Chapter Text
Thirty minutes before lights out, the walls were still glowing with the red and blue highlights each player had grown sorely accustomed to. Jung-bae had spent the last hour watching, waiting and hoping against hope that Young-il was right, and more than six players would see reason and decide to switch their vote to leave this hell hole. And yet, here they all sit in a circle discussing a plan that seemed just as ridiculous now as that hope had felt. A rebellion? Against masked men with guns? Finding some supposed leader and people who watched them play, and ending this whole thing? It seems impossible. More than impossible, if he's being honest with himself.
He has a wife, well, ex-wife, and a daughter waiting on the outside for him to make things right. And as he sits here, listening to Young-il and Gi-hun debate the specifics of what this “rebellion” is going to entail, he can’t help but glance over to Dae-ho to gauge his thoughts. The man wore his heart on his sleeve and his face, and his face is telling Jung-bae that he's just as unnerved by this plan as he is. Actually, he looks more than unnerved. He looks petrified.
Dae-ho, the man who had practically clung to his side since they met and who, Jung-bae has to admit, has grown fond of, looks around and finds his gaze. Something about those eyes, those pleading and petrified eyes he had seen during Mingle when the announcer called for two players and Jung-bae was ripped away from him before Dae-ho even had a chance to grab his hand, say to him “Hyungnim, can’t you do anything? Can’t you convince them to do anything else?"
But Gi-hun’s mind is set in stone, Jung-bae can see that better than anyone. He’s not the same man he was during that strike, calling out for his mother in his sleep. It almost feels like they’ve swapped places…almost. But not quite, because despite that look on Dae-ho’s face that worms its way under his skin, despite his own reservations about his best friend’s plan, Jung-bae will still follow him. Fuck it, twice as righteous, he tells himself. He has to make good on his name somehow, even if it is through this half-assed plan.
So he gives Dae-ho a look back of his own that says "You? A Marine? Scared of a little gunfire?"
And that’s that. Decision made, Jung-bae tears his determined gaze away from Dae-ho’s pleading one and listens closer to the plan. He misses the shakes that wrack Dae-ho’s hands, the way he seems to grow pale and tense just from listening to Gi-hun describe the sequence of the next hour. He misses the way that Dae-ho can barely manage to hit the pink guard with the glass, and the way he doesn’t seem to know how to or really even want to handle a gun. He misses the way that Dae-ho’s voice shakes, the way his hands fly to cover his ears at the first round of gunfire. He misses the terrified look on Dae-ho’s face when one of their group is shot right in front of him.
What he doesn’t miss is the pleading look Dae-ho gives him again when Gi-hun tells Young-il that he and Jung-bae are going to go further into the maze that this place seems to be. It worms back under his skin, the same way it did earlier. And yet, he tears his eyes away once more to follow Gi-hun…again. Twice as righteous, twice as righteous.
Their ammo is getting low now, and all Jung-bae can think is We’re fucked. Oh, but Dae-ho is getting it. Dae-ho is getting it?
He isn’t missing the shake in Dae-ho's voice anymore as he calls back over the radio, “Yes, Hyungnim! I’m on my way to get them. You can count on me, I’ll be there soon!” He certainly doesn’t miss the way that the ammo never finds its way back to them when the pink guards hold him and Gi-hun at gunpoint, and the one who seems to be the leader aims his own gun right at Jung-bae’s chest.
Jung-bae had always thought he’d find a way to live until he was old enough to make peace with dying, regardless of the drinking and the gambling and the generally poor life choices he’d made. He’d always believed that his final thoughts would be of his daughter, who he had certainly never made the impression of being twice as righteous on. And he is thinking of her, of course he is. He's never going to see his little girl again. But to his surprise, he finds himself thinking of Dae-ho too, and that look that had wormed his way under his skin. That look that tells him now why that ammo never made it back to them. Perhaps he had grown more fond of Dae-ho than he thought, and if he had more time, he might be able to think about how Dae-ho had managed to sneak his way so deeply into his brain in the three short days they had known each other.
“Look closely at the consequences of your little hero game.” the leader had said before he pointed the gun at Jung-bae’s chest. Twice as righteous, my fucking ass. Jung-bae is going to die, and he’s never going to get to live up to his name.
And then, the leader cocks his head and seems to change his mind. The bullet goes off, the way he knew it would, but instead of feeling that sharp impact that he thought would be his final blow, he sees it hit his best friend instead and suddenly, he's being hauled away to the dorms he never thought he'd see again.
Jung-bae’s head is spinning, circling the drain with the events of the last hour. Three days ago, his best friend that he had long since believed was dead appeared in here of all places. After three long years of nothing, he had Gi-hun back. And now he’s gone again, but there’s no mystery about it this time. He saw it right in front of him, heard the impact of his body hitting the ground, smelled the iron of the blood that leached out of him. Was he ever really back, though?
He had caught a glimpse of his best friend during their late-night watch together, but the Seong Gi-hun he knew, the Seong Gi-hun that he had opened a restaurant with, had gambled with, had stayed out late drinking soju with…that Gi-hun was gone. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less, it doesn’t mean it won’t stay with him forever. Instead of mourning though, Jung-bae finds himself looking around the dorms to see who else, if anyone else, has been dragged back.
Hyun-ju, Jung-bae thinks her name is. She’s standing with her group now, the same group that they had teamed up with during Mingle. Good, she’s too good for this place. She looks shaken, but still steady as ever. Jung-bae had not missed how she handled the gun, how she had shot the cameras out and had taken down eight of those pink guards by herself alone. How could he? The woman seemed to be a force of nature, and if there was anyone trained for the shit-show that the rebellion had become, it was definitely her. And Dae-ho had been dragged back too. Oh God, Dae-ho.
“What the fuck happened?” Jung-bae asks Hyun-ju in a hushed, somber tone, barely able to tear his gaze away from the shaking, twitching lump that Dae-ho had become in the corner to look at her. Just like Gi-hun wasn’t the Gi-hun he knew anymore, the Dae-ho that he’s seeing now is not the same one he’s seen and grown close to in the last three days. Sure, Jung-bae reasons with himself, Dae-ho was terrified before they left. He had heard the shakes in his voice over the radio, understood that the ammo never made its way back to them for a reason. But this? This was something else entirely.
“It’s his fault, you know. We all saw it, he came in here telling us to gather up the magazines and then when he went to bring them out he just…came back. Sat back down in the corner and stayed there.” another member of Hyun-ju’s team responds. The tone of his voice sets Jung-bae’s teeth on edge. He's just seen his best friend murdered in cold blood, and another one of his friends is in the corner looking like might as well be a corpse himself. Jung-bae looks at Hyun-ju for confirmation, and while she doesn’t say anything, he can see that there’s more to the story. Maybe something else that she had seen that’s causing her to silently disagree with her teammate.
Jung-bae is a lot of things. He’s in tremendous debt, he’s an ex-marine, ex-husband and at this point, something close to an ex-father. He’s been selfish in his life countless times, he’s grieving a friend he thought he knew. He’s covered in the blood of that friend, and now he’s listening to someone who didn’t even fight in the rebellion tell him that it’s Dae-ho’s fault the whole thing is over and failed, and watching Hyun-ju’s expression telling him that she doesn’t quite agree.
What he isn’t is someone who can look at Dae-ho, who looks more like a scared little boy than the person he’s grown closer to faster than anyone else he’s ever met in his life, and leave him alone. He can see it now, Dae-ho isn’t meant for something like this. Hell, Jung-bae doesn’t even know how Dae-ho ended up here. Perhaps less cautiously than he should, Jung-bae makes his way over to the corner that Dae-ho has claimed. He sees all the magazines gathered up in a jacket, and winces a little to himself.
“Dae-ho…” Jung-bae starts quietly, but before he can even get a second word out, Dae-ho is flinching and covering his ears as if the sound of Jung-bae’s voice was another gunshot. Jesus, man. Jung-bae thinks, but his reaction burrows into his skin just like everything else he’s seen Dae-ho do in the last few hours. He gives it a minute, wiping away some of Gi-hun’s blood off his face sullenly in the meantime.
Finally, with a sigh, Jung-bae claps Dae-ho’s shoulder and says with the distinct tact of a cardboard box, “Dae-ho, it’s just me. Come on, man. Us Marines have to stick together, right?”
He wanted to be supportive, he really did. Something about Dae-ho and the way he had tunneled his way into friendship in less time than it took Jung-bae to decide which horse to gamble on made it impossible to leave him be. But Jung-bae is a lot of things, and that ex-father bit is really showing. He was never really able to bond with his daughter, all the times she had nightmares or issues at school or with her friends, he constantly found himself at a loss on how to comfort her. He’d just tell her things would get better, and give her an awkward pat on the back. And this time, it seems no different. He watches as Dae-ho blanches at what he said, pulls his hands away from his ears and seems to shatter.
“Hyungnim, I…I really wanted to do well.” Dae-ho says to him through short, quick breaths that are in no way conducive to life. “I…I never served in the Marines. It was a lie. I was a social service personnel, I’ve never even handled a gun properly. Even my tattoo is fake.” He looks like he’s in physical pain to say it, and while Jung-bae doesn’t really know how to react, he really understands now why the magazines never made their way back. Dae-ho is scared, fucking terrified, maybe even still hearing those gunshots from the first round of gunfire. He’s been terrified since before they even left, and that pleading look he'd had on his face surges to the forefront of Jung-bae’s mind. “I lied so I could be with you guys. I thought if I were one of you, even a pathetic loser like me…could do anything.” Dae-ho finishes, then breaks down into Jung-bae’s arms entirely.
Jung-bae stiffens at first when Dae-ho clings onto him the same way he’s been doing ever since Jung-bae first noticed his tattoo. He thinks about a lot of things, but mostly, he thinks about Gi-hun. His best friend, now just another ex- in his life. If Dae-ho hadn’t lied, hadn’t gotten caught up in the rebellion, hadn’t failed to bring back those magazines, maybe Gi-hun would still be alive. Maybe he’d still be next to him, and they’d be on their way out of this fucking place making plans to get more soju. And Jung-bae wants that, God does he want that. He wants his best friend. He wants to be making more shitty plans with him and paying for his drinks again.
But as sure as Dae-ho is still holding onto Jung-bae’s shoulders despite how stiff he's gone, Gi-hun is dead and Dae-ho isn’t. And that look…Jung-bae thinks about that look Dae-ho had given him. He thinks about the way Dae-ho had protected Jun-hee in Mingle, thinks about how he had stood up for the X’s against the O’s, thinks about how he had pulled Gi-hun into the final room in Mingle too, and how he tried, he must have tried so hard to bring those magazines back despite how fucking scared he was. He thinks about how Dae-ho seems to have infiltrated his mind and his heart so much that even when Jung-bae thought he was going to die, he thought about him.
“Hey, Dae-ho. It’s alright, it’s alright. We’ll get the fuck out of here tomorrow. Come on, chin up.” Jung-bae says back to him, and he finally doesn’t miss the way Dae-ho looks at him with glassy, unbelieving eyes that have apology, gratitude, self-doubt and reluctant belief etched into them. Twice as righteous. Jung-bae thinks maybe, just maybe, he can start living up to it now.