Pairing: Onkey, Onho, Jongkey, Taekey
Summary: They had always been more than just dolls to Kibum.
Warnings: So, umm, this would be a pretty messed up fic...
Jinki was different. He wasn’t a patient admitted to Kibum’s ward. He was a young volunteer that had admired Kibum very, very much. He was shy though, and couldn’t speak to Kibum without stuttering.
It hadn't taken long for it to be obvious that Jinki totally had a school girl crush on the young psychologist.
Although it had taken far longer for Jinki to confess, the clueless psychologist had sensed nothing at all.
Kibum had generously accepted when Jinki bought him a bouquet of flowers, and had rather embarrassingly sang a love song to Kibum at a Christmas party. Jinki had been blushing the entire night, wondering why someone so perfect would love someone as clumsy and childish as himself.
Turns out Kibum didn't.
It had gone on for far too long now, for what had started as an unhealthy experiment had become a sickening obsession. But he was still missing one member... The member that he had loved for so many years.
And there was something special about Jinki, something about the way that he devoted himself to Kibum. There was something so very pure inside of Jinki that reminded Kibum of Onew.
As he dated Jinki for the year, he had also been slipping little pills into the waterbottles handed to the kind volunteer. There still were things in Jinki that were so unlike Onew. For one, it didn’t take Kibum long to realize that Jinki was far from silent and reserved; the boy was friendly enough to smile at complete strangers.
Another thing was that Onew should not be that childish and cheerful. He was not supposed to be smiley for anybody else other than Kibum.
It took longer for Jinki, and Kibum spent a lot of time repeating information to Jinki.
“Your name is Onew; you were born December 14th; you’re an orphan so you have no parents. You fell in love with Kibum at first sight. Kibum makes you feel happy. Your favourite colour is Green. You don’t like watermelons. You are very quiet and you don’t like to talk to people. You don’t trust anybody but Kibum. You live with Kibum, and you always had. Your name is Onew. You were born December 14th. You’re an orphan so you have no parents. You fell in love with Kibum at first sight. Kibum makes you feel happy….”
Kibum stroked Onew’s warm cheek as the familiar CD track played in the background, Jinki smiling sweetly into Kibum’s touch as his breaths evened out.
“Soon, Jinki. Soon, I’ll make Onew alive and he’ll live in you.” Kibum’s voice was soft, little tears sliding down his cheek as he realized that would mean his doll would be discarded soon. He refused to sob aloud, because he wasn’t sad. He would have a live version, and that would be millions times better. He wasn’t sad at all.
He didn’t think much about the way that Jinki would be disappearing forever. He pushed the thoughts of the cheerful boy to the back of his head. No person could be more perfect that the Onew he had created; nobody was more perfect for him.
“Jinki.” Key called softly, hand sliding along Jinki’s arm till it reached the latter’s elbow. “This way, Jinki. We have to use the elevator.”
Jinki blinked confusedly, his newly styled hair a bit too long as his eyes were partly covered by the bangs. He swung his head around to see nothing but the darkened waiting room of the ward. He never had wondered as to why the ward would be closed all the time, and at the moment, he was distracted because Kibum said there was a surprise in store for him. “But I’m Onew, Kibummie! Did you forget my name?”
Kibum’s eyes travelled to Jinki, to the way the boy was gazing so innocently up at him.
“I’m sorry, Onew.” He sighed, tired smile on his face as Jinki pulled him into a hug. “Don’t forget me please, Kibummie.”
How could I ever? Kibum wondered, eyes travelling to the backpack strewn across the front desk. “I have to go get something, Onew. Be a good boy and go to the fourteenth floor by yourself. I’ll be there soon.”
However, not ten minutes later, as Kibum was grabbing his doll out of his backpack, Jinki’s roommate, Joon, showed up at the ward to pick the boy up, Kibum did nothing but smile and apologize. Because Jinki had not shown up that day for his shift.
“But Jinki never misses a shift! And I saw him leave our apartment this morning!” Joon had said, taking out his cellphone and giving Jinki another call.
Kibum did nothing but offer the distressed elder a shrug. Not saying a word even as he knew Jinki was sitting on a chair in the operation room, his legs swinging as he waited for his love, his Kibum to come back and give him the surprise Kibum had promised.
The operation only acted as the icing, the finishing touches. When Onew was introduced to the group on the 6th floor, not an ounce of Jinki was left in his system.
Maybe it’s because Jinki had more to lose in the first place, because Onew changed.
Kibum had wanted him to be completely perfect, so Onew was the one that had the most procedures done on him. This resulted in him constantly suffering from post-operation pains, and he needed at least three doses of morphine a day in order to not go crazy from the pain.
Kibum was especially guilty when he saw the boy toss and turn, writhe in pain because he simply could not shake such immense agony away.
But Kibum didn’t feel guilty enough to push the boy away when he curled into his chest, begged for a small kiss on his brow, or a simple pat of his head.
Kibum thinks that he truly loves Onew.
But Onew wasn’t like the rest of them. He wasn’t as obedient as Jonghyun and Taemin, and certainly not as nonchalant as Minho. He didn’t simply accept everything Kibum told him. He chose to grow out of it.
Like any normal child, he started to grow up and change.
He wasn’t silent and reserved anymore.
Instead, he decided to be cheerful and kind, cute and childish, He wasn’t at all like how Kibum wanted his Onew doll to be. Jinki was showing, and Kibum was horrified.
He also started to stick to Minho way too much.
The first meeting of the two had been rather uninteresting, with Minho ignoring the elder as he huddled in the corner drawing pictures.
In time though, Onew became interested, and followed the younger boy around inquiring about this and that; why Minho drew only in black and white or why Minho didn’t draw food, but always drew pictures of things Onew had never seen before. Minho didn’t want to tell Onew that he had never seen these things either, but somehow, his hand would guide him into forming shapes and figures he doesn’t remember at all. He didn’t want to tell Onew anything, and Minho was quite annoyed at first, as his precious sketching time was intruded upon by such a nosy, clueless boy.
When one day, he found himself sketching a wide arc across the sky, and a large circular object in the far distance, he found the elder boy smiling dreamily at the picture. He took a moment to admire the cute, crescent shaped eyes pulled into an eye-smile, before requesting, without the slightest hint of embarrassment, if Onew could stay still for a moment.
When Onew realized he was being sketched, he giggled and peered over Minho’s hand to look at the drawing.
Neither noticed Kibum shaking his head with an upset pout on his face.
Onew wasn’t supposed to be friendly and popular; he wasn’t supposed to be social and well-liked.
He was supposed to only have Kibum, much like how Kibum only had Onew.
Now though, there were far too many incidences in which Kibum found Onew curled up on Minho’s lap, or hugging Taemin to sleep. Kibum was growing sick of seeing the way Minho smiled at Onew.
So then he started feeding Onew those pills again, and isolated the boy in a small room located on an isolated floor of the psych ward.
He only let his heavy heart relax when Onew told him he didn’t know who Minho was, and that Taemin sounded oddly familiar though he’s never met such a person before.
He only knew Kibum, and only smiled when Kibum went to visit him.
Kibum liked it that way.
Onew was changing again, but this time, Kibum realized that he didn’t want to turn him back. It seemed like a whole different story when Kibum was the sole recipient of the sweetness that was Onew now.
There was something oddly beautiful about the way Onew’s eyes sparkled when he told a joke, something about the way that Kibum could only fall into peaceful sleep when Onew went about rambling about random topics.
This wasn’t the Onew he had created, but this was starting to feel more right.
This Onew wasn’t shy and reserved, but he latched onto Kibum and pulled him into the warmest hugs. In these moments, Kibum felt grateful that Onew was nothing like he was originally meant to be.
Sometimes though, with his face buried in Kibum’s chest, Onew would wonder about why he was alone in the room, and why there was nobody else but Kibum. The times when Kibum was working, he would be alone in a room that had barred walls.
He didn’t realize that it was a prison that his lover made him stay in.
Kibum would always look a little scared and vulnerable when he asked questions like these, and would respond in the smallest voice he’d ever heard Kibum use.
“But aren’t I enough?”
“Of course!” Onew would always rush to reassure Kibum, cutely flashing his megawatt smile as he pecked Kibum on the cheek.
But it still hurt. Kibum didn’t let the insecurity show, but as soon as he left the ball of warmness that was Onew, he would be enveloped in a cold, merciless cocoon called the world, nicknamed Reality.
He had tried so hard to make Onew reality, but it was a reality nobody could really know.
Reality, he considered, was meant to be shared.
Kibum sometimes woke up in cold sweat, his eyes furrowed and his lips pressed into a firm frown. He never remembered what those dreams were about, but if Onew being sad brought on that strong sense of déjà vu, then it must be nightmares of Onew leaving him.
It was when the nightmares became all too frequent that he decided he should start taking those pills too, just so that he himself could forget. If it worked for everybody else, it should work for him too, right?
He wrote himself a small diary, one that left out any information regarding his nightmares.
In his diary, he was a doll too, and he loved Onew. That was all he included: beautiful memories he and Onew shared.
Everything had been almost peaceful, until almost a year later, a newly promoted sergeant decided he wanted to reopen Lee Jinki’s case. The case struck him as odd, considering the fact that Jinki was last spotted entering a mental ward, but had never exited the building.
When the police had barged into the fourteenth floor, several of them hesitated for a moment more as they caught sight of the barred walls. Kibum had had his hand in Onew’s hair, attempting to pull out the tangles so that he could style Onew’s hair just the way he liked it.
It wasn’t the first time in Kibum’s life that he felt like everything was a blur, but he may have seen it coming. He just hadn’t expected them to tear Onew apart from him.
But that’s just what happens as the police officers, seemingly over-dressed in their bullet proof vests and sporting heavy protective gear, hauled Onew to one corner of the room and Kibum to the opposite.
“Control the boy.” Kibum hears a voice nearby, calm and not the least bit flustered.
Onew was sobbing, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he tries to run back to Kibum.
The officer wasn’t talking about Onew.
It took Kibum another minute to realize that the officer was referring to him, and that if he were to take a step back, he may even describe himself as ferocious beast like. His hands were clawing at anything in his immediate surrounding, eyes frantic and actions jerky, disoriented.
He felt the complete opposite though. He was thinking clearly and was calmly thinking about whether he remembered to lock the door to the floor with the rest of his dolls.
Maybe because this was so alike to what he had to deal with when he was a child, because he found that right now, he felt like the entire situation was rehearsed. It was like his sister barging into his room with their parents, taking all his dolls except for the ones he kept especially well hidden.
Today though, his best dolls weren’t hidden well enough.
They had found them. The trio, Jonghyun, Minho and Taemin, had been sitting around a large room, occupying specific seats that were labeled with their names, and staring at one another.
The police had never found it so difficult to convince weaponless, defenseless suspects out of a room. Nothing they said seemed to make it through the boys’ heads.
“Yes, we found them.” Jonghyun heard a man say, “But we don’t know who they are.”
“I’m Kim Jonghyun. My favourite colour is blue. I have a good voice. I have golden hair. I’m very short. Kibummie loves me. My birthday is April 8th. I love Kibummie. I don’t have parents; I only have Kibummie. I’m Kim Jonghyun. My favourite colour is blue…” Jonghyun responded good naturedly, though he wondered why Kibum hadn’t come to visit him yet. Kibum always came around this time everyday, when the sun was just starting to set and Jonghyun could see a pretty pink glow in the sky from the window.
Minho hadn’t been the same after Onew had left. Like a conditioned puppy, he seems to think that drawing will bring Onew back. After all, Onew used to always trail after him when he was drawing anyways. Yet every time he looked over his soldier, all he saw were a bunch of men in similar outfits, glaring at him. They had been taken out of that barred room and put into another one, but he doesn’t see anybody now. Not Jonghyun. Not Taemin. Not Kibum. Not Onew.
When those men in black outfits asked him who he was, he always responded before he even needed to think over the answer. “I’m Choi Minho. I am 185cm tall. I have big eyes. I like the colour black. My parents died. I have Kibum. I don’t talk a lot. My birthday is December 9th. I draw. I’m Choi Minho. I am 185cm tall…”
He never quite understood the expressions those men had on their faces. All he knew was that those faces looked nothing like the expressions he saw on Onew’s face. Those crescent eyes and full cheeks. He never mentioned Onew, but Onew felt like a secret, one that he wanted to keep only to himself.
Taemin was the only one that cried. Something deep inside of him, probably a more childish, subconscious part of him, realized that who he had been calling umma all along was not coming back. But he was a good boy. When those men asked him who he was, he responded like how Kibum-umma told him to respond.
“I’m Lee Taemin. My birthday is July 18th. My umma loves me. I love my umma. I eat a lot. I’m awkward. My favourite colour is yellow. I smile a lot. I’m a good boy. I’m Lee Taemin. My birthday is…”
When it was night and Taemin closed his eyes, the bed in the cell felt too cold, and he really missed his umma. He would cry as loudly as he could when he was feeling particularly lonely, because sometimes, when he did that, Kibum would hear him and visit him. That didn’t happen in this cell though.
“Jinki-ah., I hope whoever hurt you gets what they deserve.” Joon was huddled in a corner of the courtroom, overlooking the entire hall. There was Kim Kibum, splayed casually over the hard plastic chair he was provided, lazy, distant smile on his face.
“Kim Kibum has been housing stray fugitives, and the mental ward seems to be merely a cover up. In his possession was also an excessive amount of marijuana, morphine, and several other drugs. It seems that there were never any patients admitted to the ward, considering the fact that no files could be found at all. After a month long investigation, no families have come forward to identify either the unidentified subjects, or to claim that they have family admitted to the ward. It also seems that Kim Kibum is mentally unstable, and is determined to be suffering from schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder. From the evidence provided, there is a sentence of 4 years for fraud and drug possession. However, due to doubt of mental illness, further examinations will be arranged, and if medical reports do show such, an equivalent 5 years in the mental ward will take the place of the original sentence. The unidentified subjects, including ‘Kim Jonghyun’, ‘Choi Minho’, “Lee Taemin’ and ‘Onew’ are to be admitted to an actual mental ward and given temporary resident IDs.”
“As for Lee Jinki, who had disappeared approximately two years ago, is still missing. Although there is evidence of him entering the ward, no valid predictions can be made from this evidence alone.”
Joon couldn’t listen to anymore, he clambered to his feet and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, tears choking him more than the squeeze of the scratchy woolen material winding around his neck.
As he reached the doors, he cast one more dark look in the direction of Kim Kibum, and was unpleasantly surprised when he found cat like eyes peering in his direction too.
For a second, he swore he saw those eyes soften, but then it was back to a deluded glare, so he left before it made him think too much.
In later nights, Joon would dream of those cat like eyes, and those pretty lips parting to whisper an apology. It came to no surprise that he never saw Lee Jinki again, despite his persistent efforts in looking for the boy.
Jonghyun, Taemin, Minho and Onew had been released from their respective mental wards a year later, each seemingly very, very normal.
There were still parts of them nobody knew though. Parts of them that never changed.
For one, Onew’s bright smile was in place as he visited Kibum in his cell not much later after his release. Neither had said anything for nearly half an hour, but Onew’s smile wasn’t fading. On the contrary, his eyes were bright with an emotion Kibum was quite wary of.
“Do you hate me?” Kibum had asked, his voice raw and vulnerable, and contrasting oh so sharply with the gray and black décor of the meeting area. Kibum brought up a handcuffed hand to brush aside strands of hair that were too long and hung in disarray around Onew’s sweet face.
His hand paused until Onew leaned in to his touch.
“Never.” Onew replied. There was an air confusion in his tone that Kibum really, really missed.
“Who are you, really?” Key asked, eyes narrowing as he said the key words.
Onew’s eyes glazed over even as the smile on his face persisted. “I’m Onew. I was born December 14th. I’m an orphan so I have no parents. I fell in love with Kibum at first sight. Kibum makes me feel happy. My favourite colour is Green. I don’t like watermelons. I am very quiet and I don’t like to talk to people. I don’t trust anybody but Kibum. I live with Kibum, and I always had.”
“Good.” Somethings will never change, and others never can be changed. Kibum acknowledged this with a grin and a nod of his head. “Who do you love?”
“I love Kibummie. Kibummie and I have been childhood friends. Kibummie used to hug me to sleep. Kibummie makes me perfect.” Kibum thought the answer was perfect. It was just as they had rehearsed.
“I love you too, baby.” Kibum said, a satisfied glint in his eyes. So Onew never forgot. He should’ve never doubted Onew’s love for him.
A small voice in the back of his head still bugged Kibum though. And oddly enough, it seemed like it was his own voice.
No, he doesn’t love you, you sick, sick person. And you don’t love him either. You’re just too afraid to admit that your dollhouse was never real. You are alone, with your sick mind.
“I love Kibummie.” Onew repeated.
Out of habit.
Boo. Hi! Thanks for reading! This is the ending, but I'll probably be posting up the epilogue tomorrow :P I actually wrote the epilogue before most of the actual story, so tell me what you think, okay? :) If anybody is confused, or if you have feedback, please comment! :)
P.S. Do comment if you find any problems... I'm writing it quite late, so who knows :P
Btw, sorry for any mistakes in regards to legal processes and such...