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unwind the world, is your nightmare gone?

Summary:

He learns of lots of things that these people say his older self has experienced in the apocalypse: kindness, companionship, strength, family, love, sacrifice; all things they say the older him has provided to them.

(He's not sure he believes it.)

They seem to know him too well to the point that it scares him a bit, listing things they couldn't possibly know if they didn't; his hate for tomatoes, his tendency to lie with a straight face, his love for stories; even predicting correctly that his favorite food will be murim dumplings, once he tries them. They try very hard not to overwhelm him, but both the praise and insult they give him remain unchanging, time and time again.

The person they describe— it doesn't sound like him. Like anything he could possibly be.

(And yet, it's a fact that they're here, waiting for that person to come back to them. It's comforting, and frightening at the same time; both an assurance and an expectation.)

(or: Kim Dokja, and the mortifying ordeal of being loved)

Notes:

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS for pretty much everything. The epilogue, the identity of Secretive Plotter, tls123, and the Most Ancient Dream, and all that

Also, warning for implied attempted suicide

Hope you enjoy ♡

edit: for clarification, quite a few scenes in this fic were heavily inspired by other fics, so if you see obvious similarities or get a feeling of deja vu, that's why!
Those fics are linked in the end notes! :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Kim Dokja blinks his eyes open, and it's still the same bleary view of the subway; still the same cold metal that surrounds him. He pushes himself to sit up, and very pointedly does not think about how short his fingers feel and how his white coat drags, hanging onto a frame too small to fit it.

The subway train itself had long stopped. The view outside the window is full of endless white stars and vast black space. Dokja has never cared much for stars, though, and the scenarios have really only turned indifference to hate. Why care about stars, which only observe from afar and laugh at the spectacles they watch below them? Why care about a fallen star, torn down from the sky? It probably got what it deserved, for watching the lives and deaths of the people below as a form of entertainment.

Well, that's not quite true. Uriel, Sun Wukong, and Persephone and Hades, at the very least, he could say he cares about. He could say he loves.

He can't say he understands the reciprocation.

(There's still the feeling of a bruise on his cheek. If he touches it, nothing is there; Han Sooyoung had joked as his companions headed up the subway stairs that maybe she should have punched harder to leave a deeper mark on the Ugliest King's already hideous face, but had stared at it hard enough to burn a hole anyhow, before brushing it off with "You totally deserve it, anyway." )

(If he closes his eyes, he can sometimes see her crying, shaking him at the shoulders, demanding why, why, why, you knew, didn't you? as the source of all their misery (a young child with his face) stared back at them. 

[Please end 'The Most Ancient Dream.']

(The very same face, stature, and title he now bears.)

Part of him doesn't get why they couldn't do it. How could anyone love the source of their misery?)

But of course, it's foolish to try and simplify things like that, and despite all his knowledge of the story, Dokja has always been the fool; He doesn't really mind it anymore. No, rather, it was his love for stories (for a one certain story) that made him the fool, and even as it destroyed the world they lived in, they were the very same words that helped him cling to life.

(The very same life that would drive everyone he loved to complete and utter misery.)

(He doesn't understand why Secretive Plotter, the 1863rd Yoo Joonghyuk, didn't kill him right then and there. He had the most right. 1863 lifetimes of suffering, of lives being lost and worlds being torn apart, only to amount to the culprit being a pathetic kid who couldn't control his imagination.

[[Oh, you sad, pitiful child.]]

He had shuddered, hearing those words from the 1863rd turn's Uriel.)

(He just doesn't understand.

Maybe he doesn't want to.)

⸢ I to ld y ou ⸥

Dokja sighs. He had wondered when [The Fourth Wall] was going to speak up.

⸢ Its n ot a pro blem y ou ca n ju dge, st upid Kim Dok ja ⸥

Truthfully, he's grateful for the company. He'd have gone insane for the years of staying on this train alone if there was no one to talk to.

⸢ Th ey ll b e sa d y ou de cei ved th em a gain ⸥

"Like I said," Dokja says, maybe a little too quickly, "A part of me definitely left the train with them."

[The percentage of memories you currently retain is '51%.']

"We are getting off together, right?" Sooyoung had said, eyeing him with suspicion.

[Someone has activated 'Lie Detection Lv. …']

He had smirked at that.

"Of course. We should."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed Kim Dokja's words as truth.]

And to think, Sooyoung and Joonghyuk had even looked back, as the doors shut. They really knew him too well. And what a terrifying thing it was, to be known. But Lie Detection detects lies, and even the deception of 49% is still a truth. 49% of him had left the train, and continued living life with them, (and so it was fine, that the other 51% remained here).

For all that the 49% avatar had most memories of time spent with his companions during the scenarios, Dokja finds that he remembers them surprisingly well. He remembers the weight of Lee Gilyoung clinging to his leg, of Shin Yoosung tugging at his arm, and so many other things. Lee Jihye calling him a squid, Lee Hyunsung muttering about a lost cartridge, Jung Heewon elbowing him in the ribs, Yoo Sangah smiling sweetly, Han Sooyoung shoving lemon candy in his mouth at any opportune time, and— well, Yoo Joonghyuk being Yoo Joonghyuk.

And really, how absurd, that a story he read and loved and couldn't let go of would end up breaking a perfect 50-50 split into 49-51. Well, he is Dokja, a reader (a lonely child) to the end, he supposes. It would only make sense that he remembered his companions worse than (better than) his avatar— that 49% had their time spent together, and the 51% here had their 'story.'

It was fine, though. Liking people meant liking certain parts of them, and the one they liked and spent time with was certainly out there with them. The one who braved the scenarios, compiled stories, and became the 'Demon King of Salvation.'

(They don't (shouldn't) know or like the other one. The Reader, the Lonely Child, the 'Most Ancient Dream.')

(But what about the writer, without the reader who will read her work? What about the protagonist, without the reader who will read his story?)

He pushes it from his mind.

⸢ Y ou st ill ref use to k now wh at is tru e ⸥

Dokja smirks, hearing that.

"The world's the same without me," he says.

(He doesn't need Lie Detection to know it's a lie.)

⸢ A nd ye t it nee ds y ou un til ■■ ⸥ [The Fourth Wall] cackles at him.

 "Until the end," Dokja agrees. Until eternity.

 "...Hopefully theirs is a happy one," slips out of his mouth, when the silence starts to get a bit too heavy.

⸢ Y ou sh ould re ad ⸥

Dokja pauses.

He glances at the phone in his hand. The screen is cracked, but it somehow managed to function well enough even now, being powered by stories. Despite waking up with bleary eyes and no sense of time, he alertly remembers the sentence he left off on. To think he had been written into the story— that it wasn't just a story anymore, but his story— their story— it was both incredible and bittersweet. Did he deserve a place there, with them?

He could read their conclusion, at least. It didn't matter that he wouldn't truly be a part of it.

—Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World (final version).txt

He'd been daunted out of reading it while the scenarios were still happening; by the thought that something would become set in stone, unable to change, if he did. But his ■■ had finally been determined, his companions were surely continuing their lives after the scenarios, so— there weren't really any good excuses, now.

The screen flickers on with bright light, and, picking up where he left off, Kim Dokja continues to read.

It's not exactly the same story he knows, but despite everything, it is still the story he loves; and now it is also the story he has lived through. Despite reading it, living it, watching it over and over again, and being tired (so tired) of it, in the end, he finds that even now, he can't bring himself to hate it, and that brings him a feeling of relief to the point that he almost feels lightheaded.

—"We haven't even figured out who tls123 is, and..."

He stops, after reading that sentence.

(His mood has plummeted, just a bit.)

(Once upon a time, a girl wrote a story. It was crappy, and had way too much exposition, and its chapter lengths were all over the place, and it was as if the author had only a vague idea of what they were writing in the first place. The serialization had lasted thirteen whole years, and through it all, there was only one reader who truly loved the story. And that was enough, because...

the story was just for that one reader)

Dokja squeezes his eyes shut.

Thirteen whole years dedicated to him.

He scrolls past, opens his eyes, and very carefully, does not think about it (tries not to think about it, what it means,) and instead pours his energy into being frustrated that he can't leave a comment to Sooyoung. (She deserves that much.)

But then—

—"You. Just who the hell are you?"

He reads those words on the screen in front of him, and dread crawls up his throat.

No.

—"I'm sure of it. He's still there, in that place. He has to be."

No, this shouldn't be happening.

—"If you get a chance to run again, do you believe you can see it better the next time?”

This shouldn't be happening at all.

The story had reached its completion. Despite it all, they really had gotten their 'happy end.'

…..So, why?

⸢ Sur ely  y ou kn ew the y wo uld ⸥

Dokja stops cold.

...He can't say anything to that, can he? 

He knew. He had to have known. And even still, he refuses to believe it till after the end.

...He reads.

Because there's nothing else he can do, he reads.

Minutes pass, then hours, then days, and if he didn't lose his sense of time before, he definitely loses it now. It's a story, both new and still the very same: one in which he isn't there, and yet definitely existed, because that is how much his absence weighs on these people; a story which he loves, and hates, because it shouldn't exist at all, and this story, just as it always has, exists for him, and only him.

They all chose to go back into the hell they fought so hard to claw their way out of.

For him.

Dokja bites his lip.

Why for him?

Why, for someone like me? 

He wants to cry and scream, but even if the words and letters could answer him, he probably wouldn't understand anyway. (Can't. Doesn't want to.) But the words are already written— still being written.

So he reads.

He reads, and reads, and the letters keep writing themselves, and he'd do anything to stop them; but he is a reader, not a writer, and so the only thing he can do is keep reading, and truly, there is a part of him that never wants this story to end.

(That's why he became 'The Most Ancient Dream' in the first place, isn't it? For the world to keep on turning?)

Time passes. His vision blurs, and he falls asleep, and wakes up, and continues to read.

Time passes. His vision blurs, and he falls asleep, and wakes up, and continues to read again.

Again, and again, and again.

At some point, the screen blacks out, and reflected in it is his face. There are tears streaming down. (He pretends not to see them.) 

Han Sooyoung, who chose to write the story just for him.

Yoo Joonghyuk, who chose to regress, and lived the story 1864 times, just to meet him.

His companions, who reached their happy end, and chose to go back, for him, for him, for him.

He chokes down the noise that tries to wrench its way out of his throat. From beginning to end, Dokja is always the one being saved.

He's shaking. No, the train is vibrating. Since when had the train started moving again?

The view through the glass isn't stars anymore. It's the subway.

Then—

Thud!

There's pounding on the rear door of the train cabin, and voices he knows all too well call out to him.

His vision starts getting blurry from there. 

There are few things he remembers. Voices full of desperation and longing. Pounding on the door (the wall). Hope that he didn't think he could ever let bloom. Managing a small knock on the wall back in response, before his vision is filled with words and pages, crumbling off him and flying into the air like dust. The feeling of a hand on his throat (and who could that possibly be, other than the damn sunfish himself?)

It's the last thing he knows, as his vision goes black.

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Kim Dokja blinks his eyes open to an IV in his arm and a hospital room full of noisy people who must have the wrong room, because Dokja has never known people this lively who care about his well-being.

"He really shrunk a lot, huh?"

"I swear we're never letting Dokja take the subway ever again."

"That's where I met Hyung, though!"

"So what?"

There's definitely lots of things wrong with that, he thinks. He's not sure why anyone would be in a hospital room with him (much less people he doesn't know), especially this many. Shrunk? He's always been this small (this weak). What was that about a subway? The last thing he remembers was the open sky and the tree that broke his fall. And being called hyung? He would think they weren't talking about him if they hadn't said his name. 

His body feels strangely uninjured (he...thought falling from the window would hurt more?), but extreme exhaustion weighs down on him more heavily than he thinks he's ever experienced in his life, as if his muscles haven't been put to work for centuries.

He scans the room a bit, and there's an odd crowd of people gathered around. A man with the frame of a bear, and a woman carrying a...sword? A woman with pretty brown hair and a kind face. A teenager with her hair in a ponytail and a sword over her shoulder. Two kids who look like they could be siblings. A woman with short black hair and a white coat. A man with a black coat, another sword, scars littering his arms, and black eyes that look almost gold in the light.

(Why do they have swords???)

Dokja tries to sit up, wincing at how weak his body feels (he's always been that way, though; weak and no good at protecting himself). In the moment, he notices a fuzzy, white creature (?) with an ivory horn curled up against his side. He can't help but stare, not quite sure what it is.

Silence drops in the room as many gazes snap to him at once, with the intensity of people who have been waiting for lifetimes, and his mouth suddenly feels dry.

"Um," He tries. It comes out a lot more hoarse and quiet than he expected it to.

"Hyung!!"

"Ahjussi!!"

Two kids just called another kid that. He blinks.

"I...think you have the wrong room?" Dokja says, unsure of it himself, because he can't possibly know people this nice, despite that they seem to know him. (If he had, he wouldn't have gone for the window in the first place.) "My name is Kim Dokja, I'm fifteen, and…"

Their gazes start to burn, and his words slowly die out.

"...and we thought it was over," the woman with the sword sighs, and her glare turns downright murderous.

Dokja flinches a bit at that, and turns to look out the window instead. He ends up staring, because upon realizing it, the outside doesn't look like anywhere he recognizes, either. Maybe he stares for a bit too long, though, because the woman with the short black hair and white coat gets an odd look on her face, before moving to seat herself in front of it.

(He doesn't know how she could know to do that, when they were talking about finding him in the subway. A lot of things don't yet make sense.)

Their faces are all dark, especially the man with the black coat and scars, but he remains silent. Dokja thinks he's the only one in the room who hasn't spoken yet.

It's the woman with the pretty brown hair and kind face who musters up a smile first. "Hello, Dokja. My name is Yoo Sangah. Could you tell us what you most recently remember?"

(It's a shaky smile, Dokja can tell, and it really only feels like insincerity.

He appreciates it nonetheless.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

So the apocalypse happened some years ago, apparently, and after sending the man with the scars to space to spread Sooyoung's story, they all came back here to find Dokja over a decade younger than he should have been; not just physically, but mentally.

[The stories don't quite recognize him yet,] the white, fuzzy creature (allegedly named Biyoo) had said, before turning into a young girl (who strangely resembled himself) in a puff of smoke clouds, leaving him staring in awe. [They're still being written into him, so to say. Father will grow as he remembers, though it's hard to say how long it will take.]

So apparently, he's her father, and something like a father figure to the two other kids, as well. Gilyoung and Yoosung both visit often with insects and animals in tow, respectively, bickering with the other over which Dokja likes more. (He doesn't really know. He's never had much experience with either, and gets the feeling that his alleged adult self is probably in the same boat.) The two sometimes try to squeeze onto the bed with him, though, which works in all aspects aside from his personal comfort.

(Heewon and Sooyoung laugh at him and record it on their phones, while Sangah scolds the kids about giving him space. They obey with sullen expressions, and Biyoo, in her non-human form, smugly takes her place on his lap with a triumphant Bah-aht!)

Jihye, the teenager, comes to visit frequently along with the kids. Mostly, she just comes to ask how he's doing and call him a squid every so often, and Yoosung and Gilyoung argue back on his behalf. It's an inside joke he doesn't get, but he does know he's being insulted. Occasionally, he sticks his tongue out at her, and the two kids mimic him, much to her indignation.

(They sometimes play a game where they flip a coin. Dokja doesn't know why, but the three of them do it a lot.)

Hyunsung and Heewon, the bear-like man and the woman with the sword, often visit together. Hyunsung sometimes rambles about a spent cartridge and says some other odd military metaphors that Dokja doesn't really get while Heewon sighs with her face in her hands, but it's pleasant to listen to regardless. 

(Apparently, Dokja is the cartridge, and it makes him feel strangely warm. He's also pretty sure the two are either dating or have dated, but neither of them say a thing.)

Sangah comes by frequently enough; usually with drinks or food in hand. She likes to tell this particular story of when she put pepper in her boss's coffee, and Dokja, as her coworker, noticed and didn't say anything.

(Even Han Myungoh (said boss) comes to visit once. He leaves soon after, talking about needing to take care of his daughter. He doesn't seem like the same person in the story, seemingly because of that. He gave birth to her himself, Sangah says with the devil's smile, and Dokja wonders how that could possibly happen before deciding that he doesn't want to know.)

Sooyoung comes by less frequently, usually to toss a lemon candy at him or push a book into his hands. "Read," she says, when it's the latter, and there's somehow an odd underlying note of desperation in the deadpan-ness of such a short command. "You love stories." 

(She says it as fact, more confidently than any of the others, and she's right. Dokja hasn't gotten to touch a good book for a few days, too nervous to ask, and it started to bother him. Maybe it bothered her too?)

The man with the scars and black coat doesn't visit. He stormed out of the room immediately after introductions, only held back by Sooyoung's tense hand on his arm up till that point. Yoo Joonghyuk, they say his name is.

( The protagonist, Dokja thinks. He's not sure where that thought comes from.)

He learns of lots of things that these people say his older self has experienced in the apocalypse: kindness, companionship, strength, family, love, sacrifice; all things they say the older him has provided to them.

 (He's not sure he believes it.)

They seem to know him too well to the point that it scares him a bit, listing things they couldn't possibly know if they didn't; his hate for tomatoes, his tendency to lie with a straight face, his love for stories; even predicting correctly that his favorite food will be murim dumplings, once he tries them. They try very hard not to overwhelm him, but both the praise and insult they give him remain unchanging, time and time again. 

The person they describe— it doesn't sound like him. Like anything he could possibly be.

(And yet, it's a fact that they're here, waiting for that person to come back to them. It's comforting, and frightening at the same time; both an assurance and an expectation.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

He gets released from the hospital the morning after he's able to gather the strength to walk, and learns that this place is called the Industrial Complex, home to Kim Dokja's Company.

He meets parents aside from his mother, named Hades and Persephone ( like the gods, he thinks in astonishment), who call him their son and have only come to visit whenever he is asleep for fear of startling him. They ruffle his hair and pull him into a hug, and their touch is cold, but welcome.

(He does indeed recognize their voices from his time in the hospital, matching the soft murmurs that he would hear just before drifting into sleep, and he finds that the love and fondness in them are less foreign than he thought they would be. He begins to wonder just how much he has caused them to worry.)

He meets someone named Uriel, who is very lovely but also very overwhelming, who smothers him at any given time like he is someone precious, and the only reason he hasn't died due to asphyxiation is from Heewon prying her off him.

(One Who is Loved By an Archangel, something in his mind whispers. He still doesn't know where the thought comes from, so he asks about it. Uriel tells a story about herself coming down from the sky to help him, pride beaming in her eyes. He smiles to her face, but he's not sure if he thinks it's a good thing.)

He meets Lee Seolhwa and Aileen, who both check his condition and scold him about developing a sense of self-preservation, before sighing with warm smiles on their faces.

(Aileen, in particular, rambles about him being on the brink of death nearly every time she sees him. She tries to do it quietly, but it doesn't do much. He pretends not to hear. He pushes the implications of death from his mind.)

He meets Jang Hayoung, who immediately calls him adorable, 'less annoying than that adult Dokja-ssi', and that he should learn to fight with the sword.

(She promptly gets flicked on the forehead and yelled at by the adults. She also looks oddly interested whenever someone says the name 'Demon King of Salvation', which confuses Dokja. According to his companions, that's also his adult self.)

He even meets a man named Gong Pildu, who comes around once in a while. The man curses his name often and yells about stolen land, though in the end it dies out to little more than heated mutters. 

(They go on a brief noon fishing trip with everyone once Dokja leaves the hospital, and the silence between them is strangely comfortable, once his curses die down.)

(A small but ever-growing part of him wonders if he'll like the person he's going to become.

...His mind whispers no. )

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

His companions take him to a huge house just as the sky takes on a warm, pink-orange hue, telling him that they're all going to live there together, and Sooyoung and Jihye rag on him about a 'certain someone' spending all of their savings before they could get the house. They also speak fondly of how Dokja was apparently the one to suggest it in the first place, and even call it his dream, like a timid child asking for their first toy.

(They watch him after they say that, like they expect him to get embarrassed and take it back or something, and maybe he would if he was older. But instead, the words don't come out properly, and tears drip down his face before he even realizes that he's crying, so that shuts all of them up pretty quickly. Jihye doesn't even muster up the heart to call him a crybaby.)

Dokja ends up getting his own room (one he was supposed to share with Yoo Joonghyuk, apparently, until they found out Dokja currently had the mind and body of a fifteen-year-old), but it ends up with everyone staying in his room more often than not in the days to come.

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Han Sooyoung doesn't say much to him at first; he begins to wonder if she doesn't like him.

That goes out the window pretty quickly when it ends up being just them alone. After three days of living in the new house, she apparently shooed everyone else out for the afternoon and offered to take care of him herself, since they had other obligations to take care of that they had been putting off in order to take care of him.

No words are exchanged as Sooyoung suddenly rushes to her room and begins digging in her drawers and cabinets. Just as he's about to ask if she doesn't like kids or if he's too quiet and creepy, she throws a pile of scripts at his face.

"You're a kid, and generally, I don't like kids," she starts, "but everyone else's feedback is shitty and unhelpful, so you're my editor now." Her glare turns slightly manic. "You'd better get some editing done before the kids get back and vandalize my work."

Dokja's face must light up, because Sooyoung gets a genuine, joyous smile on her face in kind. He thinks it's the first smile he's seen from her that doesn't border on threatening, shit-eating, or even condescending.

(Sooyoung ends up being his favorite person to talk with, when she's in a good mood.)

They talk about the scripts, discuss plot points, talk about their favorite tropes (found family is apparently their shared favorite), and some time later, they hear jeering from the doorway of Sooyoung's room.

"Neeeeerds," Jihye and Heewon say, before running away.

Sooyoung flips them off.

She then freezes as if realizing something, and then turns to him and says, "You'd better not tell Sangah I did that or she'll be on my ass about being child friendly."

Dokja stifles a laugh, but nods and gives her a thumbs up.

He gets the shit-eating grin this time, but he finds that it's less menacing than he'd thought. Returning one of his own starts to become even easier.

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

"Help out in the kitchen," Joonghyuk says with his very intimidating voice and stature while holding a kitchen knife. It's more than likely an excuse to keep an eye on him and talk at the same time, considering they haven't actually had a whole conversation yet in their three whole days of living together.

Sooyoung grumbles at the sight of Joonghyuk as she always does, but waves him off, satisfied with the amount of editing done for the day, so Dokja takes the opportunity and wordlessly follows Joonghyuk into the kitchen. He mostly just stirs some things and keeps an eye on the heat, because Joonghyuk won't let him touch a knife. 

(That's fine. Dokja doesn't like holding a knife either. It makes him remember things he feels he shouldn't know; of a mother's love hanging like a noose around his neck, and sins suspended like a guillotine above.

(He hasn't seen his mother in a while. He's not sure if he wants to just yet.)

He thought he'd be more shocked, upon realizing the truth of those foggy memories and the blood on his hands. He isn't, surprisingly enough; it's a sinking feeling rather than a shocking one. As if he's learned this before. Maybe despite his de-aging, he couldn't allow himself to forget his sins.)

"You think too much," Joonghyuk says, breaking his train of thought. "You always have. You're not good at it."

Dokja feels more amusement than actual offense, that the first thing Joonghyuk does to start a conversation is insult him. He doesn't think this feeling would apply to anyone else. "I've heard I did pretty well in the scenarios, though," he says.

" We did, at the expense of you," Joonghyuk responds, and Dokja stills for a second, because everyone else has avoided the topic until now. They tell stories of their love, but never what he has done to deserve such love. "You've saved us many times, at the sacrifice of yourself."

Dokja looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes.

The Demon King of Salvation, he imagines, one who brings salvation, no matter how cruel. He feels a strange sensation as he does: feathers growing from his back, horns growing from his head, eyes throbbing and glowing faint red that he can see reflected in a window. Then looking at that very figure, winged and horned and demonic, towering over himself, with a sword in hand and a white coat like death. Things so foreign, and even more familiar. 

(He opens his eyes and looks down at the soup he was stirring. His eyes in the reflection are black, and there are no horns or wings.)

"A monster," Dokja mutters to himself, but the sound of Joonghyuk's chopping comes to a halt.

"No," the man says quickly, too quickly, "A dreamer, who wanted to dream of a world where he didn't exist."

There's a world of pain and longing in that statement. Dokja thinks that it's probably Joonghyuk who misses his older self the most.

(The dinner is delicious, aside from the partially burned soup, which is Dokja's fault. Joonghyuk shoots him a glare, and he suppresses a shudder.)

(Indeed, the next time Joonghyuk drags him into the kitchen, Dokja lurches at the stench of tomatoes. 

"Damn sunfish," he hisses, then stops. He's not quite sure why it was so instinctual.

The others blink at that, and then break into a laugh. Even Joonghyuk gets a faintly pleased smile on his face, for all that he was just called a sunfish.)

-

He hears a small noise, followed by a message appearing before his eyes, as he goes to sleep that night.

[Story, 'Demon World's Spring,' is looking at you.]

[Story, 'Demon King of Salvation,' is looking at you.]

[Story, 'Companions in Life and Death,' is looking at you.]

He's not sure if he's imagining it, when his fingers look a bit longer the next morning; his hands are just a bit bigger, and the house just a bit smaller. 

(Gilyoung's clothes are also just a bit tighter. They notice without being told, and Sangah and Hyunsung take him shopping the next day.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Somedays, he gets flashes of memory in the form of nightmares. It's not a lot that comes back to him; it's just the subway, actually.

The subway is cold and lonely, and he is alone for an eternity in a maddeningly empty train. He doesn't know what he's doing there or why; just that the sunken white coat hangs on his shoulders like an anchor. Now he knows a little of what they meant, talking about a subway.

(It's not that the nightmares don't hurt, because of course they do. The loneliness slips into him like a stream of water that wears down rock until it cracks.)

But, well, it had been like this for the past fifteen years of his life. Thirteen more years, and the eternity after— they seemed painful, but not daunting. Not unexpected.

(There's already a hole dug out of him; the stream slips through, and wears him down no longer. It just hurts, that's all.)

The thought that they came back for him, all the way back to that lonely subway— is worlds more daunting.

He doesn't think about it when he wakes up. He can't hide his eyebags, but he can pretend they're not about the subway. They do get suspicious, and he knows they can use Lie Detection, but they don't pry in case it really is about something else (like why Sooyoung acts odd when he looks out the window for too long).

Still, the mornings feel warm, and waking up the next day stops feeling like a misfortune. He wonders just when that started to happen. This house always has life, and they arrange their schedules so that it's never just him alone. They give him more love than he could ever know what to do with.

(He can't imagine there's anything he could possibly do, to deserve this much trust. He can't understand where it comes from, and why for him.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

It's not just for him, though. It's for them, too. He comes to realize that, when Yoosung and Gilyoung sometimes wake up in cold sweat and rush over to his room with frantic footsteps thumping on the floorboards. (He pretends to be asleep when they do.)

They need to get close enough to hear him breathe before they let go of their own held breath. Somedays, they even end up sleeping on the same bed, and rush to leave in the morning before he wakes up.

(They frequently fail to do the latter. Dokja doesn't let them know that.)

It's not just the kids, though. They all act like the next time they check his room, he will have vanished without a trace. Sangah stands next to the door but doesn't look in, Heewon paces the hall, Hyunsung peeks in and breathes a sigh of relief before walking back, Jihye shoots a glance and then runs , and Sooyoung often just comes in and falls asleep on the chair. (She does manage to leave before he wakes up, somehow.)

Even Yoo Joonghyuk, and especially Yoo Joonghyuk, to the point that he needs to place a hand on Dokja's wrist to feel his pulse.

(Dokja's heart has probably stopped beating many times before. 

It didn't seem all that scary, when he lunged for the window.

The thought of it happening now is suddenly scarier than he'd ever imagined. The scariest thing in the world; but not because of what would happen to him.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

They start taking turns having afternoon naps with him on the couch— Dokja doesn't mind. The extra sleep helps make up the hours he can't get during the night, when the house is just too quiet. The ones who get the most turns are Joonghyuk and Sooyoung, much to the protest of Gilyoung and Yoosung.

Dokja sleeps peacefully with them there, but he's also 1) very easy to wake, and 2) good at pretending to be asleep.

And so it happens once, that Sooyoung wakes up in a bad mood, when no one else is around. He keeps his eyes closed, but he can feel Sooyoung staring at him.

"You fucking idiot," she hisses through her teeth, and then a hand cards through his hair. "Why would you imagine an ending where everyone can be happy except you?"

He suppresses a flinch and, very carefully, pretends to wake up, opening his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, as if he has no idea.

"Hey," she says. Her voice is strained, and her eyes are tired. "You know we love you, yeah?"

He blinks.

"Yeah," the words slip out more easily than he thought they would. (Than they ever have before.) "I love you guys too."

She pulls him into a hug, which surprises him.

"I won't deny, it's hard," she says, and breaks into a ramble. "It's so, so hard to reel in years of friendship and adventures and jokes, when we see you. I know it hurts you too, when we talk about things you don't know or understand."

His mouth goes dry. (He thought he did a good job of hiding it.) 

She pulls back, just for a moment, to look him in the eyes.

Sooyoung stares at him with an intensity that he takes a while to fit into words. A warning, he thinks. It's a warning, to not underestimate the years of friendship they have, even if he does not yet know, believe, or understand.

 She continues on.

"Did you know? I incited the destruction of this world, with my very own hands, and that's just the start of it." Her voice shakes a little. He pretends not to hear it. "We, all of us, have torn down the sky and stars, to be able to have a happy ending with you in it. And we'd do it again, to keep you here with us." 

She sighs, hugging tighter. "Stop burdening yourself with trying to hurry things. You're here, and you're going to be happy this time. That's what we're waiting for."

"...okay," he says lamely, closing his eyes. It's enough to satisfy her. So they let go, and fall back asleep.

-

It happens once, that he wakes up to Joonghyuk in a bad mood as well.

"Stop thinking everything is your fault," Joonghyuk says with no explanation. They haven't exchanged any words other than that.

(He's still right on the money. Dokja doesn't yet know what he's done to feel guilty for. He just knows that guilt follows him like his own shadow.)

"It was my choice to start again," he says. " Our choice to start again, just to find you."

They both know he's talking about things he doesn't yet remember; but it has come back slowly, in recent days.

"What does '1 8 6 4' mean?" Dokja asks. He says it like an offhand question, but he knows there's deeper meaning behind why that number lingers in his mind.

"...I have lived the same life a total of 1866 times," Joonghyuk replies after some hesitation, and continues when Dokja remains silent. "It took 1864 turns to see the conclusion. 1865, to get here."

"Was it painful?" Dokja asks.

"Yes." The reply is flat and devoid of anything that might betray an emotion.

He bites the bullet. "...Did I cause that?" 

Joonghyuk places his hands on Dokja's shoulders and looks him dead in the eyes.

"I chose this," he says. "Even after the 1864 turns before, even from 0, I chose to go again. I chose you."

Dokja doesn't have the words or energy to sort out his thoughts or speak past the lump in his throat. He doesn't say another word.

"Sleep," Joonghyuk says, and pulls Dokja to his shoulder. He lets himself lean into the contact, and they both fall back asleep.

-

(He begins to notice that, really, it's not only those two. They're just the worst at hiding it, and the most willing to talk about it.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Dokja suggests during dinner that all of them sleep in the living room together. No one objects. They look relieved, actually, like it would save them hours of sleep.

They lay plenty of mats and blankets down, and everyone falls asleep just about as soon they settle in place, much more easily than he would have thought.

Upon waking up, Yoosung grumbles about Gilyoung stealing the blankets, Gilyoung snarks back about Yoosung hogging the pillows, Jihye yells about someone's snoring (they've never figured out whose), Heewon complains about the pool of sweat she wakes up in, Hyunsung murmurs about cramped space, Sooyoung curses Joonghyuk for somehow kicking her in the middle of the night (despite them being on opposite sides of the mat???), and Joonghyuk vows to never do this again.

He and Sangah stand off to the side, quiet and relatively content. Personally, Dokja's complaints are none of the above. He's right in the middle of them all, and it's perhaps the most crowded, but somehow it's still the best sleep he's had in years.

(They end up sleeping there again, on the night after the next, and eventually they don't even bother cleaning it up.)

-

He dreams of a 0th turn, on one of the nights they all sleep in the living room together. It's guided, happy, and much more simple than the rest.

He hasn't yet read the story Sooyoung talks about so often, a work she is both hateful and proud of, but he gets the feeling that the one he dreamt up was the one he had wanted to see in the first place.

(Yet, the world he was living in now was the one they wanted to see.)

When he wakes up, he's grown quite a bit. Jihye gripes about no longer being able to call him short, due to him having just barely surpassed her in height, but she looks content about it anyway.

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

(They call themselves his family; all of them do. A part of him bridles and says that can't be accurate; he doesn't remember kindness or warmth or patience ever coming from people he called family. But his house had been empty for so long he doesn't think he remembers what family feels like, anyway.

He never really did, so maybe this is what family is supposed to feel like.)

-

[Story, 'One Who is Loved By All,' is looking at you.]

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Jihye pushes a sword into his hands one day, telling him that he should learn how to fight (despite that the apocalypse is already over). She insists that swords are cool (which is unhelpful), and that it may help his memories return faster. 

Dokja obliges and takes the sword, despite his better judgement. (His impatience is rising these days, as the stories draw closer. As they observe. His companions have done nothing but wait. He wants to let them have back the person they're waiting for.)

His fingers curl around the hilt of the sword like they're supposed to be there; like his uncalloused, small hands still remember things he doesn't.

It's a harrowing experience. Because even if he now knows love, Dokja does not remember wielding a sword, or throwing a punch, or fighting at all. Just living life like sleepwalking and getting beat up, day after day. He swings, underestimates the weight of the sword, falls forward, and ends up nearly eviscerating himself right before Heewon and Sangah's eyes.

They yell at Jihye a lot and take the sword away soon after. 

But they stare at the sword for a bit too long before putting out of reach, and settle for telling stories about it instead. They tell him how it's the same sword he's used since near the beginning, and that when the blade broke (they don't elaborate how) they had it fixed as soon as possible.

(They tell him that the sword's name is 'Unbroken Faith.')

(It's just a name, but it awes him to have held something like that in his hands.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

There's a reason that they don't let him answer the door, despite that they don't often get visitors in the first place. He knows who it is, that comes briefly, but never steps inside.

(Keeps space between them, like prison bars.)

The dam breaks without warning one day, when he hears her voice at the door.

It rings, and hurts his head, and he has thoughts of resentment and hate, and why, why did you turn our lives into a story for the world to read?

But he remembers now, and he knows, that it was the only way to make it so that he was 'the murderer's child,' and not 'the murderer,' of his old man and abuser who didn't mean a damn thing to him.

"I did it. I'm the one who used the knife, okay, Dokja?"

He runs to the door, startling Sangah, who is the one answering, and pushes the door open.

And standing there is Lee Sookyung.

"Mother," he says, out of breath and teary-eyed, and his words lock up.

He finds that he can still call her family. Because in the end, she had cared. And really, they were the same, weren't they? Bringing about cruel salvation from too-powerful love.

"Dokja," she says, and silence drops between them. (Yoo Sangah wipes away at tears of her own, and motions for her to come inside.)

"...I'm sorry," Sookyung says slowly, and begins to cry.

-

(She ends up coming over more often, earlier in the day, from then on. She recites to him a lot of things about a one certain story, that he had loved and talked about endlessly to her, once upon a time.

"Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World," the novel is called, and it's the first clue he has.)

He scours the house after that, searching for something specific, and it's a bit breathtaking when he actually finds it. Hidden deep in the back of the wardrobe in his room is a neatly folded white coat, and a phone with a cracked screen inside the pocket.

He doesn't read the file— strangely enough, he doesn't want to, at least not yet.

(He wants to remember it on his own.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

It's on a whim that he decides he wants to hear more stories from them himself, so he asks, when everyone is relaxing in the living room.

One story they like to tell is about a fight for a throne; one of selfishness and kings, only for someone to declare, "I'm not going to sit on a throne for subjects as shitty as you, and I'm not going to let anyone else, either."

(Half of him gapes a little. The other half nods.)

Sooyoung overhears at some point and brags about having that very same story, earned from a different world-line.

Gilyoung jumps in and yells at Sooyoung, "Hey! You stole the 'Demon King of Salvation' modifier that time!" Yoosung nods from behind him, looking a bit jealous herself.

Sooyoung sticks her tongue out at him and blows a raspberry.

(Dokja feels strangely embarrassed. He thinks he's starting to feel like how his older self does. 

The warmth and love start to feel less comfortable, and less easy to return, as he steadily pieces together the things he's done. The actions he's taken, the marks he's left on worlds of people, the guilt and loathing— 

But he's here, because they wanted him to be here.

Because they wanted him to be in their happy ending.)

He smiles as they bicker and tell more stories. It doesn't reach his eyes, he can tell. He's not sure of the last time one of his smiles has.

-

[Story, 'King of a Kingless World,' is looking at you.]

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

[You told something to the younger me, once,] Biyoo says, and her view drifts over to where Yoosung is playing with Gilyoung by the window. They're looking over Sooyoung's writing together while she's out at her teaching job, and Biyoo is perched on his head.

['I chose you over Seoul. I don't regret it.']

Dokja's eyes widen. The words ring in his head with familiarity, as if he can hear them echoing in his voice.

[And, you know? I think I had been waiting for a long time to hear something like that from Captain. I was bitter, that for thousands of years, I couldn't have even a single sentence like that.]

"It must've been lonely," he says absentmindedly.

[...I killed you,] she says suddenly, and Dokja startles, before forcing himself to relax.

[I killed you,] she continues, [and yet, you came back, and refused to kill me until you were forced to. And even then, even then, you brought me back.]

"...I kept you waiting for a long time, didn't I?" he says.

[It's enough,] she says, and Dokja freezes. [Father. You, your love, and everything you do— even just by being here— you're more than enough.]

He swallows the argument that rises in his throat. It takes a few moments of silence for him to form a response. "Thank you," he says instead.

Biyoo looks pleased at that, and they continue reading over the script together.

-

[Story, 'Father of a Dokkaebi,' is looking at you.]

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

"Hyung, are you sure you don't remember anything yet?" Gilyoung says, puppy eyes at full power. Dokja withers a bit, definitely, but his situation isn't one he can control.

"Be reasonable!" Yoosung says. "It's been three months since Ahjussi woke up, but he had thirteen years to grow through before the scenarios even started!"

Truthfully, Dokja doesn't think she has any idea if that's actually how it works, but he thinks it makes enough sense, so he goes along with it.

He shoots a glance down at Biyoo, currently snug in his arms. She shrugs back at him, but smiles like she knows and just doesn't want to tell.

(Evidently, she is his daughter. It's both frustrating and adorable at the same time.)

Dokja's body has grown a considerable amount from his fifteen-year old self (to around twenty-eight, if he had to guess by looks alone), meaning right before the scenarios should start in his memory. (Strangely enough, the "Ways of Survival" novel hasn't yet returned to his memory. It bothers him, to think that such a huge part of him has not yet come to him, but part of him thinks it's better this way for now; that he doesn't default to thinking of his family as characters in a story.)

Gilyoung can't hide his disappointment anytime Dokja has grown a little taller but remembers little to nothing more. Yoosung tells him to stop being a baby each time it happens. Even still, it never stops them both from looking dejected.

(Actually, Hyunsung also does the same, until Heewon drags him away and tells him to be patient. It's amusing to watch in their case, really.)

He reaches over to ruffle their hair before he realizes it. At some point in his head, 'the kids' had become 'his kids.'

"I'll do what I can," he says, uncertain, but determined.

They beam at him like he hung the moon, and he thinks that maybe he's a little bit more of the person he used to be.

"Hyung! C'mon, you're almost back to yourself, so I can show you Titano and you won't be freaked out, right?"

"Hey, obviously the Chimera Dragon is way cooler!"

"Why don't you show him a squid," Jihye interjects. "See if he can tell the difference between one and himself."

They glare murder at her.

Jihye soon has a horde of animals and insects chasing her for a whole 20 minutes. They also threaten to cry if she kills any of them, to which Jihye heatedly yells that she couldn't care less. 

At that point, Biyoo decides to contribute by issuing a sub-scenario so that Jihye can't kill them, and Jihye curses Biyoo's name.

"Kids," he says slowly.

Gilyoung, Yoosung, and Biyoo all turn to him with sparkling eyes, as if expecting praise.

Dokja breathes a long suffering sigh.

(He really, really loves his kids.)

-

"You were cuter as a kid," Jihye pouts.

"You were more respectable when I was a kid," he snipes back.

Somehow, all other occupants of their house start to look emotional when he says that. He very nearly backtracks, wondering if that sounded offensive in any way (or if they're just mourning the loss of the child version of himself), until they break out in shit-eating grins that they most likely learned from him.

He feels more comfortable in his own skin, these days.

(Joonghyuk's smile specifically makes his heart hammer in his chest, and despite the memory loss, it's so familiar. Dokja looks away, because he just turned mentally twenty-eight, and he is not dealing with this shit today.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

So help him, that's also around the time he starts to realize exactly how much he pays attention to Joonghyuk's features and habits, only to realize that they're things he already knows.

The odd way he drags his sword on the ground when he's happy; the way his rude and abrupt speech is surprisingly eloquent the longer he talks; the patch of gray peeking through in his black hair, due to the 'Lived Life to the Fullest' Attribute (how does he remember that???); and the most obvious thing being his muscles.

(The thirteen years of admiration and spiritual attachment that he somehow remembers do not help.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Somehow, it takes him way too long to realize what it meant that he and Joonghyuk were originally supposed to share a room. No matter what anyone says, he blames that on his regressed mental age. He dearly hopes it won't ever become relevant.

(Evidently, it becomes relevant.)

It starts when they make fun of him for a one certain incident they like to call 'the Garter Belt incident.' Persephone apparently thinks it would be funny to gift a Chinese dress and garter belt to the house, and as soon as they open it, Heewon does not stop laughing.

"Oh my god," she says between wheezes. "I'm so glad I can laugh at you for this now that you're old enough, holy shit,"

Hyunsung tries (and fails) to disguise his laughing under a lot of coughing. Dokja really wishes he would stop, because it sounds concerning more than anything else.

Jihye laughs in his face very loudly. He'd thought that she would have looked more disgusted than amused, considering how she allegedly reacted to the first incident, but maybe it's the sheer confusion on Dokja's face that she finds hilarious, because Dokja does not understand a damn thing that is happening right now.

Sangah continues to smile sweetly, as she always does. (He can tell that she's also laughing at him, secretly.)

Sooyoung sucks on a lemon-flavored lollipop, most definitely aware that it does absolutely nothing to hide her smirk.

(He doesn't dare look in Joonghyuk's direction.)

"Look," Dokja says. They're all laughing at him so hard that the heat is getting to his face. 

"Look, " he tries again. "I literally do not remember."

"Hey, Ahjussi is allowed to have tastes too!" Yoosung defends him proudly, and Dokja puts his face in his hands.

Dokja loves his kids dearly. They're also making this ten times worse.

"That's right!" Gilyoung says. "And besides, more than that, Hyung likes the sooty b—"

He gets smothered with a pillow by Heewon, who whisper-shouts, "No, you have to let him figure it out himself!"

Dokja knows exactly who "sooty bastard" refers to, despite what they seem to think. That's also what prompts him to remember: the memory of a different, very unfortunate incident came to him just the other day.

("Incarnation 'Kim Dokja' will be killed by the one he loves the most.")

(He also very clearly remembers Joonghyuk's sword through his chest being the finishing blow.)

Now, he doesn't actually think much of it himself. He was the one who made them do it, after all; they were the ones who really got hurt. So no, he is not about to ruin their mood by mentioning that, despite the deeply mortifying situation he is currently in.

"....…he has Seolhwa," is what comes out of his mouth after a bunch of mumbling, because for the life of him he can't think of what to say.

They stop cold.

"You knew?!"

"That's why you didn't make a fucking move?!"

"For real?!"

Dokja takes a deep breath. He composes himself easily, when he doesn't need to worry about depressing them. The mortification is worth averting a heavy atmosphere in the room, surprisingly.

"Firstly, yes, I'm not that unaware of my own feelings. Secondly, no, that was because I hadn't expected to meet again before I woke up with the brain of a child. Thirdly, I don't know, I'm kind of radiating denial right now." 

"Kim Dokja,"

Dear lord, it's Joonghyuk's voice. It absolutely does not help that the others huddle together on the couch, perfectly silent, like they're watching a key dramatic scene in a movie.

Please don't use Lie Detection or some shit, he prays.

After three seconds, he finally brings himself to look up.

"Wh—"

He doesn't get a single word out before Joonghyuk's mouth closes over his.

-

Uriel, who happened to let herself in the house and walked in on that moment, breaks into shrieking that she can die happy now, and whips out her phone to take pictures.

Sooyoung's mouth is in the shape of an 'O,' before she gives them a thumbs-up.

Heewon breaks into hysterical laughter at Dokja's face, and the rest of them remain silent with starlit eyes.

"Uh, Dokja?"

He's not sure how many seconds ago he last breathed.

"Okay, seriously, this is hilarious, but no," Sooyoung says, pushing Joonghyuk away from him, much to Uriel's protests. "Move. We are not letting him die like this. Dokja, breathe."

-

(They had planned to all sleep in the living room that night. Dokja decides that sleeping in his room for today is better for his health.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

Dokja wakes up the next morning, and somehow, he is whole.

(The power of companionship, he can already hear Uriel chanting. She may not be far off, honestly. 

Even back in the subway, there was a gap that couldn't be bridged without the presence of just one person— maybe it was something like that. A chain of scattered stories and memories, that just couldn't be connected without his love for one person; one protagonist.)

 

⋆✧✶★⋆✷⋆☆⋆✦⋆

 

"Joonghyuk-ah," he calls, leaning over them, standing in front of their dogpile of a sleeping space in the living room. Apparently he was the first one awake today.

"Oh, shut up and go be lovey-dovey in your room," Sooyoung mutters, half-asleep and rubbing at her eyes. Dokja chuckles at that.

"Sure, sure. Just wanted to let you know that I'm finally home."

"What the hell does that— wait—" Sooyoung says, and practically flips herself over in half a second. 

She bumps Hyunsung and Heewon into each other— they butt heads and awake with groans. The shifting causes Yoosung to wake and sit up, who freezes and jostles Gilyoung next to her, waking up Jihye by extension of Gilyoung's whining. Yoo Sangah is already rubbing away the sleep in her eyes to stare at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

And in the middle is the man he loves (who woke as soon as he was called), staring at him in astonishment. (It's a strange face that doesn't quite fit him, but Dokja finds it charming regardless— what a fool he is, for stories and love.) Every single one of them freezes as they see him.

Horns growing from his head, wings from his back, eyes glinting red, a coat as white as death, and his phone tight in hand.

Genuine joy bubbles up in him as he sees their shocked expressions; as more forgotten feelings are uncovered. It makes him break into a smile.

"I'm home," he says again.

(He gets tackled to the floor in a hug with a resounding thud

It's the warmest he's felt in thousands of years.)

-

Remember when I used to be you, he thinks, of himself who fell from the window. Of himself, who dreamed for eternity on that train.

He likes this world the most, he decides. 

It's the one that taught him how to love, and be loved.

 

Notes:

It's done!!!

Fhfjjs hopefully the romance wasn't too shoehorned in, it was written on a whim and tbh I don't write romance that often

I may not have proofread this properly so...rip

I couldn't resist throwing in some song lyrics,,,
Anyway, hope you enjoyed! If you have a particular scene or line you liked, please comment ♡

----------

Certain scenes in this fic were heavily inspired by LostOnMyRoad's fic: ascension, love, and the ever present pull-and-push! Go read it :D

Additionally, the bit about Gilyoung and Yoosung trying to squeeze onto the bed with kid Dokja was inspired by the beginning of this fic: world's end rhapsody