it for years, for as long as Changbin has known. Felix isn’t sure how he’d deal with something like that hanging over a friendship like a glinting blade.

The fear following at his heels that at any moment he could lose someone he cares about so deeply.

“I’m so sorry, Changbin.”

“It is what it is.” He says, voice thick with unshed tears. Another sigh, and then Changbin is shaking himself and sitting up properly. “He’s going to be ok, there’s no other option.”

“Why-” Felix trips over his own sentence. His tongue feels too heavy in his mouth, his brain sluggish. Exhaustion begins to settle into his bones, and he realizes he doesn’t know what time it is. But he has to ask. Felix is filled with questions and he needs them to finally be answered. “Why did that happen? I know it was a nosebleed, but-”

“Because shouldering the neural load on his own has been slow cooking his brain for years now.” Changbin explains.

Felix suspected as much but hearing it said aloud makes his stomach roll. “Can it be fixed?” He asks, trying to swallow back the nausea.

“I don’t think it can ever really be fixed, but from what I’ve heard it can be stabilized.”

“How?” Another question that has to be asked because Felix needs to know if all of his worrying and thinking has given him the true answer.

“With a consistent co-pilot.”

It’s the worst kind of confirmation. Felix presses both of his palms to his face, rocking forward to hang his head between his knees. “But he doesn’t want me.” The words are ripped out of him, scratching his voice and leaving a metaphorical mark all over his shoes. They’ve been fighting to get out for days now, to toss themselves into the light for someone else to look at.

Chan hasn’t wanted him ever since they stepped out of the Jaeger and he turned into a fucking ghost. It was the worst sort of rejection because it left a bunch of loose ends that Felix couldn’t do anything with. All we could do was wait to see if Chan explained himself.

Changbin places a hand between Felix’s shoulder blades, gently rubbing circles into the bow of his spine. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“It feels true!”

“I know, but Chan is selfless to a fault. Like, annoyingly so and mostly to his own detriment. I think, in some tangled up way that only makes sense to him, he was trying to protect you. Chan doesn’t want you to get hurt, Felix. He’d never forgive himself.”

“He’s hurting himself by refusing to drift with me! We’re compatible, I don’t understand the problem.”

Felix wants to cry out of frustration. There’s no need to protect him, he’s not some breakable china teacup that needs gentle gloved hands to touch it. He can hold his own and survive, and he wishes more than anything that Chan would see and understand that.

Changbin hums, palm warm against his back where he continues to rub comfortingly. “That might be the problem. Chan isn’t used to being that compatible, not anymore, so he doesn’t really know how to deal with someone in his head that doesn’t flinch away.”

Well, that’s just fucking stupid. When Chan is given a clean bill of health and finally discharged from medical, Felix is going to tell Chan exactly how stupid that is.

With a deep breath, Felix finally sits up, his frustration abated but not fully erased. Every bone in his body feels weary and heavy, and for the first night since drifting in Twilight, Felix can feel sleep pulling at him.

“I still think he’s being stupid.” Felix admits. “He’s not going to lose me.”

Changbin smiles, and it hits Felix that it’s the first time he’s smiled since sitting down. “Yeah well, you’ve been in that head of his. You know all of the ways it ticks and whirls, and you know why he’s so afraid of losing people.”

“It’s not his fault.”

Patting him on the knee, Changbin stands up. “I've been trying to tell him that for years.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

There is something so nauseating about watching Maniac Electra lose its arm.

Changbin can’t even do anything about it except sit and watch, since Jumphawks are always hovering above the battle. Never joining but always waiting to swoop in once the damage is dealt.

Changbin’s job is to be ready and waiting at the edge of his seat for the signal to dive in. Either to deploy boots on the ground in the middle of an attack or to coordinate to hook a Jaeger up and carry it away. There’s nothing he can do but chew at his lip while Hyunjin and Jisung wrestle with a Kaiju, waiting for back up to arrive but trying their best to slow the thing down.

They weren’t actually meant to engage, alone as they were and waiting for backup. This attack had taken everyone by surprise, occurring so recently after the latest Kaiju event, and Maniac was the quickest on the scene. They had gotten ahead of themselves, impatient and refusing to watch it rampage any further if they could do something about it.

The monster is grabbing at Maniac, clamping down right under the elbow and pulling until the forearm is being torn away in a mess of sparks and circuitry. The whole Jaeger stumbles, Jisung cursing into their open radio channel. The sound of Hyunjin whining in pain has Changbin dizzy, clenching his teeth so hard he’s afraid they might crack.

In the next moment Maniac’s remaining arm is shoving its fist down the things throat, brute forcing its way inside while the Kaiju scrabbles and digs its claws into the metal chest. With a twist of its arm, something vital is being ripped away because the creature thrashes more frantically before stilling with a sickening, wet pop.

Changbin is steering closer before the order has even come down the line, switching channels with fingers that are much steadier than he feels. Snapping orders to get Maniac rigged up now, it’s time to bring her home.

There's a pit in his stomach the entire way back to the Shatterdome. He can hear Hyunjin and Jisung talking, he knows they’re alive, but he can’t see them. Jisung laughs at something Minho says, but Changbin strains his ears to hear the pained huff of breath from Hyunjin.

He feels unbalanced until they’re finally on the ground again, until he can launch himself from the hawk and make his way towards Hyunjin. There’s medics and technicians rushing around, opening up the hatch and streaming in. Either to get a look at the pilots or the circulatory system of the Jaeger itself.

The moment Changbin sees Hyunjin, stepping out from the hatch with a medic hot on his heels, he practically throws himself forward. Snagging him around the waist and crushing him close, lungs finally loosening at the sight of him alive and breathing.

“Ouch, Binnie. Careful.”

Changbin jumps away like he’s been burned. “Sorry, holy shit, I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin just smiles, holding his left arm gingerly. “It’s ok, I’m ok.”

“Ok is relative.” The paramedic mumbles, meeting Changbin’s eye. “He had a dislocated shoulder.”

“But I’m fine now, thanks to Changbin getting me home so quickly.”

Changbin selfishly basks in the way Hyunjin is looking at him, reaching his good arm out like he misses holding onto Changbin. He leans into it, never strong enough to deny Hyunjin anything, least of all this. As easy as breathing he’s fitting into Hyunjin’s side.

The paramedic rolls their eyes. “Just make sure he gets down to the infirmary, alright?”

Changbin makes sure to give them a salute to show that he is very serious about Hyunjin’s health.

Jisung lops up to them, sweaty but beaming a proud smile. “Hey, where’s my love? Aren’t you glad I’m alive?”

Before either of them can respond Minho appears like an apparition summoned out of thin air, practically tackling Jisung. Grabbing him by the ear, dragging him back towards one of the medics and asking, “Did you make sure he was ok? Thoroughly? Do you mind doing it again?”

Hyunjin, still with that little lilt in his voice, leans into Changbin and says, “Careful what you ask for, huh? I’m glad you don’t ‘love’ me like that, or else my ear would be sore.”

Changbin kind of wants to die. I love you in a hundred thousand possible ways and ‘like that’ would only be one of them.

“But I do love you, Hyunjinnie!”

It’s overly sweet, Changbin pitching his voice so that it can twist into some semblance of a joke, instead of what it really is. A very truthful confession.

It makes Hyunjin giggle all the same, leaning even heavier into Changbin’s arms. “Of course you do.”

The hangar continues to bustle around them, like the steady ebb and flow of a very familiar river, and Changbin feels unmoored suddenly.

He knows that they have a destination in mind, that Hyunjin needs to make it down to medical so that his shoulder can be properly taken care of. But he doesn’t want to move and disrupt the little bubble they've made for themselves here.

The thought of the infirmary conjures up the memory of Chan, laid out in a bed with blood staining his shirt as Changbin worried that this would finally be it. The doctor would finally look at him and shake their head and apologize because Chan's brain had finally liquefied itself after years of surviving.

There are so many unknown variables in their line of work, a constant stream of worrying that the last time you ever spoke to someone would be the last time.

Seungmin was right. They're at war and nothing is promised.

Chan bleeding out, Seungmin asking how long he can yearn for. The idea that Hyunjin could have died today and he'd never know exactly how deep Changbin's wanting goes.

“I'm being serious, Hyunjin. Loving you is one of the most serious things in my life.”

Before Changbin can act, Hyunjin is swooping down and kissing him in the middle of the hangar.

This is what coming home feels like.

“I love you so much it makes me feel genuinely crazy.” Hyunjin admits, and Changbin has to kiss him again.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Felix stares up at Phoenix Glory, marveling at the sight of it. There’s something legendary about being in the presence of one of the only Jaeger’s specifically commissioned for a solo pilot.

It’s a hike to make it up to the head, and even more of an ordeal to climb his way in with only it’s auxiliary power working. His boots hit the steel flooring, Felix wincing at the sound.

Chan sits curled into himself, back facing the entrance, and he sighs when he hears Felix.

“I really appreciate your concern Bin, but I just need some time alone.”

Felix clicks his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not Changbin.”

Chan whips around at the first word from Felix’s mouth, twisting his body so quickly he has to slam his hand to the floor to balance himself. There’s a tense desperation to the look on Chan’s face as he looks up at Felix, and he knows before Chan’s lips form the word that he’s about to whisper Felix’s name.

“Felix.”

Said as if Felix is a ghost that he wasn’t expecting to see haunt this very specific part of the Shatterdome. As if he thought he was safe here, locked away in his tower, but his shoulders are dropping and relief is flooding into the taut line of his mouth as Felix steps closer.

The inside of Phoenix Glory’s conn-pod is half the size of anything Felix has been in before, with only one singular cradle set up in the middle. It’s kind of fascinating.

There will be time to soak it all in later, once he feels less like he’s walking some invisible tightrope just to reach Chan on the other side.

“Is this seat taken?” Felix asks, pointing at the spot right in front of Chan once he gets close enough.

He shakes his head, still looking a little shell shocked. Frightened and hopeful in equal measure. Felix sits down as gracefully as he can in the small space. Their boots touch, just the rubber of their toes but Felix presses into it. Chasing the sensation that Chan is here and real and he hasn’t run away to somewhere unreachable.

It takes a moment for either of them to speak, but then Chan is hanging his head once again, a harsh breath escaping through his teeth.

“I’m sorry for bleeding all over you.” He says quietly.

It makes Felix roll his eyes, the idea that something like that would need an apology. “Literally or metaphorically?” He asks, and it makes Chan laugh.

“Both, definitely.”

“You didn’t really have a choice.”

Neither of them say anything for awhile, the quiet ambient sounds of a sleeping Jaeger filling the silence. It’s the faintest hum of electricity, present but not active. Eventually one of them will have to crack first, they’ll have to talk about why Chan is so afraid to accept Felix’s support.

Felix knows he’ll have to be the one to drag the big issues out into the light with the way Chan is curled into himself, eyes downcast. He’s like a dog that’s punishing itself.

To talk about the way Chan refuses to accept Felix’s support, he first has to address the root of it. Dig his fingers down deep and make them both stare at the tendrils of the past that cling to every choice made in the present.

“Listen, Chris.” He starts, shifting his leg to knock their boots together. Chan mirrors the movement almost immediately, like an echo. “What happened at the Academy when you were younger-”

“Felix.” He warns, finally snapping his gaze up to meet Felix’s. There he is, he’s been hiding this whole time and Felix finally gets to see him.

Felix shakes his head. “No, listen. I was inside your head, remember?” He moves closer, folding his leg underneath himself and pressing his knee into Chan’s calf. “It wasn’t your fault, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done. Same with the boardwalk. You just keep losing people and blaming yourself. Chris, you couldn’t control any of that. You’re not some failure because a building split in half and you just happened to be on the side left standing.”

Chan makes a noise like he’s been punched in the solar plexus.

“I could have done something.” There’s a desperate note to his voice, eyes shaking as he stares at Felix.

“No, you couldn’t have. It was out of your control, and that’s ok.” Felix scoots even closer. “It wasn’t your job to save everyone. It was your job to survive and you succeeded.”

Sniffling, Chan turns his head away. Tilts it upwards to try and stave off the tears that Felix can clearly see glimmering in the lighting of the conn-pod. There’s an ache in Felix’s chest at the sight.

With a big breath, Chan is looking back towards him, front teeth digging into the corner of his mouth. “Since we're talking about things that we couldn't control.”

“No, this isn't about me-”

“It's about both of us, Felix, and you did all you could in Auckland.”

They both feel the phantom pain of a spinal clamp seared into their body.

Felix still dreams about it. Wakes up gasping and shaking and his body burning with the memory of a Kaiju, much bigger than their Jaeger, sinking it’s claws into their back and tearing out their metal spine. Left discarded and drowning in the ocean.

“I could have done more.” It feels like a poor mimic of what Chan said only a moment ago, but it feels true even as Felix says it. He’s not sure what he could have done, but he feels like it wasn’t enough.

“Don’t.” Chan reprimands, voice soft but digging itself into Felix’s brain. “If I’m not allowed to, neither are you.”

Felix takes a deep breath, holding it in his chest for long enough that he only let’s it rush out when he feels Chan squeeze at his ankle.

He can feel himself beginning to spiral, the signs are familiar and well worn and he despises how easily he can recognize it weighing him down. Felix didn’t come up here for them both to sit mired in their own guilt and self pity, a tragic ouroboros of shouldering the blame.

Another deep breath, and this time he focuses on the way Chan touches him. It’s nothing more than a palm pressed to his boot, over his ankle, but he can still feel the faint pressure through the leather. It’s grounding and he holds on to it.

Suddenly Felix wants more. A simple touch won’t suffice, he needs to be closer.

Crawling forward, Felix settles into Chan’s lap, ignoring his gasp of surprise to cradle his face. Thumbs swiping gently at the meat of his cheeks. They can be something better for each other, he wants it to be true more than anything.

“I forgive you.” Felix tells him. “All of the things that you’re carrying around inside of you, letting eat away at you. I forgive it all.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Chan whispers, eyes big.

“It can be- it is. Because you drag your past around like it’s a fucking anchor chained to your waist, allowing it to drown you. Let me take that weight, let me share it. If you won’t forgive yourself, let me do it.”

Hands at Felix’s waist, fingers digging into the sliver of skin above his waistband. Chan takes a deep breath, shivering through him, and Felix leans into it. Tips forward until their foreheads are pressed together. “Ok,” the word is a breath against Felix’s mouth. “Ok. Then I forgive you too. Your pain is my pain, yeah? We share it, all of it.”

Felix can accept those terms.

Knowing that Chan will not move first, Felix takes the leap. Crashing their mouths together, pressing as close as he physically can. Swallowing down the relieved whimper that slips from behind Chan’s teeth.

This is where he belongs, right here in Chan’s lap with his fingers creeping under Felix’s tank top and his head tipped back. Allowing Felix to take as much as he wants.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The day was long and monotonous and Minho was glad to finally see the end of it.

Both Felix and Chan had completely disappeared at some point in the day, and Minho was hoping that was a good omen. Hopefully if they both knew what was best, they’d fix the rift between them so that every one could rest easy again.

Especially Jisung, who’s already curled up in Minho’s bed when he gets home.

Minho isn’t required to live on site, not like some of the other staff and most of the pilots, so he’s been renting an apartment only a quick drive from the Shatterdome.

The apartment isn't all that big, consisting of one big main room, a bathroom, and a bedroom with absolutely no privacy, but it's in a great location and Minho doesn’t have to worry about rent since the PPDC takes care of it. It’s kind of the perfect set up. Minho doesn’t need too much room, just enough space for him and his cat and occasionally Jisung.

Minho immediately recognizes Jisung’s boots when he goes to put his own shoes away, big and black and military issued. The sight makes him smile, and one day in the future he wants to come home to Jisung’s shoes in their cupboard every single day.

Jisung is currently acting as the big spoon to Minho’s cat, the both of them very clearly asleep. It’s so sweet it almost makes Minho walk over and squeeze them both out of sheer fondness.

The meager groceries he picked up on his way home get placed on the counter that separates his living space from his kitchen, and the sound of the bag has Bunny waking up. She makes a little noise as she stretches before hoping from Minho’s bed and joining him by the sink.

“Hi girl, have you been keeping Jisungie company? Ah, this is why you get paid extra.” Minho makes sure to reward her for her job well done with treats.

Jisung makes a noise as he wakes up, stretching much like Bunny did. It takes him a moment for his attention to focus, and by the time he’s sitting up, Minho has already put the groceries away.

“Hey bug, have a good nap?” He asks, tone gentle and sweet. It’s impossible for him to sound any other way with Jisung.

Jisung nods, rubbing his sleeve over his face. “Sorry for not telling you I’d be here.”

“Did you walk?”

He nods, laying back down and rolling onto his side to face Minho. “You don’t live that far and it’s nice out.”

“Mm.” Minho can’t argue with that, but he wishes that Jisung would have waited to drive back with Minho. He could have played his favorite music and bought him a snack. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Jisung hugs a pillow to his chest. Tired is better than dizzy or nauseous or in pain. Tired is the best thing Jisung can be right now, probably the best he’s been in months.

“How’s that head of yours doing?” Minho continues to interrogate, knowing that Jisung can't hide how he's feeling forever. He walks over to the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as he squints down at Jisung.

“My head?” Jisung rolls onto his back, big eyes blinking up at Minho. “It’s good, it’s fine.”

“Still on your shoulders?”

Ever since he's begun drifting with Hyunjin he seems more present, more whole. Like the little threads that make up the tapestry of his consciousness have stopped fraying every time he steps out of a Jaeger. Minho is relieved.

“Technically,” Jisung corrects, hands reaching out to grab at Minho’s shirt and trying to pull him closer. “My head is on my neck, which is connected to my shoulders.”

“Mm, right. The neck bone is connected to the hip bone.”

“I-” Jisung stops, visibly thinks about the statement. “Are you talking about the spine?”

“Mm.” Minho gets into bed, making sure to spread out as he sits down, back to his headboard. Once he's settled he harshly pats at his thighs. “C'mon, come here.”

Jisung immediately crawls into his lap, curling up and pressing his mouth against Minho's throat.

“How are you feeling? Really?” He asks again, just to make sure. Minho cups the back of Jisung’s head, wishing that he could physically feel the health of Jisung’s brain from touch alone.

“I really am good- I'm better.”

Good, that's exactly what Minho wants to hear.

Jisung sighs, hot breath against Minho's neck, then he's shifting around to better lay his cheek directly against Minho's collarbone. “I am going to miss it though.” He says quietly, as if he's afraid of Minho hearing him.

“Miss what?”

“Drifting with Chan.”

“Jisung, it was actively hurting you-”

“I know.” He sighs again, burrowing closer to Minho’s chest. Like if he tries hard enough he can slip between Minho’s ribs and live there. “But when it was good, it was so good Minho. You don’t get it, I don’t know if you ever really will. It used to be good, and stable. We could do anything, we were indestructible.”

Minho holds him closer, arms wrapped so tightly around Jisung. This is not what he wants to hear. He doesn’t want Jisung to yearn for something that was slowly unmaking him from the inside out.

“It’s almost like I could feel something in Chan knocking loose with each drift.” Jisung continues, voice growing stronger with each sentence. “Like he was unraveling and I couldn’t grab at the threads quick enough. We were the best, Minho, and we lost it.”

There’s so much pain in his voice that it hurts Minho to even listen to him.

“I know.” Minho presses a kiss to Jisung’s forehead, right above his eyebrow.

Minho remembers when he first met Jisung, still green around the gills and newly paired with Bang Chan, rising prodigy. He was excitable and ambitious, talking about himself and Chan as if they were both immortal, and Minho was fond of him since the moment he introduced himself. Meeting Jisung was fate, and Minho will stand by that for as long as he breathes.

Three months later, during the annual summer festival held in Nagasaki, he had kissed Jisung for the first time. Standing on a large stone bridge stretching over the Nakashima river, lanterns hung up and making Jisung’s eyes sparkle, and Minho’s heart thundering in his throat. It was a moment that Minho wanted to bottle up and keep forever.

Jisung sighs again from his place against Minho’s chest. “Everyone always blames Chan, but it wasn’t ever his fault. He was running from something bigger than the both of us and I just wasn’t built to keep up. It’s no one’s fault.”

“He was hurting you.” Minho feels like he has to remind him, because he remembers the nights that Jisung couldn’t sleep, when his migraines were so bad that even the smallest spark of light brought him to tears.

“He didn’t mean to, and you know that.” Jisung defends, much more gently than Minho feels.

Minho does know that, but it’s the one thing that he can never fully forgive. No matter how much he loves Chan, the concept of ever putting Jisung knowingly in harms way sticks like a bone in his throat.

“Chan cared more about drifting than he did your safety.” He says, voice tense. It wasn't like Chan to choose a Jaeger over Jisung but it happened consistently, over and over. It didn’t seem right.

Another sigh, this one clipped with an aggravated little undertone. “He cared more about me.” Jisung corrects quietly. “The first time I was ejected from the drift and I had a migraine that lasted for days, Chan put himself on his knees in my room. Promising that we’d stop, that he’d find a better solution. The doctors said it was a miracle I didn’t experience a stroke or worse and Chan cried.”

Every word sinks like a stone in Minho’s chest. He wishes he could say something to fix this even though it’s in the past. He never wants Jisung to hurt or suffer even though he knows it’s inevitable. The best thing he can do is listen as Jisung talks but it’s hard when his gut is telling him that he should get up and do something.

“I didn't know that.”

Jisung’s finger traces a nonsensical pattern against Minho’s stomach. “It happened before we were dating. Nothing like that had ever happened before, but Chan was adamant that it wouldn’t again.” Minho focuses on the sensation of Jisung’s fingertip dragging against the fabric of his shirt to keep himself grounded. “Can you guess why we kept getting into that Jaeger together?”

It’s an easy answer because Minho knows Jisung too well. There was only one way it could ever end.

“Because you begged for it.”

Jisung smiles up at him, pleased and glowing. “Bingo! I wanted it more than anything in the world and it took me so long but I convinced Chan that I'd be ok. This was our dream come true, and I knew the risks. The doctors explained what an unstable neural load would do in the long run, but what was the alternative? Finding someone compatible while Chan was forced to do nothing but pilot Phoenix alone? I couldn't leave him like that.”

“You never told me any of this.” Minho should have known, he should have found out in some way if only to help Jisung sooner.

“Because it didn't matter.” Jisung says, closing his eyes as he gets comfortable in Minho’s arms. “It was my choice and I never regretted it.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Felix’s lips taste like candyfloss in his dream. That’s the first thing he’s aware of when he wakes up.

The next is that Chan feels well rested. No headache, no pains in his joints. No crippling waves of anxiety convincing him that one wrong move could get his co-pilot killed or worse, because drifting with him is the equivalent of shotgunning jet fuel.

No fear, no cold sweat, no weightless feeling before his stomach plummets into nausea. Just the lingering taste of Felix and the ghost touch of his small but firm hands gripping Chan's hips so hard they'd bruised.

It was just a dream, nothing more than tendrils of memory.

Yet he feels more alive than he has in months, perhaps even years.

Like some invisible string tugging at a spot between his eyes, Chan is up and moving towards his door before he ever hears the tentative knock against the steel. When he opens it, Felix is staring back at him, wearing loose pajamas and chewing at his bottom lip.

“Can I come in?” He asks, though he’s stepping into the room as if he already knew Chan would say yes.

Chan has always kept his room tidy, where everything has it’s place and every place has it’s thing. Changbin has called it spartan on several occasions but Chan ignores him. But now, seeing Felix standing the middle of his room like a single bright spot in the midst of everything else, Chan wonders what he sees when he’s looking around with a curious eye.

Does he see the way the sheet corners are folded perfectly, or how every pair of shoes he owns is lined up neatly next to the door in order of their use? Is he wondering about the few trinkets Chan owns and how they’re lined up on their shelves? Chan doesn’t think Felix is the judgmental type, but he can’t help but worry.

Felix is wearing butter yellow sleep shorts and a shirt that’s much too big on him with a graphic splashed on the front. It looks ridiculously familiar. He’s like a little pastel sun come to life to brighten up Chan’s otherwise sparse room.

Taking a deep breath, Felix sits down heavily at the edge of Chan’s bed without waiting for an invitation. To be fair, Chan is sure that they’re both aware of how easily he’d agree if asked.

“I had a dream about you.” He confesses, digging his fingers into the duvet. “Well, not about you, it felt more like a memory. There was rubble everywhere and I- it felt like an echo. That was the academy, wasn’t it? That was your memory. I remember seeing something about it in the drift but it felt like I was there-”

Felix is rambling, words tripping over himself in frustration as he looks up at Chan with big eyes glimmering in the low lighting of the room. Chan nods, cutting him off and sitting next to Felix, close enough that they aren’t quite touching but they could be if either of them moved. If Chan wasn’t such a coward and bridged the distance.

“The same thing happened to me the other week.” Chan explains, keeping his voice low and steady. “I dreamed about being inside of a flooding Jaeger, scared and in pain.”

Felix automatically touches his own back, eyes wide.

“I think we ghost drifted.” Chan finally puts words to the theory he’s been nursing ever since the first dream memory. It’s the only thing that makes sense, really.

Felix obviously doesn’t agree, because he makes a noise and shakes his head before Chan is even done speaking. “That’s impossible, ghost drifting doesn’t really happen.”

“There’s been extensive research done, it does happen.”

“Yeah but only for pilots who have been drifting together for awhile. Like you and Jisung.”

Chan has read the research and all of the articles and every mention of ghost drifting he can get his hands on. Yes, it's true, it's most common in long term partners and he's sure that him and Jisung have parts of each other that they’ve taken from the drift.

But it's subtle, it's small. Sharing the same vein of anxiety or both craving the same snack.

What's been happening with Felix feels different. It's stronger, it’s seared itself into their bones in matching patterns.

“Why do we keep dreaming about each other?” Chan asks, starting at the most obvious. “Why did I know that you’d be at my door before you knocked? Why do I chew at my lips like you do? Why are you tapping your fingers against your thigh right now when that’s one of my nervous ticks?”

Felix stops once he’s called out, fingers stilling and moving to curl around his knee. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, shoulders jittering a shrug.

Why do they live in each others bodies, tucked away into the folds of each others brains?

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about. Before I started bleeding out all over your shoes.” He tries his best to break the tension with a joke, but it falls incredibly flat.

“That's not funny.” Felix snaps.

“Right, sorry.”

They both go quiet, the air tense and heavy. Felix breathes out and presses his palms to his cheeks. Without thinking, Chan leans into him, shoulder to shoulder. He knows without knowing that Felix was aching for some form of contact but didn’t know how to ask, and just the small touch of their arms has Felix relaxing.

“We ghost drifted on our first try.” Felix tips his face up towards the ceiling, and Chan watches the line of his throat. “Aren’t we special.”

“I’m sorry.” Chan says automatically, because it feels like the sort of thing he could have fixed if he was just paying attention. He poured too much of himself into the drift, Felix holding his face and staring into his eyes and pulling him back from the edge of a memory that had teeth.

Felix shakes his head, hair soft and still a little pink as it brushes against Chan’s bare shoulder. “It’s not like we could control it, don’t be sorry. Honestly, I don’t even really care about that.”

“You don’t?”

“I mean, I’m glad I can put a name to it. But I really just want to know why you disappeared.”

Oh. So that’s the conversation they’re having now. Chan should have suspected that this would come up sooner rather than later. He looks away from Felix, focusing instead on the state of his desk in the corner. It’s the one space in his entire room that has a touch of chaos to it, notebooks stacked and pencils loose.

“After we drifted,” Felix continues undeterred. “You ignored me, and I can’t figure out why.”

Chan rubs his fingertips into his eye sockets. He can almost hear Sana telling him that the truth is hard but necessary to building lasting relationships. “I panicked.” He admits.

“Over what?”

“I convinced myself that you weren’t safe with me. It was only a matter of time before you ended up like Jisung, and I wouldn’t be able to protect you.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.” Felix huffs, rightfully aggravated. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, Chris.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just worry, constantly.”

Felix sighs, his little hand curling around Chan's wrist. “It's not your job to worry about everything all the time.”

This is something that has been said to Chan many times in many different ways by many people. Sana and Minho are the biggest culprits, but it’s never hit him this hard.

“I don’t know how to stop.” Admitting it feels like he’s offering Felix some little vulnerable part of himself.

Another sigh, Felix’s fingers dig into the bone of his wrist. “I know.” He says quietly. No judgment or disappointment, just a simple acknowledgement. It’s the best that can be done short of scooping Chan’s brain out and rewiring the entire thing with their bare hands.

It still doesn’t feel like enough, but Chan is afraid that nothing ever will be. There’s nothing that one person can say that can fix it all at once. If it were that simple, he would have stopped letting Sana poke and prod at him years ago.

Felix isn’t some miracle worker that can fix him with a few perfect words, and that’s ok because Chan wasn’t expecting him to. It doesn’t work like that, it never will.

“I’m sorry, Felix.” He apologizes again. Jeongin had told him once that he apologizes too much, in that way that only the youngest can get away with. He might’ve had a point. “I care about you so much and I never want you to get hurt. Least of all by me.”

Felix clicks his tongue, moving to pry Chan’s hands away from his face before he can press his fingers any further into his eyes. “Hey, look at me.” He’s practically in Chan’s lap now, straddling one of his legs to get closer. “You can’t protect me from everything. I’m going to get hurt, not by you but by life, things out of our control. I need to know that I have someone to lean on when that happens.”

“I want to be that person.” Chan breathes. They’re so close, he could probably count Felix’s freckles if he had the time.

“And I want to be the person you can lean on. It doesn’t have to all be on your shoulders, no matter how glorious they are.” Felix smiles, small and teasing but it lightens something in Chan’s chest that had been dragging him down to the ocean floor.

Chan wants to be the sort of person that Felix can rely on no matter what, with no fear of being disappointed. It’s so important to him.

“Ok, yeah. That seems doable.” He agrees, and it makes Felix smile even wider. 

It hits him suddenly that the reason he recognizes the shirt Felix is wearing is because it’s one of his own. Granted it’s from his teenage years and it wouldn’t fit him now, he remembers Changbin stealing it, but it was Chan’s at one point.

Now it sits big on Felix, collar dipping low enough to show off part of his freckled shoulder.

“Where’d you get that shirt?” He asks dumbly, staring at where the fabric meets skin.

“I don’t know, I think I took it from Hyunjin. Why?” Felix fixes the collar of the shirt, hiding away his freckles and Chan mourns the sight.

There’s something a little funny about Felix stealing a shirt from Hyunjin that Hyunjin definitely took from Changbin, which Changbin originally stole from Chan. It’s almost as if it’s come full circle back to him, wrapped around Felix like paper on a present.

Their conversation has taken a very hard turn from the emotional tangle that they were just doing their best to unknot, but Chan wants to reach forward and touch Felix. Pull at the collar of his shirt and reveal his shoulder once more.

He gives in to the impulse itching at his fingers and idly pinches at the shoulder seam of it. “Would you believe me if I told you it was mine?”

Felix smirks. “Really? Do you want it back?”

“I don’t think it’d fit anymore,” Chan answers, trying his best to to stay as serious as possible, but his own smile threatens to break through. “What with my glorious shoulders.”

That makes Felix flush, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he chews on his smile. “So I can keep it?”

Chan hums, presses his thumb into the seam. “It looks better on you.”

They both fall quiet, staring at each other in a moment suspended in time. Like the quivering surface tension on an overfull glass of water, growing and growing with every new drop added.

Chan can not stop looking at Felix’s mouth. The way his top lip bows and his bottom lip pouts. It’s the perfect shape, he’s sure of it, and he wants nothing more than to memorize it. He’s been thinking about the feel of Felix’s mouth against his own on loop, playing it over and over in the quiet minutes of his day.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about our kiss yesterday.” Felix admits, as if he’s reading Chan’s mind.

“Me either.”

Felix chews at his bottom lip, eyes bouncing all around Chan’s face. “I think you should kiss me again.”

The first time they kissed it was Felix who initiated, pulling Chan into it with a burning fervor. It was Chan’s turn to reach out and take the first step, cupping the side of Felix’s neck and hauling him close, tipping him into Chan’s lap in one solid move.

Felix gasps into the kiss before he melts, hands anchoring at Chan’s shoulders.

They get lost in each other like that, kissing for who knows how long. All Chan knows is the shape of Felix’s body against his own, Felix’s mouth and Felix’s tongue and Felix’s small hands squeezing at every one of Chan's muscles that he can reach.

Reluctantly, Felix pulls away, breathing out a laugh when Chan tries to follow. He knows that Felix wants him to see something before Felix opens his mouth, but he’d much rather they kept kissing.

“I want to show you something. I know that you've already felt it but I want you to see it. With your eyes, not mine.”

He untangles himself from Chan, taking a deep breath to steel himself before he's turning around. Chan can just see the impression of his shoulder blades through the loose fabric of the shirt as he moves.

Felix peels the shirt off, revealing the expanse of his back, and the sight of it makes Chan’s breath catch in his throat.

There, burned into his skin like an after image, is the outline of a spinal clamp. He had felt it in the drift, that searing pain and the way it dug itself into his muscles and nervous system, but seeing it feels like a different beast altogether.

He reaches out on impulse, hesitates. Lungs tripping over nothing as he remembers screaming, crying, begging for anyone to put him out of his misery because it must have been better than this, than the burning-

“You can touch.” Felix grants him permission to a question he couldn’t find the courage to ask.

So Chan touches. Ghosts his fingers along the indents in his skin, the way it crawls up into the curve of Felix’s right shoulder. “Does it hurt?” He knows the answer but he still has to ask.

“Only sometimes.” Felix hums, flexing the muscles of his back. Leaning into Chan’s touch.

When Chan drags his gaze away from the scarring, he meets Felix’s eye from where he’s looking over his shoulder. Chin slightly dipped, lips parted. Chan wants to sway forward, press his body along the line of Felix’s back and hold him close. Touch his lips to the lines in his shoulder, down his spine.

“Chris,” Felix breathes his name, and it always feels like touching a live wire. Felix has been calling him Chris ever since the first time they drifted, and it feels special in a way that Chan can’t explain.

As if he's being gifted something that he wasn't even aware he was missing.

Chan gives in to the desire to touch, placing his mouth on Felix's wing bone where the scar meets unblemished skin. It makes Felix shiver.

He's allowed to indulge for only a moment before Felix is turning in his arms and connecting their mouths with a heated intensity. Tipping Chan's head back to better kiss him, little fingers gripping his chin.

“What will be the most comfortable for you?” Chan asks, hands at Felix’s waist, mouth on his pulse.

Felix laughs, a half silent thing as he noses into Chan’s hairline. “You’re so sweet, has anyone ever told you that?”

“I just want to make sure you’re going to enjoy whatever comes next.”

Felix shoves him back, eyes lighting up at how easily Chan let’s himself be pushed. “Trust me, I’m gonna enjoy this. Down, boy.” Another shove and Chan is falling back against the mattress, body bouncing slightly with it.

It makes him shiver, a whine breaking free before he can stop himself.

"Oh, you like that." Felix sounds like he's just struck gold, smiling with all of his teeth.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The sound of an alarm blaring, loud and sharp, wakes Felix with a small gasp. Muscle memory has him swinging his legs out of bed before his conscious brain can fully catch up. It’s a call to attention that has him moving, reaching for clothing and changing as quickly as he can.

The clock beside their bed says 2:10am in big, blocky numbers. It’s far too early for this, holy shit.

Felix is pulling his shirt on when he finally turns back to the bed, head popping free and mouth opening to complain about the time before he’s stopping himself. He was expecting his co-pilot to be awake already, yet the sight of Chan still asleep stops him short. It lasts all of a second, seeing as how they’re on a time crunch with the alarm still sounding, but it’s enough time for Felix to appreciate him like this.

Laying on his stomach, arms folded underneath his pillow and bare back on display for Felix to stare at. It’s a miracle, really, that Chan is sleeping at all. Felix almost feels guilty waking him, but he can’t pilot their Jaeger alone.

Over the last few weeks Chan has been getting more sleep, but the nights where he sleeps soundly aren’t as common as Felix would like. Things have been better recently. Not perfect, but better, and that’s all Felix can really hope for.

The only thing that isn’t getting any better are the attacks. Kaiju have been crawling out of the ocean much more frequently, and it has the scientists in chaos as they’re trying to figure out the cause. The last Kaiju to be taken out was only two weeks ago and yet the alarm is sounding for another one. Seungmin had said something about this the last time they ate lunch together. Mentioning the possibility of double, even triple events in their future.

But he also mentioned that him and another scientist, Shota, have been brainstorming a way to end it all, and Felix holds on to that even if it is just a fantasy.

With a heavy sigh, Felix makes the hard decision to lean in and smack at Chan’s shoulder to wake him up. Felix much prefers waking Chan up gradually, with fingers working through his curls and kisses peppered all over his face until Chan is waking with a sweet smile that reveals his dimple.

It only takes a few solid hits for Chan to breathe in sharply, eyes fluttering once before he’s practically catapulting himself up and out of bed. “Fuck.” He hisses, voice rough from sleep.

“You almost slept through the alarm.” Felix says mildly, pressing a hand between Chan’s shoulder blades to ground him. “You never would have heard the end of it from Jeongin.”

Chan hums a stilted noise. “Movement in the breach? Already?”

Felix mirrors his noise. “Another category three.”

Another curse, and then Chan is swiftly getting dressed in record time. It’s a practiced routine that they’re both pros at by now, moving around each other like a well oiled machine. Felix tosses Chan a shirt and in return Chan hands him a pair of socks.

“I was dreaming about getting ice cream.” He explains, voice still sleep heavy as he brings both his boots and Felix’s over to the bed so they can tug them on together. “It was summer and I went with my sisters.” Chan pauses, ties his laces with a double knot. “Sister.” He corrects, once he’s more awake. “I have one sister.”

“But I have two and we’d meet up at an ice cream parlor sometimes after school.” This doesn’t happen often, but they’ve started to get used to it. The sharing of memories and habits and traits. Waking up from a dream that doesn’t belong to them and being able to answer a question before it’s ever asked.

Chan smiles, small and soft. “It was a really nice memory. Though, your older sister wasn’t happy at all that I was going into the Jaeger program. Or, that you were.”

He thinks it’s only fair that Chan got to experience something a little bit bitter sweet from Felix’s life, seeing as how he had a dream just the other night about laying under the stars with Changbin. They were both younger, he could tell because Changbin was all angles in the way of gangly youth. When he smiled, it filled Felix’s heart with such a warm sadness that he didn’t know what to do with it.

You’re the only one who will ever be drift compatible with me, he remembers saying. Changbin had laughed at him, sharp and amused.

That’s impossible, Channie. You’ll find someone, don’t be dramatic.

Why’d you have to drop out? We could’ve had our own Jaeger.

Because someone has to make sure that you come back home in one piece.

Felix wastes no time once they’re sufficiently dressed, hauling Chan to his feet and shoving him towards the door. They can have a conversation about dreams tangled into memories and all of the ways they’ve begun to bleed into each other later, right now they need to be heroes that aren’t running late and they’re already falling behind.

Before he leaves, Felix makes sure to grab their jackets. They’ll be taking them off soon enough to change into their drivesuits, but they’re new and Felix is excited and really wants everyone they pass to see them.

Once he catches up, Chan is already reaching behind himself, facing forward as they walk and not once looking at Felix, because he knows without any words being exchanged that Felix wants to hand him something.

Felix stays back a few steps, watching as Chan shrugs the jacket on. Not only because he loves the way Chan’s shoulders work, it’s a mesmerizing sight, but he also wants to appreciate the patch on the back of the jacket.

The new name of their Jaeger stamped across Chan’s glorious shoulders.

Ghost Runner.

The jackets are leather and almost exact copies of each other, the only difference being their sizes. While Felix doesn’t mind oversized jackets and has even begun stealing Chan’s clothing to look stylish and stay comfortable, he knew that his own official jacket would have to actually fit his slighter frame.

They were gifts from their friends as a congratulations on surviving each other. Felix and Chan have drifted together twice more since that first fateful day, and each time Felix has left the drift feeling stable and whole. No ringing headaches or blurred vision.

There were no lasting effects of the drift, at least not beyond whatever echoes of ghost drifting have lingered, but neither he or Chan have told anyone else about it. Chan says Sana suspects, but she hasn’t brought it up just yet so Chan won’t either.

Jisung had handed over the boxes with a huge smile, excited at their future together, and it settled something within Felix. Stupidly enough it almost felt like he was getting Jisung’s blessing.

Felix had cried the first time he saw the Jaeger name on the back, hugging the jacket to his face as Chan held him and giggled in between his own sniffling.

With Hyunjin still healing and not yet cleared for duty, it means they’ve been running point on all missions since and will be for the foreseeable future. No exceptions. But Felix doesn’t mind all that much, seeing as how it means he gets to drift with Chan, and Phoenix Glory is collecting dust somewhere in a secondary hangar.

Kept away from Chan indefinitely.

Chan reaches back again, looking over his shoulder to smile at Felix as he grabs at his hand.

Felix thinks he’d go anywhere if Chan was the one leading him, all it takes is a sweet smile and the unsaid promise that he’d never let anything hurt Felix.

They’re almost at the elevator when Jisung practically tackles Chan, hooking an arm around his shoulders and immediately keeping pace with them both.

“Yo,” he greets, smiling wide. “Minho won't be too happy that you're late.”

“We're not late!” Felix argues, knowing full well that they’re running late.

Jisung laughs, leaning into Chan so that he can get a better look at Felix. “You’re cutting it pretty close.” He sings. They’ve stopped now, standing so close together that Felix can see the subtle freckles on Chan’s cheeks.

“What are you even doing here?” Chan asks, leaning into Jisung’s weight.

Like a switch, Jisung’s expression falls, looking much more serious as he meets Chan’s eye. “I’m the search and rescue team that was sent out, seeing as how two of our best Jaeger pilots are extremely late which only means they must have gone missing.”

Felix stops himself from once again trying to argue against the truth, instead glaring at Jisung without any real heat. He’s met with an almost cartoonish wink.

Chan rolls his eyes but he's smiling, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “Good job finding us, you’re extremely talented.”

“Thank you! Minho said I was the best for the job.” Smiling once again, Jisung grabs Chan by the jaw and plants a very loud kiss to his cheek. “Alright, get out of here. You’re going to be amazing, take care of each other, yeah?”

“Always.” Felix answers without hesitation.

Just as quickly as he arrived, Jisung is peeling away and turning to leave. He makes sure to squeeze Felix’s hand before he goes. “Jinnie is waiting for me, we’re going to watch your epic victory together.”

“Wait!” Felix stops him, refusing to let go and pulling Jisung back into his orbit. He spoke to Hyunjin just yesterday, he knows that his shoulder is healing quickly, but Felix is curious if there’s any news. “How is he doing?”

“The doctor said he'll be cleared to drift soon.” Jisung says, which is definitely news.

“Good! Especially if Seungmin is right, we'll need all the help we can get.”

“Ugh, don't remind me about his rumored double events.”

Chan grabs Felix around the waist with one solid arm and hauls him into the elevator. “Sorry, sorry! We're in a bit of a rush.”

“Good luck!” Jisung calls as the doors begin to close. “Love you both! Don't die!”

“Hey,” Felix says, stopping Chan before they go any further.

“What?” Chan immediately stops, turning at even the slightest touch of Felix’s fingers at his arm.

“I love you.” Felix tells him without hesitation, because it's something they both already know. They've known it since the second time they drifted together, able to feel it through the connection, woven into every thought and feeling that was shared between them.

They couldn't hide from it even if they wanted to.

But sometimes Felix still likes to say it out loud, even though it's an immutable fact of the universe that they repeat to each other in the drift. Over and over like background noise to everything else.

It's good to hear it, to give the words weight and shape in the real world.

Chan smiles, big and a little goofy. “I love you.”

“Are you ready for this?” Of course he knows the answer, but he asks anyway because it’s a comfortable little tradition that settles both of their nerves, and Chan loves his routines.

As expected, Chan's shoulders relax. He kisses Felix, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other grasping at the edge of Felix’s jacket. “Are you?”