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...innocence is just an illusion...

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My Other Half
Title: My Other Half
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Length: One-shot
Genre: Angst
Warning: MCD
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. I wish I had YunJae and if I had my way, they'd move to New Zealand so they can be civil-unionised here :P
Summary: Looking at the two men, you’d imagine an invisible bungee cord between them. A strong connection that may stretch and stretch and stretch but never snap. Where one goes, the other will follow. He may be the leader but where his lead singer goes, he will always follow. Always.

AN: Unbeta-ed and I’m sorry… My twin requested YunJae and well, yeah :-/ Be careful what you wish for, I guess, is the moral of the story. Regardless, she will probably kill me.

The morning light shines into the broken room, illuminating the broken body within it. Abstract shadows form on the walls and light bounces off the shards of glass on the floor. A shuddering body, wracked in pain is the sole occupant in the midst of the destruction. The pain he feels is so deep he can hardly breathe. No one can comfort him. Pain radiates from every pore, every breath, every movement he makes. Shattered furnishings, fragmented fixtures and walls pitted with gouges surround him. He sits in the only remaining piece of furniture that lies unbroken - an armchair. He stares out the window, each laboured breath seemingly heavier than the last. His eyes are hidden by large aviator sunglasses, but an errant tear streaks down his cheek. Not a sound can be heard apart from his deep breaths, each slower than the previous as if he is fighting to even draw in the air. His clothes are dirty and streaked with dirt and blood, a macabre reality mirroring one of so many photo shoots, but this time without his other half. His other half... He winces in pain as his blood-smeared hand reflexively grips at the sheet of paper he is holding.

The writing is messy and covered in dried teardrops. He lifts the piece of paper to his face, the movement slow and agonized as his tormented eyes read over the words once again.

In the dark of night
I stare into your eyes
With endless sight
You hear my cries

There is no turning back
We can't keep running
Don't look away
The world is crashing

You say it would always be this way
You say we would never run away
But once again you're gone, you're gone
A pain so deep I could not have borne

In your shadow, I see myself
I have no courage without you by me
The sun sets and you lose yourself
I cannot do it, not for you or me

This is the final goodbye
This is my farewell note
No more tears
Death is coming for you and me

You say it would always be this way
You say we would never run away
But now i'm alone cos you're gone, you're gone
A pain so deep I could not have borne

His mind is filled with memories. Memories of a happy man, tangled up in sheets and laughing gloriously. Memories of a smirking man, wearing a tie and little else. Memories of a starving man, scoffing down ramen so quickly that little droplets of soup sprinkle his companions. Memories of a singing man, whose eyes always wander back to him and they shared their not-so-secret smiles. Memories of an angry man, beautiful eyes flashing in hurt, hands moving around agitatedly as he spoke, voice cracking from pain. That is the last memory he has of his other half and he doesn’t want it to be that way. His jaw flexes as he clenches his teeth. The pain is ripping him up from within and there is nothing he can do. He knows it will only be a matter of time. A matter of time before he joins his other half once again.

The paper flutters to the floor breaking the silence of the room as a final tear drips off his chin.


He feels like he is trapped in a deep abyss where no light can penetrate. The inky darkness so heavy he feels like he is being smothered on all sides. He cannot not figure out if he is sitting or if he is lying or if he is standing. He can’t even tell if his eyes are open or shut. He is blind and he feels nothing. The numbness is prickling at him, at the edges of his memory. Why is he so numb? What is going on?

A soul-crushing pain suddenly pierces his chest. His eyes widen and he can make out flickering lights out of the corner of his eye, piercing the terrible darkness that threatens to engulf him. He can hear voices around him, many voices, shouting even but he cannot make out the words. He cannot focus on that. Not now. The pain in his chest is deep but it is not physical. Physical pain he can deal with. This pain is beyond anything he has ever felt before. He is being torn asunder from the inside. Deep within him, the pain rolls out, washing over his skin like an avalanche of hot embers, threatening to set him aflame. He is in hell.

He knows what that pain means. He has only felt this once before and the horror of that night is forever seared deep into his soul. Only one thing in the world can cause that kind of pain. A pain so deep he knows he will not claw out of the pit alive. There is just no way. His reason for living, his reason for breathing, his reason for existing is gone. He draws in a deep shuddering breath as his body fights to break free from the invisible ropes that are tying him down. He can feel a hot tear slip out of his eye leaving a hot trail down his cheek. He tries to move his hand to wipe away the tears because he cannot bear to be branded with them. It is too final. He never cries for anyone or anything. He will only cry for one man.

His other half.

He sucks in a desperate breath as he once again struggles to move. The lights winking in the distance are getting blurry as he tries harder to move. His other half. He had to get to him. He does not know how or why but he needs to. The burn in his chest is intensifying and he is finding it harder and harder to breathe. He closes his eyes as more hot tears wind their way down his cheeks. He cannot stop them no matter how hard he tries. The pain. The pain is too much. He wants to give in to it. To get that sweet oblivion. He cannot be strong. Not alone. He can be strong for his other half. Only his other half. No one else matters. Nothing else matters. The burning tears are like hot lava on his flesh and he struggles to reach out, to reach out to his other half.

Suddenly, he finds himself in a room. A room painted by broken shadows. A shattered window lets in a cool breeze that he feels like a soft caress on his hot face. He looks around curiously, unsure as to how he got there. The room is dim and lit only by moonlight. He takes a tentative step forward and something crunches underfoot. He looks down, squinting in the weak moonlight and makes out shattered glass. A sense of dread is coming over him as he looks around once again. The room is starting to look familiar.

The pain catches him off guard as realisation hits. He drops to his knees as a white hot flash explodes in his chest. It is their room. His other half. A beloved name escapes his lips in a broken whisper as he succumbs to to the wave of agony that swallows him whole.


A broken room. A broken body. A piece of paper flutters on the floor, caught by a draft coming in through the the gaping window. The room is a mere shell of itself. The occupant, a mere shell of himself. He is unrecognizable, just like the room. Paintings hang askew off the walls and eerie shadows dance over them as a draft flows through the room, brushing at torn wallpaper. Pale moonlight skips over destroyed furniture, a teasing light that betrays nothing of the room’s secrets. In the middle of the room, the broken body stirs.

Black streaks and dried blood mar the man as he sits, a devastated prince upon his throne. A wretched sound escapes his lips as he struggles against the pain that suffuses his body. From his repose, he observes the darkness that surrounds him with a despairing eye. It is not a dream. He is living his worst nightmare. He is in the pits of hell and he wants it to end. A harsh sound echoes around the room, a sound so tortured his eyes grow hot with unshed tears in sympathy. It takes him a moment to realise the sound is from himself.

He clenches his fist, grasping at emptiness. The emptiness where his soul once lay burns like a fiery storm, sweeping through his body, leaving nothing recognisable behind. He is less than a shadow. He is less than a shell. His mouth opens in a soundless cry, his throat spent. He wants his other half. He needs his other half. Words play in his head, a continuation of their final song. But the pain is too deep, too new, too raw. He lies stricken upon his throne, unable to move, his mind soaring. He closes his eyes as his essence escapes his body once again, back into the comfort of his memories. Memories of his other half. His beautiful other half; his reason for living, his reason for breathing, his reason for existing.

Blindness is absolute
A look, a gaze, a touch
Call out to me and I will come
Across the oceans, so far, so near

For you, my love , I die again
I’d die a thousand deaths to save you pain
Against my will I am flying from you
I can’t get a grip, I am going insane

You say it would always be this way
You say we would never run away
But now we’re apart, to atone, all alone
A pain so deep I could not have borne

He hears the refrain in his head. Mocking him, taunting him. He will never be able to write again. Never be able to sing again and yet the words thunder through his mind, refusing to let go. He remembers the discordant chords that inspires his words, the soft melody so haunting... and he would give anything at all to see his other half, his love, his life. To hear him say his name just one last time.

A lassitude settles over him, the pain numbed suddenly as a cool breeze caresses his features. His lips quirk in a wretched grimace of a smile as calmness finally overtakes him, the deep seated pain that wracked his body has stilled. And in that last moment, it is as if his final wish was granted as he hears a ghostly whisper calling out his name.


Darkness once again presses down on him, taking away his breath, choking the scream that threatens to escape him. “No, no, no!” A wretched voice echoes in his head. It surrounds him like the oppressive darkness, a sneering attack that leaves him bereft and so full of despair. The bonds that hold him like poisonous tendrils, wrapping him tight as he clutches desperately to remain on this plane. To remain for his other half. A cold, cold, fear slowly descends upon his broken body, as he struggles against the ropes, clawing to get through, desperate to stay for his other half. To comfort him. He cannot go alone.

He hears a slow, dull thudding. It is weak, yet resolute. His face is etched in a grim smile as he realises that it is his heart that he hears. His heartbeat. It gives him a flicker of hope as he fights to free himself. He needs to get to his other half. He needs to save him from himself. But the harder he struggles, the tighter the bonds. The pain sears him in half; an emotional, metaphysical amputation.

Questions play over and over in his head. How did he get to their room? How can he get back?

He knows his other half is there. He feels him in that brief instant. They are together for a split second before they are cruelly wrenched apart once again. Two halves of a whole, each incomplete without the other. They have always been that way, ever since they met over a decade ago. Try as they might, they cannot run away from each other. Something always brings them back. They are each other’s destiny. Their fate. His struggles quieten as he remembers the song he was working on; what will now be his final song. Their final song. The melancholic strains on his piano, something he conjured up after their recent fight. He had left the door open and he just knew, and he felt it rather than saw it, that words were being written by the occupant in the other room as he played. Words he will never hear.

He is on a precipice, on the edge of an abyss, the memories just that little bit out of reach. He sees a familiar figure across the chasm and his heart catches. He tries to reach out but finds his body imprisoned as his mind soars free, flying desperately towards his other half. He welcomes the sweet oblivion as his mind takes flight and he feels relief for an instant as pictures flash in his head; a film reel of their lives as he wills his body to fly across the jagged wound in the ground in front of him, that cruelly separates him from his other half.

He sees him in his bed, shaking under the sheets as the manager screams at the maknae. He remembers trying to stop him as he flies out of the room in a fury, to have that anger redirected on him. He remembers comforting him and they share the small twin bed that night, wrapped up in each other, waiting for the storm to pass, desperately trying to convince themselves and each other that this is all worth it. All the pain, the strife, the torturous schedule; it will be worth it.

He sees him in the hospital, eyes swimming in hurt and pain, and a fair amount of sadness and disbelief. He remembers crying as if he’s never cried before. At how close to loss they had been. Just the memory of that agony is like acid on his soul. The haunted look in those beautiful eyes takes a while to go away. And it takes even longer for the trust to come back. But he is there, every step of the way, determined to protect him from the world the best way he can, even if it means risking himself.

He sees him holding their first single, eyes shining with disbelief, excitement, happiness and sheer determination. He remembers smiling at his other half, as he babbled non-stop, about all the things they would achieve, the concerts they would play and the awards they would win. The conviction stems from their connection. That naive belief that they will be together forever. Forever is a long time.

A swirl of mist veils the mesmerising pictures as the deep pain inside him flares up once more, consumingly inexorable, burning him from within. He can still see him in the distance but the mist starts to thicken and he wills himself to call out. He tries to breathe but there is no air to take in. His eyes widen in horror as the mist dissolves, the light in the distance dimming as a loud mechanical wailing echoes around him. “Forgive me,” he whispers as he succumbs to the darkness. “I love you.”


The blackness that surrounds him flickers and he feels rather than sees movement just out of reach of his peripheral vision. He hears a whisper in the breeze and it sounds like his other half. He sinks deeper into himself, refusing to acknowledge what he has heard because it can’t possibly be true. His other half is gone. And yet, something inside him stirs. He moans softly as he hears a whisper in the wind once again. This time there is no mistaking it; it is his other half.

He struggles desperately to open his eyes, to fight against the numbness taking over his physical body. The pain still flares within him but he realises that it comes and goes. It is no longer a constant. Hope flares in his breast as he fights to wrest himself from the darkness that is so intent on consuming him. A part of him is despairing because he knows it is too late for him but another part is delirious with happiness. His other half. He can hear his other half. He can feel his other half.

He opens his eyes and finds himself at the edge of a canyon. A light mist caresses him as he leans over to look down into the gaping darkness. He is not sure where he is. Perhaps he is in limbo because this looks like neither hell nor heaven as he’s been taught. He feels nothing and this terrifies him. Has he crossed over? Is he dreaming? Nothing is clear to him and he can feel hot tears well up in his eyes, waiting to forge their scalding path down his cheeks. As he lifts his hand to wipe them away, he sees a figure in the distance.

His hand freezes as he recognises the figure hidden behind the ghostly mist. A figure he will always recognise. He catches tantalising glimpses but nothing enough to satisfy the hunger within him. He opens his mouth to call out but a mere whisper emerges and the sound is carried away by the wind, lost in the sweeping mist. The loneliness he feels is acute and he takes a step forward, trying to get that one step closer to the one he loves. His life. His very soul. No one understands. No one ever did and now here they are, standing in a dream-like reality, separated by a black canyon that he knows has no bottom. He takes another step forward and almost loses his balance as half his foot hangs over nothing. He swallows a surprised cry as he takes a step back.

The mist swirls, a thick heavy cloak, whispers in his ear and soft breaths along the back of his neck. He feels goosebumps raise across his arms as he gazes longingly out at his love, his life.

He takes a tentative step forward, reaching out a hand and imploring for his other half to take a step closer. As his body yearns, his mind is suddenly enveloped by a calm presence. It is a familiar presence. A warmth that represents his memories. It is a comforting presence, meant to soothe him and reassure him that everything will be alright. They will be together now and that is all that matters.

All of a sudden, that comforting touch is gone, wrenched from him so quickly his body jerks as pain floods through him once more. He looks up, staring deep into the mist, trying to see his other half but he knows, he knows he is no longer there. He is alone. He stifles his sobs as the pain flares up, burning him once again with its inexorable touch. He takes a step forward.

He looks up one last time as if to check and see if his other half is truly lost to him. The mist taunts him as he takes that final step forward and allows his body to fall into the abyss, the last words that play in his mind is that familiar Cassiopeia refrain; always keep the faith.


He opens his eyes and stares at the white ceiling. His eyes hurt and the brightness of the room causes them to tear up. His body feels numb and he has no idea where he is. He tries to lift his head and his body screams in protest but he manages the small movement. The room around him is stark and white. A chair sits in the corner, a discarded leather jacket draped over it. He recognises the jacket, it is one of his. He turns and looks around, curious as to his surroundings, ignoring the pain in his head as his eyes drink in the bare room, finding it wanting. It is missing something. He falls back against his pillow and closes his eyes as a tear slips out, trying desperately to remember how he got there and where his other half is. Shouldn’t he be here? Holding his hand like before?

His other half.

He bolts upright and jumps out of bed., ripping the IV out of his arm. He nearly swoons as the room spins around him, causing him to lean over the bed, his injured hands clutching desperately at the sheets, stifling the urge to vomit. He knows he looks pathetic, hunched over the bed with his eyes clenched shut and jaw stiff as he swallows down the bile that has risen in his throat. It is a bitter brew but he doesn’t care.

His other half. He has to find him.

This time he moves slowly, gingerly lifting his head and straightening up to his full height. He takes a cautious step backwards away from the bed, ignoring his throbbing hands and head for the moment, and pads barefoot on the cold linoleum floor towards the door. His chest feels like it is on fire and he is having a hard time breathing but he doesn’t care. Pins and needles creep up his leg as he hobbles towards the door. A feeling of desperation comes over him as he looks down the empty hallway as he feels their connection ebb and flow like the tide at the beach they love back in Bora Bora.

His other half. He knows he is there. He just needs to find him.

He moves silently down the hall, taking turns around the windy corridors, playing “hot and cold” with himself as he follows a trail only he can see. He soon arrives at a part of the hospital that seems busier than usual. It is still quiet but there are people sitting on the seats lining the corridor, some are sobbing and others are sitting alone just staring blankly, unseeing. The pull is strong yet he feels weaker with every step he takes. His head hurts even more now and he is deeply exhausted. But he cannot stop now.

His other half. He is close.

He opens a door marked ICU, his rattled brain not quite processing what that means. He is simply following that trail he feels. Words mean nothing. It is very quiet and he sees several doors. He ducks into the first one as a nurse comes round the corner, not wanting to be caught now, somehow realising in the back of his mind that it will not be a good thing. He turns around to apologise to the occupant and finds someone practically mummified. His eyes widen and he quickly checks the hallway again, exiting quietly and making his way down the hall, still following that trail.

His other half. His chest tightens and he finds it hard to draw breath.

He stops outside a nondescript door, identical to all the ones he’s walked past. This is it. He opens the door and the room is dark, eerie shadows playing on the walls. His mind twitches at a faded memory, this seems familiar somehow. He walks in and quietly shuts the door behind him, leaning against it as he looks toward the bed in the middle of the room.

His other half. He’s found him.

He walks slowly towards the bed, feeling weaker by the second. His other half looks so peaceful, laying there, jet black hair stark against the white bandages and that milky white skin. His head is wrapped in gauze and so is his torso, a blood red stain on his right. Long eyelashes shadow his pale face in the low moonlight as the younger man reaches out his unbandaged left hand to softly caress his lover’s cheek. Eyes flutter open immediately and liquid brown eyes stare into pained chocolate ones. They gaze at each other, no words necessary between them as the standing man crawls carefully into the bed, next to the fallen angel. The older man hides his wince at having to move but he would sooner cut out his tongue than let his lover know that he is in pain. They settle against each other, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, breathing into each other. Each laboured breath slower than the last as they look deep into each other, sharing beautiful memories between them. Matching tears escape their eyes which the younger man wipes away immediately, catching both their tears with his finger. He slips it between their mouths and parched lips suck at the salty wetness as more tears flow. The older man struggles to lift his hand, pulling the finger away from between their mouths. He links their fingers and clasp their hands together tightly as they kiss. It is a soft, sweet kiss. A kiss full of love, of promise, of forever. Their eyes flutter shut and a long dull beep echoes around the room. The younger man chokes back a sob, willing himself to stay still. That kiss is a promise. His other half has never ever broken a promise to him, not even when their world fell apart leaving him picking up the pieces, and he wasn’t about to start now. He presses his own kiss against still warm lips, making a promise of his own, breathing his last breath into the older man.

The two halves are once again whole. Together. Forever.

AN: Crying so hard I can’t even see straight… This was left purposefully ambiguous…

I'm not sure if I should ask for details or just soak in the quiet pain.

You know it's going to be a tough one when the author warns, "Be careful of what you wish for".

Soak because you really don't want details... TT__________TT

I just re-read this and now I feel so bad for subjecting everyone to it .__________.

Wow. Followed this all the way through. Amazing angst and awesome fandom...I don't know exactly what. Just...

nice writing!

Thank you so much. I think i'm going to try and stay away from the angst from now though TT_______TT

Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.

So saddddddddddddddddddddd
Just.... just................ :'((((

I know... i'm sorry... Was just thinking about Jae's accident and yeah... TT_______TT

I'm apologising a lot... But I am sorry :-(

0_0 this is so different from your usual style, i cant' believe you wrote it! OTL

i loved the imagery in the start,the psychological angst. at the start you think it's because of the lawsuit, but slowly the entire picture becomes clear.. it's so typically yunho, to ignore his physical pain & spend his last moments with jaejoong. it's so typically jae to sense yunho even when he is taking last breaths.it's so typically yunjae, the pain and the angst and the overwhelming love..

you made me cry too~

Yes, well, this is me when i'm feeling terribly angsty OTL

IKR? I can't imagine one without the other. I really cannot. My twin read this and she was screaming at me cos she was so mad and that was when she only thought it was Jae (she skimmed the last paragraph)... Then I pointed out the summary to her (which she didn't read!) and she screamed at me all over again TT_________TT

why,,,, why.................... must be beautiful.. died together like that.. oh.. goosebumps

At least you think it's beautiful. And I wanna cry all over again ._______. Goosebumps indeed. Thanks for reading and commenting TT______TT

//cries with you all over again

Allow me to digest this fic. Okay, I fail. No words. Pure beautiful. Another fave. There, I said it all ^______^ love this fic. Love you ♥

I'm glad you love it. I think you might be the only one :O

I am confused.
Did they both try to commit suicide at the same time?
Or one of them did it and the other had a dream about loosing his other half?

It's meant to be confusing and neither tried to commit suicide.

seriously..what is this,woman??:'(
arghh..my head hurts..i just can't swallow the pain.i do feel like i wanna vomit right now.but partly because of my existing headache.i should't read this when my head feels like splitting into two..

i might avoid your angst fics frm now on.but lets see if i can really do that.heh./smirk.

Mmmmm... they're together and that's what's important tbh. Hang on to that.

the angst ;_____;
But you wrote it beautifully. The ending is lovely :")
Thanks for sharing this <3

You're welcome. Thanks for reading and commenting *huggles*

It's a great piece of writing!
Tearful story that at found the forever happiness in the end.
Beautifully sorrowful love.

P.S. I'm still curious of what actually happened though lol

Thank you :-) I'm glad you liked it.

Well, remember Jae falling from quite a height for his Jackal filming? Yeah...

The angst is just....just mindblowing T.T This fandom is angst filled but I'm not complaining since I love angst....
Great one-shot! ^^

oob i need bunch of tissue please..should i like it to be real..?? i don't know..

Thanks for sharing. Usually I pass angst because it affects me but since it was. I decided to go thru it. It was bittersweet for me! Now I have to go read ur other Drabble for sleeping beauty to get myself balance again. Thanks for writing yunjae. There are only a few good yunjae writers left and I really like those 2 together. Hihihi