a/n: meeting #2! they're in love already can you tell?

Hyung: Usually, what boys call their older brothers or older guys. I've seen girls do this, but it's unusual…

Hakseang: 'Student', I think can range from middle schoolers to college kids?

Bacchus-F: An energy drink that's popular in South Korea, but it tastes more like a sour sports drink? I'm assuming Dana was drinking this back in Episode 14, but that's just me.

my love to Eternal Nocturne: it's okay i wanna continue this regardless of the reviews cause osudana ❤❤❤

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3. this dream isn't ending

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By time Dana figured out Plan A, he was already on his feet and attempting to be inconspicuous, huddled near the doors. Against all odds, she watched him escape last time, but she'd rather die than see it happen a second time. Luckily, just before the double doors slid open, she slammed her foot between his shoulder blades, satisfying a bit of her bloodthirst. This was the first she'd harmed him, but it didn't feel as great when his groceries spilled onto the floor and the bystander riders rushed to his aid, in addition to pretty much calling her an asshole.

It was the worst of timing when the doors opened to reveal a disoriented young man surrounded by his ruined stuff and people helping him up.

"Stop, stop," she ordered, shoving the gossipers and the good Samaritans aside, before yanking blue boy up. When he winced, those pity points skyrocketed. "He's a no-good criminal, so I'd stop before you're arrested as accomplices."

One smartass had to assure, "Are you even a cop?"

In the manner of one, Dana flipped open an official ID. "I'm a hero from SPOON and I've been looking for this punk." After pocketing her ID, she ignored the raised whispering and pulled blue boy to face her. Although not as arrogant as she imagined him to be, he had the audacity to glower as though she was the one fucking up. Which she sorta was. "You're going to SPOON."

Since her iron grip was impossible to escape from, blue boy could only look to the side. "I don't think so."

"Hyung." The group of high school boys forwarded him with his bag re-stuffed with his stuff. "You, uhh, dropped these."

Not like a villain at all, blue boy accepted the bag with a slight bow. "Thank you, hakseangs."

After they left with frightened glances toward Dana, he whispered to her, "Are heroes allowed to openly exercise their right to arrest as you do? Especially when they failed to find a single sign of evidence against me?"

"Shut up." One hand busy, Dana called with the other and tapped the floor with each dial tone. When the call connected, she immediately said, "Chief, put me back on the case 'cause I—"

"Vice Chief."

"—found someone you should meet—

"Vice Chief."

"—like right now so I'm heading back to SPOON this instant. No, scratch that, I need to get off because this train's taking me home so give me a minute."

"Vice Chief."

Right, the hero-hierarchy mandated her to listen to him. "What?"

"If you step one foot back onto SPOON property," he coolly informed, "you will be expelled for a week. No, that's not enough, make that three, four, weeks."

"What."

"Whatever reason you have for returning can wait. I suppose an exception would be after you visit a medical facility or a healer. At the very least, wait till tomorrow morning before you even think of coming back to SPOON. Can you wait eighteen hours, Vice Chief?"

Unable to control herself, she yelled, "I'm coming now!"

When blue boy tittered beside her, Dana lowered her voice and pleaded through gritted teeth, "Chief, I'm not crazy, just let me come back—"

"Strange, Vice Chief, you sound fairly crazed to me. I do wish you to take the day off and keep your mind off work, won't you?"

With that, a click signaled the end of that. Not that the suspect knew, but Dana spent a few minutes controlling the rolls of rage since his conviction lay in her hand. It would be so much easier just to end him here and there, but there was a process. Step one was to call Dune and Claude even though they'd yet to respond.

"May I take a seat?" he piped up.

With the phone balanced against her shoulder and ear, Dana released him but stared him down in case he had any thoughts of bolting. She stripped off her jacket, still watching his every move, then her tie. Eyes gleaming, blue boy leaned back and murmured, "Oh."

With her tie, Dana seized his forearm and looped the thin fabric around his wrist, before tying the other end to hers. Eyes squinting, blue boy slumped and muttered, "Oh."

"I don't have handcuffs," she explained as her fourth call to Dune dropped. That was fine, she had other options. The phone in her free hand, she was drumming her foot against the floor. "C'mon, Sunbaenim, pick up, pick up."

"Yes?"

"Doyoung-sunbaenim!"

"Ah? Dana-ya?"

Time was a'wasting so she cut to the chase. "Sunbaenim, are you busy?"

A pause before he said, "Right now? I…" Again, several seconds were wasted toward his sake. "I suppose I am preoccupied at the moment? However, that shouldn't be for long."

"When will you be free, Sunbaenim?"

"What's with the urgency, Dana-ya?" he laughed. "It's only until after my daughter—"

After dropping the call herself, the Vice Chief glared at the phone in her hands. Doyoung was the only healer she somewhat knew since she didn't get injured much. There was a beat where she considered calling him back to ask for other available healers, however, she scratched that for calling someone else.

"Yep!"

"Jelina-sunbae!"

The jellyfish human wasn't surprised that Dana had contacted her. "Hey, Dana! Are you home? Feeling better already?"

"Not yet!" Impatient was an understatement when she launched right into it. "Listen, are you at SPOON right now? Can you come outside to meet me?"

"Right now? Yeah, I'm at SPOON. I'm off to an assignment soon, but I have time—oohhh."

He couldn't have. "Sunbae?"

"I forgot… Dana, I'm really sorry but I can't…"

He did. "Sunbae, please, you don't understand—"

"Dana…"

"—I have him right—"

"Dana, Chief's walking toward me, I have to, I'm super sorry—"

That was it. As if speeding up her thought process, she thumped her phone against her forehead. What other options? Go to SPOON anyway and risk losing blue boy when she'd most definitely be refused entrance? Go to a medical facility where she'd definitely lose blue boy while being unwillingly examined?

Or worst—go home? Where she lived?

"What's the plan, hero?"

Scarlet was both an alarming and arresting color to stare into. "Like I'd tell you," she growled but blue boy was unmoved. Even though she was intimidating, she noticed he didn't try to at least attack her and escape. "You're not very strong, are you?"

He shrugged, grasping his bag closer to him. "I don't feel particularly ferocious today."

Dana had a sneaking suspicion that his frail figure couldn't hold physical strength. A onceover was only making his smile wider however. Since he was in an answering mood, she questioned, "Where is the Oz?"

"Right here," he hummed.

Taking Dana by surprise, she knew that meant he somehow was somehow storing them on himself—in the bag, perhaps, but that was too obvious, too easy—, so she went with a much more reasonable response, "Did you use the Oz?"

His reaction was amusement. "What do you think the Oz is?"

"A dangerous drug that can be abused through a number of ways."

"You're not wrong." His hand tied to hers covered his chuckle. "I am using the Oz on myself. Would you like to see its supposed 'dangerous' effect?"

The Oz may be dangerous, but to use it upon himself must be intended for its additive effects? To use it dangerously, would he model on himself? That would be absurd. Which meant he was talking about people, innocent bystanders, around them. Even people that helped him or had been on his side, he could drug them up on her command?

Villains really were the worst, Dana thought as what came out of her mouth was, "I'd like to see you locked up."

With an easy smile, he replied, "What's your name, Vice Chief?"

So he remembered that night. Rather than continue the Q&A, she crossed her arms even if that meant his hand was touching her elbow. No fucks were given as the intercom lady broke the silence, announcing Dana's station as the upcoming stop.

This really was it. Because she had been pissed off so often today, exhaustion was telling her the worst case scenario wasn't really the worst. Not only that, rest was a necessity she couldn't indulge in lately but the very reason was sitting next to her. Although all she really had to do was chain him to the pole outside her apartment and no one would ask questions, right?

"That is a terrible idea." Blue boy shook his head. "Are we off to your place then?"

A change in plans would be good right about now, but none came to mind. Teeth gritted, she admitted, "I would be the stupidest hero in history if I were to show you where I lived."

"I believe the stupid ones are the ones who get themselves killed."

Was he complimenting her? Or mocking her since he let her live that one night? The more she thought about it, the more pissed she could become, so she closed her eyes and confessed into her free hand, "I don't know."

"Let me go."

Again, as she shook her head, long tendrils of hair brushed onto his arm. "I'm not trying to be the stupidest hero in history."

"Take me to where you live."

She sighed. "Maybe I should leave you to the police, but they can't hold you if I don't have any evidence."

"Your place then."

"And Chief told me to never threaten the police… What a load of—"

In due time, the train stopped. Out of it, Dana panicked for a second, just before blue boy upped and dragged her onto the station platform. Before she could register what he did, the double doors closed and the cars were moving slowly, quickly, then gone as if never there.

Their hands still tied, he tugged her back into reality. "What is your address?"

"I…" Honestly, she wanted to sleep. But she also wanted him to pay for his crimes. Mostly against her, yes, so that'd mean she needed him now. Life really sucked. "Close your eyes."

Adamant, he refused so she forced her jacket upon him and tied the sleeves around his head. Anyone who passed by and thought they weren't an odd couple; they didn't exist because that was a complete lie. Not when Dana had to yank him every now and then, so that he didn't run into people, poles, and cars. Though she was tempted to watch him walk right into the road.

"Here." After shoving open the door to her home, Dana thought how her life was gonna end when a villain entered. Whatever, it should be worth it once he was handed to SPOON. "I'll take the jacket off, but I don't wanna hear anything from you."

Muffled, he asked, "And the tie?"

She scowled. "Don't touch anything either."

The tie and jacket removed, blue boy stood by the front door and immediately took in his surroundings. There wasn't really anything that stood out to him—just looked like a standard one-bedroom apartment—though he made a beeline for her living room sofa.

"Hey!" she shouted from her bedroom. After keeping her eyes on him for over half an hour now, Dana also made a beeline, but toward her closet. "No touching! That's touching!" A few minutes scrambling in her room, she hurried out to find him still lying there. "Listen, villian, when I tell you to not do something—"

No, she couldn't finish that sentence. Blue boy had curled cushion-side, but after she jerked him around, she just realized. Was he always this pale? Wait, actually, the paleness was probably a normality. But the pink overwhelming his cheeks and the sheen of sweat around his neck and forehead? She thought that was normal if he was sick.

"Hey…" Not to karate chop him into the next life, her hand pressed against his damp temple. "I didn't mean to make you…"

"It's not you." Instantly, he turned back around and swept his long sleeve over his flushing face. "You can take me to your hero hideout tomorrow but all I ask is some time alone."

Curious, she crouched before him. "How come you were fine five minutes ago?"

He sounded like he contemplated answering, before he gave in. "The Oz."

While her expression said what the fuck, what she actually said was, "But that makes no sense. I thought the Oz was a drug that kills the user or makes them unable to think or whatever it was… It has pain-relieving properties?"

"You don't even know," he muttered. "Can I please be left alone?"

"Answer me." Since he didn't, she shook his shoulder. "Are you sick?"

Silence. Just barely louder than that, he answered, "This happens often."

There was a number of ways she could've reacted, but leaving was not one of them. Not in the way that she got to her feet and left him alone to disappear into her room. But the fact that she returned minutes later with the only difference being a light jacket. Outerwear on, she fit her keys into her pocket and cocked her head. "I don't trust you. In fact, if I had a list of people I trust the least, you're front and center." His head hazy, blue boy emitted a low laugh. "But I don't know how serious this is—"

"I'll survive," he reassured.

Not believing his half-hearted answer, she scoffed. "Survive? Are you really dying?"

Dodging that, he mumbled, "Where are you going?"

In return for a question unanswered, Dana turned on her heel and walked toward the front door. After she fitted on her sneakers, she popped back into the room to warn, "Don't try anything."

With that, she locked her door and hurried out of her apartment complex. All she could think was how downright bizarre she was acting in this situation. For all that she knew, he could be faking to escape, but there was something genuine the way his skin was hot to the touch, and the way his closed-off stance was strangely vulnerable. Or maybe it attributed mostly because Dana could spot a liar. Probably the latter.

Upon arriving her destination, Dana entered the 24-hour convenience store. There were two college kids eating instant noodles at the window and a clerk who didn't look up from her phone. That was fine; Dana liked to left alone as she wandered through the aisles with a slight frown. Eventually, she found the fever-reducing medications, a pack of Bacchus-F, and apples, which she paid for at the register. There, the clerk ignored her mumbling which sounded a lot like "pay me back" and "rot in prison forever."

Home took exactly eight minutes by running, and she burst into her home, half-expecting him to be nowhere to be seen. What she really saw was the opposite as he still lay on the sofa, unmoved from the last time she'd seen him. The bag in one hand, Dana peered down upon a reflective object a few feet away. When she picked it up, she realized it was a phone, but it wasn't hers. At once, her fist crushed the mobile, and she near shouted, "I thought I warned you not to—"

"You shouldn't be worried," he interrupted. Her lips pressed together, but she wanted to scream. "They didn't answer."

"What makes you think I'll believe that?" For a moment, she could've tested if he was lying, but in her hand, the phone remained in shambles. "I don't believe you, I don't believe this, I can't even believe I left you alone in what right mind—"

"Trust me."

If she wanted to scream before, she was giving into that now, "Did you or did you not hear me call you front and center for least trustworthy people?!"

Nonetheless, his voice did not elevate to meet hers, rather he became softer. "Trust me."

Insane. He had to be insane. She was being driven insane, and that could only happen if he was insane himself. That was how the madness cycle worked, or as Dana thought it would. Did it really matter? Now that his phone was demolished, there was no reason for them to call back. Good riddance. And as they say, a phone for medicine, fruit, and drinks. Although blue boy had to point out laughingly, "You bought Bacchus?"

Legs crossed, Dana took a seat on the floor. "What's wrong with that?"

Still smiling, he breathed heavily for a moment, then shook his head. "Everything." Further blackening her pissed-off expression, he enlightened her, "They used to be praised as the new medicinal 'it' drink back then, but it's more proven to be the opposite. Its basic make-up are simply taurine and corn syrup, which is a pretty terrible combination."

"You're ungrateful." Despite his enlightenment, Dana unscrewed a bottle, shut her eyes, and downed it all herself. Maybe because of that, he reached out a hand, but she raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You've convinced me," he said.

"So? You're still ungrateful." Still, she handed him one, already unscrewed, before pulling out the medicine. "Don't expect any more than this." As he sat up to drank, he noticed Dana reading the instructions, and suddenly burst out, "Noo!"

The pills were just leaving their package. Near scowling, the hero grumbled, "What'd you just say?"

At first, his expression would be along the lines of peculiar panic, but then his illness wore him down. Dana didn't understand at all when he whispered, "I have no need."

He best be kidding. Without even needing to touch him, Dana could tell that his temperature had ascended while she was out, plus that his clothes were clinging to his body like glue and that his breaths were exhaled as tiny puffs of pain. There was definitely something off, but she had to tread carefully. "Why don't you need them? You look like you need them."

Again, the panic was laced in his reply. "The Oz is enough."

He did have a point. Two drugs at once would probably cause heart failure or something alike? So far, Dana had the impression that he snuck in more of the Oz, but even after a quick onceover, he looked worse. More likely because the Oz was a shit drug for pain relief.

Just to be sure, Dana laid the medicine by his arm. Blue boy visibly flinched. Peering, she waited for him to decline, but after a moment, she said, "I'll just leave these out for you."

The last item were the apples, which were neither washed nor unpeeled. From beside her, she could hardly hear him, "Why apples?"

Like she knew. Taking care of the sick wasn't her forte and there wasn't any incentive when her first at-home patient was a villain. Onto her feet, she might as well head to the kitchen for the apples. Just as she took her first step, her foot hit his forgotten bag of groceries, triggering them to spill a second time. Dana recognized the dish as she picked up each of the ingredients: a small bag of rice, eggs, chicken broth, scallions, and with the onions in one hand, she turned to him. "You're really sick?"

Nothing. Except that his breathing emitted more unevenly and he wasn't even strong enough to keep his eyes open. There should've been a hero handbook for this, but for now, Dana had to fill that section herself as she whacked his shoulder at fourth-power.

"Hey." Easily, she forced him to sit up. The look in his eyes, when they narrowly opened anyway, was somewhat cloudy with drowsiness and discomfort. "If you're going to die, then at least do it after you're found guilty," she complained, pinning up her hair and rolling up her sleeves. Humanitarian work really didn't work for her when his stupid outfit tried her patience. After struggling with it for far too long, she finally unzipped his robe-like jacket. Still, blue boy was clothed for the chilly weather so she had to fetch a small tub. After making sure he wasn't all gross and sweaty, she propped a damp towel on his head, and muttered, "What kinda dumbass villain lets himself be sick like this…?"

Not that she expected him to, but it appeared blue boy was too asleep to answer. Great. It wasn't like he could escape while in dreamland, although Dana blocked her front door just in case. In all honesty, she wasn't sure he was going to last the night so she took his and her bag to the kitchen.

Rice porridge. Okay. Dana knew what that was, only because she saw Hyena eat it. But her cooking skills were mediocre at best. Washing her hands anyway, she called her mother.

After an awkward half hour, Dana successfully lied to her mother that she was the one sick, and, no, she didn't need her mother to come over because of many reasonable reasons that didn't come to mind, and would she please tell her how to make it now? After that mess of a phone call, her end product was a bowl of rice porridge, although she didn't taste it. That didn't matter. Like that being said, her cooking was better than the worst, but not better than the best. It was alright. If he could survive this horrible illness, then he could survive this.

To her relief, blue boy was awake. Not entirely a good thing. The perspiration had soaked through his turtleneck and his breathing sounded more on the raspy side rather than heavy. Since she topped off all the Bacchus during her stressful cooking, Dana rushed back for bottles of cold water and her smallest knife. Taking a seat back on the floor, she whacked his shoulder, but at her weakest strength.

"Yo. You dead? Don't cause the cops have motive to think I—"

"No." Barely audible, blue boy rasped, "I'm 'live."

Hearing that, Dana's face contorted with incredulity. So these fevers, which he stated to happen often, were intense enough that a careless option was death? Or he could be literally answering her question, but the abnormality of it all rubbed Dana the wrong way.

Well, if he said he was alive, she shouldn't worry about it. Shrugging it off, she unscrewed a water bottle, before handing it to him. "Here. You're sweating a lot. Actually, just take your shirt off." Of course, he was too weak to do it himself. While she begrudgingly did that for him, she had thought his physical body held no strength, but she thought. Averting her skeptic stare, Dana also helped him sit up again, but his body was involuntary trembling. If he knew about it, he pretended not to notice his hand quivering to cap the water. As he returned it to Dana, he stammered, "Y-you did-didn't."

What? Oh, he was talking about the rice porridge. She didn't have to. Why did she?

"It'll make you feel better faster, right?" Her tone insinuated she was questioning herself as well. Though his breathing was heavy, his gaze was heavier. "The faster you get better, the faster I can take you to SPOON."

"Hmm."

Just as he dipped his spoon, Dana decided she didn't want to watch this. She didn't really cook for anyone, except Hyena at times and maybe Dune and Judas as a joke. Speaking of, she hid in her room and dug around her closet for their clothes. Since she moved by herself, there were times when both Dune and Judas stayed over. Dune wasn't the type to forgot his clothing, but the latter was a bozo who did.

It might say something when she forgot to give back his clothes, but it was a good thing she did. Eventually, she unearthed a dress shirt decorated with sharks, and, grimacing at the print, she threw it into the washing machine. She also brought a light blanket for blue boy who had finished everything.

A sort of satisfaction lightened her shoulders as she traded the tray for the blanket. During the exchange, he said nothing to her. It appeared words were for too much for him, but eating or drinking was not. While he drank the rest of his water, Dana gave him a onceover and noticed that he was good for a nice time of unconsciousness, however, she fetched him Judas' shirt. Their reactions were alike when his eyebrow lifted in distaste. Still, she threw it at him and ordered, "Wear it and bear it."

She shouldn't have thrown it at him since he needed help again. But her help was working for the most part when his trembling had disappeared, but the fever and sweating had not. It didn't matter since those last the longest. At least she thought they did. It was about time for her to get away. After she ate something quick, washed the dishes, and speed-walked around her neighborhood inwardly screaming, an hour had passed before she returned to the sofa.

Maybe because the afternoon light still poured into the living room, but he was awake. It was a little weird to just exist in pain for an hour, which Dana brought up, "You been lying there for an hour?"

His eyes were closed. "Mhm."

The tenth time today, she sat down again and peered into his face-neck-area. Even now, he was releasing a lot of body heat and she re-wet his towel before resting it upon his flushing forehead. "You need some water?"

"Nhm."

"Anything?"

"Nhmm."

"Uh… Okay."

The silence that followed was fine since Dana could occupy herself by cutting apples, and perhaps glancing a closer look at him. Sleeping, or near to that state, he was contrasted with the blue boys she'd been imagining. They were all irritating, instigating, insufferable with smirks that might as well been targets for her fists. But now? Or moments ago, the curve of his mouth wasn't too punchable. As of now, his sleeping countenance was like a completely different person. Or maybe like a kid with the way his fist barely closed beneath his cheek and the way natural blush pinked below his lashes. That could be the fever, but Dana crossed her arms, fully flummoxed.

All of a sudden, her title on his lips broke the silence. "Vice Chief."

So he was awake. The knife still stripping red skin in her fingers, Dana met his half-lidded gaze. "What?"

As she handed him one, he stated clearer than before, "You wanted to kill me several days ago."

Back unturned, she simply said, "I did, but I can't do that now."

"Why not?"

Should she tell him about his case dropping? What kinda question was that? She was already doing too much for him. "There's a process since I caught you in a civilian setting and not just that—I don't think it's a good idea to kill you just yet."

Rasped, he laughed. "But you want to."

"Well, I'm not letting a sickness do that for me." The knife between her teeth, she offered several apples slices in both hands, but he declined them all. Since he was so terribly interested in her, she pointed out, "I'm wasting way too much effort so you better live through this."

Similar to his smile, his voice lightened. "I'll try." Not only had the tension in the air relaxed, he thought their level of familiarity had as well when blue boy requested quietly for the second time, "I want to know your name."

Dana bristled. "You wanted, well no, needed a lot of shit today and I did them for you, but my name isn't one of them."

"I'll tell you mine."

"I don't want that."

"What do you want?"

"I told you, I'd like to see you locked up."

Since he could hardly keep them open anyway, he closed his eyes with a laugh. "Anything else."

"Fine… Whatever. Why don't you get me…?" A moment passed as she thought about it. "I want more Bacchus."

"I can do that. Now your name," he prompted.

At this point, finding her out and throwing her into the villain's torture-zone was probably the right price for taking care of the enemy. Against the sofa, she scoffed and pronounced for him, "It's Dah-na."

"Dana-ssi."

When she glanced back, she could tell he was close to entering a long slumber. "Not yet, villain. I need to be alerted when you're up." The tie was back as she wrapped it exactly the same, binding him and her together. The disappointment darkened his expression, but not like he could do anything about it. "Don't think that you're getting away after everything."

"Everything for me, yes, I'm well aware. It's odd of you." Not aloud, but she had agreed with him. If she thought that was disgusting, she was more so when he twined their fingers together. "Sleep well, Dana-ssi."

"Don't tell me what to do."

.

It had to be a dream.

She was looking through her eyes but she didn't feel like it was hers. This vision was heavily hazy with interrupted sleep and she was looking at him. He was up and about with that stupid shark shirt. He was even smiling, like the first time she saw him, as his fingers adjusted something soft around her shoulders, not like the first time at all. Nonetheless, this felt all too familiar when words wrapped around his lips, but she had to strain her hearing;

"We'll meet again, Dana-ssi."

With that, his fingers followed the curve of her cheek and she drifted away.

.

She'd passed the fuck out, Dana realized much too late.

It was almost the afternoon when she awoke half-upon the couch. The time was the first notice. Second was two new details at once; he was nowhere to be seen, and his blanket had been over her for some time now. After freaking out about new thing one and two, she frantically looked around her surroundings to find new thing three: most of the living room was covered with towers and towers of Bacchus-F.

Moments passed before she fisted her hands into her hair, teeth grinding together, and she figured out the last and final new thing:

Where the fuck is my tie?

—