RICKY

Ricky blinked, his gaze held Michael's, his mind blanked. A loud ringing noise echoed in his head, deafening his ears. The papers he was holding in his right hand crinkled but he barely registered the noise. His throat dried, his eyes watered and his whole body stiffened. The air between them was heavy and an invisible weight threatened to crush his chest in.

"What?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Michael nodded once. Short and definite.

His fingers loosened their touch on the papers, scattering them around his feet.

Michael rubbed a hand down his face, his movements jagged and tense. "I... We tried. It was too late."

Ricky moved then. He pushed past Michael, his feet running before he could think about it. His heart beat loudly against his chest as he got out of the small room he called his office. He didn't acknowledge some of the people who moved out of their way the second they saw him.

This couldn't be how everything ended!

He skidded a little when he took a sharp turn down the corridor, heading to the Med Bay. He slowed his steps into a stop, his breathing harsh when he spotted a crowd of people outside of the doors, not entering inside. He took a few steps toward them before he stopped, well aware his vision was fuzzy.

The words that croaked out of his mouth were harsh. "Move."

When no one heard him, he curled his fingers into fists and stomped to the people, pushing some of them away to clear a path.

"Move!" Ricky yelled, volume loud enough to startle the crowd. "Move!"

His feet lost coordination and he stumbled through the people, standing in the small room where there were four beds next to each other. In the third bed, right in front of the entrance, circled with people he recognised and two self-taught doctors, lay the victim. The man who led this amount of people into taking their freedom back.

"Ricky," his mother, Elly spoke, catching his attention.

Her watery blue eyes met his, a sad smile on her face. With a breath hitching in his throat, Ricky took a few steps toward her. He then looked at the man on the bed, laying without a movement... still, quiet.

So unlike the man Ricky had known him to be.

But that was what death did to people.

That was what death did to him.

"We thought he'd survive," Marilyn said, tugging on her white doctor's coat as she hovered near the bed. "But then things got complicated and we didn't have enough resources after the last raid by the government..."

Ricky didn't know if he wanted to take any step closer to Dae Hee. His heart broke into pieces and the huge gap in his chest was making itself known.

He lost Dae Hee.

He lost the man who practically taught him the ropes of this life.

"Oh," Ricky said, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat.

"Is it alright if you could give us a few minutes alone?" his mother asked someone, her voice soft.

He didn't know how she could sound so composed. He was barely holding it together inside. Every part of him vibrated with the need to scream and throw something around. A violent urge to quell this heavy crash of sadness and grief.

Denial.

How could Dae Hee, of all people, end up dead?

"Right, of course, yeah," Marilyn said.

Ricky barely registered the crowd leaving, the many footsteps echoed away from the Med Bay until all he could hear was his mother's sniffs and the soft cries of the twins — Dae Hee's children. He raised his watery blue eyes to the boy and girl, hugging each other. The taller, male twin met his eyes before his gaze flitted to the ground.

His heart ached.

His mother's touch on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts. He looked at her and before he could think further, she enveloped him into a tight hug. Ricky hugged her back without hesitation, burying his nose into her hair as he tried to calm himself. A sob got stuck in his throat but he knew he wouldn't be allowing himself to break down in front of witnesses.

Not yet.

He had to stay strong.

If not for himself, for his mother who needed an anchor since she had no one else but him right now. And for Dae Hee's children, who definitely no longer had anyone to rely on by blood. He pulled away a little, sniffing as he let his mother touch his face, wiping the tears away from his cheeks.

"I can't believe it," Ricky said, his voice scratchy.

"Me either," she said, shaking her head as she touched his hands. "But... we knew that no one is safe when we went into this."

"I know." But that didn't mean it made things any easier.

It was a consequence of this job. To make a change as big as this, they needed sacrifices. It was a cruel reality Ricky was subjected to since as long as he could remember. He reached to touch his mother's hands, fingers curling around hers'. A shuddering breath escaped his lips, sending chills running down his spine.

Dae Hee was dead.

"You should see him one last time," Elly said. "Before he's buried."

Ricky nodded, curt.

He didn't want to, if he was being honest, see Dae Hee one last time. He wanted to preserve the memory he had of the man and not have the last thing he saw of him was lying on the bed, unmoving and cold to the touch. His mother took a step back from him, removing her hands from his face. She pointed at the entrance of the Med Bay with a jab of her thumb.

"I'll wait for you outside."

"Okay, mum," Ricky said, dropping his gaze to the white floor.

He rubbed a hand down his face, lifting his head before squaring his shoulders. His eyes burned with unshed tears, threatening to once more run down his cheeks. With each heavy step, he neared the bed, touching the metal rails that were raised at either side of the frame. The cool touch left a zing underneath his skin.

Dae Hee's eyes were closed and his body was relaxed. He looked peaceful despite the bruising on his right cheek. Ricky didn't want to know where he was specifically injured to kill him. It was better if he didn't know.

He didn't think he could handle it even if he did.

"Appa's gone," the male twin said, his voice deep and scratchy.

"I know," Ricky replied. "I know."

"It'll be fine, right?" The female of the twins pulled away a little from her brother's embrace, looking directly into Ricky's eyes.

Her lips were chapped and her eyes were wet from all the crying. Her voice was timid, her shoulders hunched into herself as if to make her look smaller than she already was. It ached his heart to see how the death of a loved one could hurt someone so much.

Ricky opened his mouth to reassure her, to tell her that things would indeed be fine. What they needed was time.

But time was the one thing that they weren't given a lot of. Not when there was a war going on out there. So, he clamped his lips shut and looked away. He glanced at Dae Hee, taking his facial features in one last time before he took a step away from the bed.

He left the twins, exiting the Med Bay.

***

The air in the small hideout was melancholic and depressing. Yet, people still buzzed on, working and getting the next phase of the revolution into motion. There was no time to stop and properly mourn for the death of their beloved leader.

Ricky sat at the edge of his bed. The hall he was currently in was empty. There were about ten other mattresses lined up in one row, and none were occupied except his. He lay on the sheets, looking at the ceiling as he huffed a breath. Tiredness was waning his spirit to fight, and the sadness threatened to give him a migraine.

He remembered clearly of the time he had spent with Dae Hee. He curled his fingers into fists as he laid them on his chest. The memories flashed into his mind, his deep voice played with them as he recalled of the past. It had only been a few days ago when Dae Hee had shoved a custom-made alcoholic drink into his hands.

"Don't tell anybody but I made these when I had a little time in between. Made out of honey." Dae Hee grinned like a child who was told he was allowed to drink sugar before bed.

It didn't taste bad, the honey alcohol drink.

And now, he wouldn't be able to learn how it was made or watch those eyes twinkle in mischief whenever he thought Ricky needed to lighten up. The once-leader of the Uprising took his job seriously, but when he wound down with Ricky by his side, he was a man with a hope to have a better future, and a kid stuck in a grown-up's body.

"You could have lied to her and said it will be fine." The familiar drawl echoed into the empty room, startling Ricky.

He turned his head to the side and spotted Min Jae.

"I can't lie," Ricky stated. "She deserves the truth."

"Well, the truth made her sadder, so thanks," the male twin retorted as he moved to sit next to Ricky's sprawled body.

Ricky didn't give him an answer to the sass. Instead, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, wanting nothing more but to doze off from this pain in his chest.

"I'll miss him."

Ricky snapped his eyes open to look at Min Jae, his heart squeezing in his chest when his blue eyes met the chocolate brown ones.

"Me too, Jae," Ricky said, pushing himself to sit up. "He was a great man."

"Lousy father, though." Min Jae shook his head, running his fingers through his black hair. "But he tried his best."

Ricky cracked a smile, barely feeling it. "You two weren't the easiest kids to raise."

He received an eye roll as a response.

Silence brewed between them before Min Jae shifted his body so he was facing Ricky. "What now?"

"I don't know," Ricky replied, rubbing his palms together as he hunched forward. "We need to elect a new leader and I'm assuming it'll be Michael. He's Dae Hee's second-in-command."

"You can be a good leader too, Ricky," Min Jae spoke, catching his attention.

Ricky shook his head, scoffing at the mere thought of leading a rebellion. "I'm not fit for the job."

"You've been here since you were what? Three?" Min Jae pointed out. "I know Appa's been training you to take over the rebellion."

Ricky shrugged. "That might be true but it doesn't mean I'm fit for the job. Your dad had too much faith in me." After a second, he added, "Also, I've been here since I was five. Just so you know."

"Three, five, whatever, you've been here since you were a kid, that's the point," Min Jae said.

"You've been here since you were born," Ricky shot back a response. "Why not you challenge Michael for the position then? You're his son, after all."

Min Jae frowned, displeasure clearly written all over his face. Ricky could almost grin at that look on his face. It was so similar to Dae Hee's when he didn't get his way. He shook his head and the amusement vanished, melancholy taking its place.

"For a thirty-year-old man, you're quite a coward," Min Jae said.

Ricky stopped moving for a brief moment. The hurt that flashed into his mind had him frowning. He dropped his gaze to his hands and furrowed his eyebrows.

"I'm twenty-eight, kid," Ricky said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hardly a thirty-year-old yet."

He pushed himself out of bed and stood up.

"Hey, I'm twenty-one! Don't call me a kid!" Min Jae's voice reverberated the walls of the hall. "Where are you going?"

Ricky ignored him as he speed walked out of the place, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He pushed away the hurt he felt at being called a coward. He sighed, his shoulders drooping as he kept his head bowed down a little.

Min Jae didn't understand him and that was fine.

If that meant Ricky was a coward, well, that was what he was then.