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A sharp knock at the door spooked Minho out of his sleep. Groggily, he groaned and pulled the duvet over his head, hoping that whoever was there would just go away.
Another rattle against the wood told him that wasn’t going to happen. With a heavy sigh, he peeled himself out of bed and shuffled over with a scowl.
“Can I help you?” He muttered as he angrily swung open the door, the hinges creaking loudly as he did so. To his surprise, a small boy no older than four was stood outside.
They stared at each other for a few moments, and he swore he recognised this kid. Eventually, the child spoke up, “Sorry mister, but can you give me the ball?”
Minho blinked, “Huh?”
The child tilted his head, “The ball. I want it.”
Minho took a deep breath and scanned over the boy’s head, looking out for any sign of his parents, “Look, kid, I don’t have a ‘ball’. So you can scram- hey!”
In the brief moment he had looked away, the child had simply walked past him into his small cabin. “You can’t come in here! Where’s your mum? Or dad? Or- what are you doing?” Minho hissed.
The boy was on his hands and knees, peering under a table, and he ignored Minho completely.
Minho pinched the bridge of his nose, shut the door, then marched over to the boy. With his other hand, he grabbed the back of his shirt collar and yanked him off the floor, “Don’t ignore me, shank!”
The boy squeaked as his feet left the ground, but he started to smile as he heard Minho speak, “Hey, my dad says that word too!”
Minho glared at the boy, “And who’s that then huh? Because I’ll be needing to have words with him about your manners.”
“Gaga is my dad,” The boy started flailing his arms, “put me down!”
Minho planted the boy on his rickety old chair, “Gaga? Uh.. who’s your mum?”
The boy huffed and crossed his arms, “I just want ball!”
“I don’t have your shucking ball. Answer my question, who’s your mum?”
“Brenda. I think. That’s what grandpa calls her.” The boy shrugged, kicking his legs absentmindedly.
Minho’s heart slowed down. He did know this kid. “Oh.. so you are…”
The boy looked at Minho dead in the face, saw the spark of human emotion in his eyes, and smiled, “Chuck! My dad says it’s a really cool name actually. What’s yours?”
Minho couldn’t respond as the pieces slotted together in his mind. This boy was Brenda’s kid, and was he called..then that meant his dad was definitely…
“Mister?”
Minho shook his head and forced out a small smile, “My bad. Do you not remember me? I’m Minho.” He swallowed, his eyes sinking to the floor.
Guilt was starting to hit him. Since getting to the Haven, since sewing a so called “life” together, he had barely even seen any of his friends. It was mostly to do with the fact he still contemplated if this was all real every single day, but deep down that was just an excuse now.
Sure, he was worried if he felt happy then he’d wake up back in his cell so he pushed people away, but one person he pushed out over and over again, and then he got jealous when they settled elsewhere.
Gally.
He had basically rejected Gally. He had shut him out, refusing to accept that he was alive and well again. And, after a few months, Gally got with Brenda and never looked back.
Looking at him now, the boy sat in his house had grown to look like the spitting image of Gally, just smaller and happier. Minho felt sick. He had isolated himself so much, to the point that he couldn’t even recognise his own friend’s kid at first.
Realising the child was waiting patiently for him to do something, Minho stuffed his hands into his pockets and slumped onto his bed, “Why’re you looking here for a ball?”
Chuck hopped off of the chair and pointed to a wall, “I kicked it and it went to window there.”
Minho, trying to make sense of what Chuck was saying, followed his gaze and saw that he had left one of his windows wide open.
“Right. Keep looking then I guess.” Minho leant forwards and stared blankly at his feet.
“Thank you mis- Minho!” Chuck gave him a big toothy grin and started scouring the floor with the concentration of a seasoned soldier.
After a few minutes, Chuck tugged a half-deflated ball out from underneath one of Minho’s shelves by the window, “Found it! Oh..” the child frowned as it deflated further in his hands.
Minho watched how his face fell, resembling Gally all too well, and he stood up slowly, “That sucks. Uhm, I think Jorge- eh, your grandad has a pump thing. Want me to take you to him?”
“Grandpa,” Chuck corrected, “and yes please!”
Minho cracked a smile, “Okay. C’mon son.” He trudged to the door, opened it, then put a hand on Chuck’s shoulder and led him out.
The late afternoon sun hit Minho’s face as the door slammed behind him and he shielded his eyes. He hadn’t left his hut in almost a week, relying on Frypan’s fortnightly delivery of groceries.
Chuck walked quietly alongside him for the short journey, but Minho could tell he was desperate to talk. “What?” He finally mumbled, running a hand through his unkempt hair.
“Are you a vampire?”
“..Huh? How do you even know about stuff like that? You’re, what, three? Four?”
Chuck beamed, “You’re using your hand to hide from the sun! Uncle Thomas said Vampires don’t like the sun. He likes scary stories. Do you know werewolves? Uncle Thomas told me about them too!”
Minho could only shut his eyes and shake his head. Of course Thomas would tell a small child things like that.
“No I’m not a vampire.”
“Aw, okay. How do you know grandpa?”
Minho shrugged one of his shoulders, “I met him when I was kid and he helped me and my friends get here.”
“Woah, so is he like a superhero? Mummy told me he can drive a spaceship!”
“..Something like that, yeah.”
Fortunately, they arrived at Jorge’s door before Chuck could ask any more questions. Chuck went to knock but Minho just opened the door, he knew Jorge was always happy to have visitors no matter the time.
Jorge and Frypan were actually the only two people Minho saw more than once a month, and he was grateful for them. Frypan made sure he was taking care of himself and Jorge occasionally invited himself in for a chat.
Minho actually felt slightly pleased with himself as he walked Chuck into Jorge’s mismatched house. He was the one visiting this time, and he knew that Jorge would be proud of him for that.
“Hello?” A familiar voice came from the next room.
Chuck jumped up and down and rushed ahead, “Grandpa!”
Minho hurried a bit and ducked his head into the room Jorge was in just in time to see Chuck run up and hug him excitedly.
“My- hello hermano! What are you doing here?- Minho?” Jorge hugged Chuck back as the small boy climbed until his lap, and his eyes widened as Minho made himself visible.
“Hi. We want your help with something.” Minho said simply, bowing his head.
“For sure, what is it?” Jorge focused on Chuck and shook his shoulders jokingly.
Chuck giggled as he was pushed back and forth, and he held up the now fully deflated ball, “Ball is gone. Minho says you have a pump?”
Jorge nodded slowly, “Hm, I think I do in fact.” He pushed his wheely chair backwards across the ground with Chuck still in his lap, and he started to rummage through some drawers.
Meanwhile, Minho leant against the wall and silently admired Jorge’s house. Unlike the rest of the safe haven huts, Jorge had incorporated metal walls and many electric lights into his home, giving it an almost rustic look.
Rusted car parts, bolts and screws filled up every corner and some mechanical objects were hanging from the ceiling.
Unexpectedly, someone else spoke to Minho’s right, “Jorge, for the last time- can you make the bed when you get up in the morning? It’s driving me nuts!”
Minho turned his head and saw a person step into the room holding two mugs.
“Shit, I didn’t know we had visitors.” Vince froze, his eyes flicking from Chuck to Minho.
“Language!” Jorge shushed him, making Chuck laugh.
Minho stared at Vince, then at Jorge, “Wait.. you two live together?”
“Have done for the last two years. Glad you noticed.” Vince rolled his eyes, striding across the room to set the mugs down on Jorge’s desk.
Even though Minho’s mind was full blown lost, he also wasn’t surprised. That made him even more confused.
“Sorry, would you and Chuck like a drink too?” Vince smiled and stretched, cracking his neck.
Minho declined politely, “No it’s okay, we’re just here to get Chuck’s ball fixed.” He nodded towards Jorge who was pumping air into the ball as Chuck hopped up and down and clapped his hands.
Vince watched them for a couple of moments before he looked back at Minho with an unreadable expression, “When did you meet Chuck? I don’t remember seeing you at..well, anything.” Vince’s voice trailed off.
Minho’s mouth went dry and he rubbed the back of his neck, his voice becoming a low whisper, “I mean.. I was with Brenda when he was born. And I was there at his..uh, second birthday. Yeah.”
Vince’s eyes hardened, “Oh.” Still, he patted Minho on the back in an almost parental way, “So have you not seen Bren and Gally for a while I’m guessing?”
Minho gripped the hem of his shirt, his knuckles going white, “Six months at least.”
“Christ.” Vince exhaled slowly, “Well then maybe it’s time you talked to one of ‘em. Remember, you all saved each other’s asses back then, it’s no good growing apart now.”
“It’s a bit late for that I think.” Minho shifted his weight from foot to foot.
A ball rolling to Minho’s feet ended the conversation there. Chuck thanked Jorge and dashed over to the ball, picking it up and shoving it at Minho’s folded arms. “He did it!”
“That’s great kid.” Minho stood up straight, “Should we leave your.. grandads to have their drinks in peace now?”
“Grandpa and grandad.” Chuck stomped his foot, a bit annoyed that Minho couldn’t grapple the word ‘grandpa’.
“Sure, yeah, whatever.” Minho waved him off and headed to the door, but quickly added, “Thanks Jorge.”
“No problem hermano.” Jorge winked.
Chuck bounded out of the house, bouncing the ball happily as Minho trailed slowly behind him. Minho was about to head back to his hut but looked around and saw that the sun was already setting.
“Wanna lead me to your house, son? I’ll walk you back.” Minho murmured, tugging Chuck’s sleeve gently.
“Down there! We are neighbours with Uncle Thomas. Oh and the kitchen is close so I get to see Panpan in the morning!”
Minho’s brows furrowed, “Panpan?..Frypan.” He mumbled inaudibly. Minho couldn’t tear his eyes away from Chuck. His mannerisms were the exact same as Gally’s, and he hated the fact he knew that.
Chuck slowed down, opting to try and dribble his ball along the floor, so Minho was left to knock at the door.
His knuckles hovered right before they touched the hard surface, anxiety seeping into his veins. Once, twice, three times. Every time his fingers met the wood felt like being burned.
Brenda answered after a few seconds and Minho saw her body immediately lose tension as she saw Chuck. “Oh my- Chuck! Where’ve you been? We’ve been worried sick!”
She put a hand on her forehead and leant heavily against the doorframe. She didn’t even register that it was Minho who has brought him until Chuck looked up at him.
“I kicked ball into Minho’s house and it bursted to he took me to grandpa’s house and it’s fixed. Look!” Chuck held the ball up proudly for Brenda to see.
“That’s lovely darling,” Brenda’s eyes flicked to Minho and didn’t leave, “Chuckie can you go inside? I need to talk to Minho for a minute.”
“Okay mummy,” Chuck waddled in, but stole one last glance at Minho, “thank you Minho!”
Minho smiled down at him, “Anytime kid.”
As soon as Chuck left earshot, Brenda’s face contorted from worried to disoriented to relieved. “God, Minho. This is how we meet, after how long?”
Minho rubbed his hands together awkwardly, “Sorry. Been a bit messed up, y’know?” He tapped at his temple jokingly.
Brenda’s lip trembled as she put a hand over her heart, then she dived forwards and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, “I’ve missed you, you.. idiot.”
Minho patted her back, slightly taken aback by the sudden physical contact. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hug. Brenda pulled away and gripped his arms, “I’m sorry about Chuck, he’s a handful.”
“No it’s alright,” Minho huffed, “he’s a good kid. A lot of attitude though.”
“Tom says he just takes after me and Gally too much, and I can’t disagree there!”
A sour taste filled Minho’s mouth. “Hah. True.” Another thing settled in his mind, he hadn’t seen Thomas in forever either. The last time they’d spoken was probably about Newt. Was Thomas ‘better’ now? Was he still grieving?
He had missed out on so much thinking about it, and it was technically his fault. After a few small breakdowns and the news of Gally and Brenda’s partnership, he had requested to be left alone for a few days.
A few days turned into a few months, then a shucking few years. Frypan was the only one who really ignored his request, coming around with food whenever he felt like it.
The others had respected his wishes. Jorge had only started coming around to check if he was still stable.
“Are you well? We have a lot to talk about. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out, but Jorge kept reminding us you didn’t want to.. socialise.” Brenda laughed nervously.
Minho scoffed, “So he was passing on my messages. He just told me I was stupid and that I should talk to people.”
“He’s right y’know. You look like a completely different person now, Minho.” Brenda looked him up and down slowly.
Minho winced, but didn’t argue, “I should go back now, but take care.”
Brenda’s face fell slightly, but she nodded with a small smile, “Sure. You too.”
Minho couldn’t sleep that night. So many thoughts were swirling around in his head. He had spent a few days sleeping and moping around, then boom- suddenly Gally’s kid was old enough to walk and talk now, and he had met him almost formally.
He didn’t realise the sun had risen until heavy footsteps crunched outside. Rain- when had it started raining?- beat down mercilessly on his roof and windows, so he almost didn’t catch it when that same person knocked on his door.
Minho groggily sat up, who on earth was up at this hour in a storm?? He stumbled across the room, still half asleep, and cracked the door open, “Hello?”
He froze.
Gally was stood outside with a sheepish smile, no umbrella or coat in sight. “For shuck’s sake.” Minho groaned, opening the door fully. He ushered Gally inside and watched him disapprovingly as his wet boots left marks on the floor.
Gally turned to him, looking nervous, “Morning.”
Minho looked him up and down, “So? Why the hell are you here?”
“What’s up with you, huh? Not happy to see me?” Gally had the audacity to smirk as he folded his arms.
Minho rolled his eyes, muttering profanities under his breath, and he pointed towards his bathroom, “Go grab a towel you slinthead.”
“‘K.” Gally walked past him casually, slipping in and out of the bathroom like it was second nature. Minho was still not happy by his sudden appearance.
“Why are you here?” He repeated.
Gally sighed, scrubbing his hair with the towel, “I wanted to say thanks, for looking out for Chuck. He seriously has no social awareness.”
“Takes after you.” Minho deadpanned, “And you think coming into my house soaking wet at stupid o’clock in the morning is a good way to show your gratitude?”
Gally draped the towel over his shoulders, “You let me in.”
Minho glared at him and murmured something like yeah well I don’t want you and your one lung to catch chlamydia, then dropped into a chair away from him.
And of course, Gally moved closer, “Why are you so grouchy? Did I do something?”
Minho wanted to yell out at him. That, “Yes! You didn’t wait for me and ran off to knock up Brenda!” but he couldn’t, because it was technically his fault for locking him out of his heart all that time ago.
“No. I’m just like this. Thought you’d gathered that already.” Sarcasm dripped from Minho’s voice. He just wanted Gally to read his mind somehow.
Gally stared down at him for a few moments, then solemnly took the seat opposite him. “Uh.. how’ve you been then?”
“Small talk, really?”
Gally’s jaw clenched, “Tch, well I’m sorry that I’m trying to talk to you and be friendly.”
Minho groaned, his fingers drumming against his knee, “Fine, sorry. Just stressed.”
Gally kicked back in the chair, “About what?”
He wasn’t taking any of the hints to leave, and Minho glowered at him. Then, his heart caught in his throat, because Brenda was right.
Minho hadn’t been paying any attention to Gally’s face before, but sitting this close to him made it unavoidable. Gally had grown out an extended goatee, or even a ‘balbo’.
And holy shit was Brenda absolutely correct, Gally looked fucking dashing. To stop his body from turning to mush, Minho glanced away sharply and bore his eyes into the floor.
“Minho?”
Minho grit his teeth, “Life? I don’t know! Look-“ he rubbed his face tiredly with his hands, “please don’t interrogate me, not now.”
An uneasy quiet settled over them, and Minho could see Gally fidgeting restlessly with his hands from the corner of his eye.
Gally exhaled through his nose, “Me and Bren broke it off.”
Minho’s mind stilled, his hands going clammy. “What?”
Gally nodded to no one in particular, “I mean it’s good we had a kid ‘n all, keeping the population going as Vince said, but it was never going to work.”
Minho slowly sat up straighter as Gally continued.
“There’s no bad blood, obviously. We still share that house and we coparent really well- hey, I was out all evening yesterday looking for Chuck and she found me and told me he’d been with you.”
Gally met Minho’s gaze, his voice going softer, “I just thought you should know.”
Minho hated the fact that this information was making him feel secretly relieved, because Brenda was like a little sister to him. But that look in Gally’s eyes? It was practically a swift kick to the back of his knees.
Minho’s brain couldn’t spit out words fast enough, “Well, fuck. Jorge didn’t tell me any of that.”
Gally smiled weakly, “Me and Bren kinda just act the same as before, neither of us are really romantics, so it’s all been a bit forgotten. I don’t even think a lot of people even knew we were together in the first place.”
Minho wanted to say something, but how was he supposed to respond to any of this?
Gally looked towards his window, rubbing his hands together for a bit of warmth, “I think Bren’s got something for Fry if I’m honest. I think they’d be good together, y’know?”
Minho hummed in agreement. That’s all he could manage physically. Gally’s eyes then returned to him, this time filled with something different. Maybe it was guilt.
“Minho,” that one word felt good to hear from Gally, but Minho didn’t like where this was going, “I think I got with the wrong person. Accidentally.”
Minho tapped his foot on the floor rapidly, failing miserably to calm himself, “How do you mess up something like that?” His voice came out smaller than he had intended.
Gally stared him down, and all the hairs on the back of Minho’s head stood up. “You were in a bad place when we first got here. Well, we all were, but it was obvious that you especially were having a hard time.”
Gally got out of his chair and stepped forwards. Minho’s heart started thumping wildly, “Gally.”
“So I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I followed you around like a lost puppy. I’m sorry you had to push me away because I didn’t see the signs before. And I’m sorry-“
“Gally,” Minho repeated, his voice rising, “don’t-“
“After you hid yourself away I was so confused. I had this feeling in my chest unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Brenda was there for me, and I decided to pin that strange feeling as her doing-“
Minho stood up abruptly, “Don’t you fucking dare say what I think you’re about to say!”
“I spent all that time waiting without knowing I was-“
“Stop!”
“And it’s taken me so long to find myself-“
“Shut up! Please-“
“Especially after me and Bren broke up, because we had to decide what to do with Chuck-“
“Don’t-“
“But my mind was always elsewhere-“
“If I hear those words leave your fucking mouth!” Minho’s breathing was shaky, rapid, and his fists were clenched so tightly that his nails had started to draw blood.
Gally had come to a stop right in front of him, their faces inches apart. He whispered gently, “Minho-“
“Do not! If you fucking say one more thing, then I’ll never fucking forgive you!” Minho blinked back tears. All of the suppressed emotions that had been piling up in his chest for the past few years were threatening to spill out.
Gally only shook his head, “I admired you back in the Glade. You were everything I wasn’t. Brave, easygoing-“
“Please, Gally..” Minho’s voice broke.
“When you got trapped in the maze, I was so scared that I’d never see you again. Everything I did after that was out of fear, I just couldn’t bare the idea of losing you-“
“I don’t care! Stop the speech, I’m begging you-“ Minho tried to push Gally away, but his arms felt heavy and Gally wasn’t moving anytime soon.
“Seeing you and the others leave for that final time sparked something in me, that strange feeling. But it was too late-“
“I hate you.”
“So I was happy when it was you who struck me down-“
“Shut up!”
“And ages later when Thomas found me.. I had come to terms with the idea that you were already dead. Just hearing your name again gave me a reason to keep going-“
“Gally-“ He couldn’t even put up a fight anymore as Gally cupped his face.
“I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me.”
And then Gally tilted his head to the side and kissed him. Nothing rushed, no desperation, just lips brushing against each other with a certain softness that could only be found in a hazy dream.
Gally pulled away, his eyes flickering open, and he looked ashamed of himself. “I think I should go now..” he mumbled and let go of Minho’s face, preparing to take a step backwards.
Minho grabbed his collar roughly and pulled his head back down, “Don’t give me a shitty, long winded speech for no fucking reason you asshole.” Minho grumbled under his breath.
It was Gally’s turn to be shocked as Minho met his mouth again, this time without emptiness. Gally quickly braced himself by gripping Minho’s forearms, trying helplessly to keep himself from fainting.
“..Gaga?”
A small voice sounded behind them and they immediately jumped apart, Gally spinning on his heel only to see his son by the door.
“I thought you shut it!” Gally looked back at Minho.
Minho’s eye twitched, “He’s tall enough to reach the handle.”
Chuck didn’t seem to realise he had walked in on a private moment, and toddled over to his dad. “Panpan was asking if you were coming to breakfast?”
Gally paused, then a small chuckle escaped his lips, “Yeah, I’ll be down in just a minute. Has it stopped raining?”
Chuck nodded, “But mummy said to wear a coat because rain might come back.”
Gally ruffled Chuck’s hair, “Sure thing kid. And how about you get going now, hm? You don’t want Panpan to run out of waffles do you?”
Fear cut across Chuck’s face, “I want a waffle!”
“Then go get it! I’ll follow you.” Gally grinned.
Chuck was out of the door in a flash, and Gally cautiously looked at Minho again, “He’s a nuisance at times, sorry. I’ll have a chat with him about walking into other peoples houses without asking.”
Minho’s eyes were stuck on the open door, “You’re so good with him.”
Gally opened his mouth, then closed it. Minho smiled at him, the tight knot of dread in his chest from months of silent pain now completely dissolved.
“Let’s go get something to eat.” Gally said quietly, putting a careful arm around Minho.
Minho rubbed his eyes, “What are the chances Thomas talks my ear off as soon as he sees me?”
“Ninety percent at least.” Gally choked out, still overwhelmed by what had just happened.