AN: Okay, okay, a month later isn't too bad in comparison, is it? I completely and utterly blame any update on the lovely commieburger shipper IcySkyWind who's writing a 30 Days on the DMZ challenge that you should all go fucking read right now. Or else you're fired.
DISCLAIMER: Kankoku-ssi is in no way related to either Korea, or the DMZ, bur they are high on a list of places to visit before I die. She owns K/Im Dae Jung a bit more than Neitherworld does, but when it's time to roleplay them, Dae Jung is Neitherworld's. Yong Min and Sun Hae-new characters-belong to my girlfriend Jaljine of tumblr (look at me, unable to remember fanfic accounts), and Kankoku-ssi is in no way related to Hetalia, and Im Yong Soo does not belong to her.

An old man quietly walked into a cottage in a place far removed from where Dae Jung and Yong Soo were. The old man just walked in, leaning heavily on his cane. Long ago, his hair was the same shade of black as his grandson's, but now, it was white from age; his prime had been before the war, a good sixty or seventy years ago. Thankfully, his eyes were not yet marred by the same cataracts that had blinded his wife.

"Sun Hae?" The old man called softly, looking around the place they had called home since their son had left. "I'm home, dear."

A woman walked in, seemingly just as old—if not older—than her husband. Her eyes were marred by cataracts; she was blind now, the lenses in her eyes long clouded over. The majority of the lines on her face were laugh-lines however, so the obvious smile on her old, worn face was far from foreign. "Yes, Yong Min?" She asked her husband.

The smile on the old man's—Yong Min's—face grew then. He slowly walked over and hugged the old woman tightly. "I am back. I saw him one last time. He looks like his mother, the poor dear."

Sun Hae laughed lightly as the two of them sat on the small porch on the outside of the cottage. She gently felt for Yong Min's hair and untied it from the hair tie he kept it back in. "Oh? He does now, does he?" Sun Hae's question was quiet as her arthritic, shaky hands began to braid Yong Min's hair back, the same braid she always had, even back during the occupation, so long ago that it was out of any living North Korean's memory.

"Yes, he does. But he has his father's facial expressions. I don't think he laughed much, until recently, and already his faced looked old." Yong Min sighed softly, "He seemed so…tragically beautiful, like his mother. He had her face, but those expressions…It was as if Dae Soo was staring back at me through his son." He let out a small wince as Sun Hae tugged a knot out of his hair.

She sighed softly, smiling a bit. "It's beautiful in my head." The words were whispered softly, slowly as she kissed Yong Min's neck tenderly. "But oh, how I wish I could have met him."

"He has Dae Soo's voice. Nothing poetic word-wise, not like Dae Soo was, but the way he spoke… Like he had known so much more than he was letting on. It was our son, Sun Hae." Yong Min chuckled lightly, before he sighed. "He escaped."

Sun Hae's face fell for a moment, before she finished Yong Min's braid. She sat next to her husband and laid her head on his shoulder. "Ah…His name is Dae Jung, right?"

"Yes, dear."

Sun Hae was quiet once more. Slowly, they watched a truck pull up to the end of the road, which was still a distance away from the cottage.

"I can't wait to see our son again, Yong Min."

Dae Jung was quiet as he waited in his cell. They were no longer at the holding cell on the paralell; instead, Yong Soo and he had been moved to Geneva, Switzerland.

It wasn't much of a cell; Yong Soo was with him, and it was more furnished than Dae Jung's apartment in Seoul had been. Right now, Dae Jung was in that place between half asleep and half awake, living through memories while he held Yong Soo protectively close to him, the other Korean completely passed out, not used to the time zone.

Dae Jung had been so uncertain when he had been pulled out of the interrogation room. He had been staring soldiers down, with the same intimidating expression, all watching him like he was a rabid animal. Dae Jung didn't smile back; he just directed his gaze to the one who had appeared to be in charge.

"Where's Yong Soo?" Dae Jung had demanded as he remembered his arms being released. He made no threatening movements though; the last thing Dae Jung needed was to let them think he was a threat.

However, the question was answered as Yong Soo was wheeled out by an American—a nurse, it appeared. Yong Soo's eyes had lit up brightly as he instantly called out Dae Jung's name.

Dae Jung had run right over to him and hugged him tightly, one of the soldiers snapping at him. Ignoring the outside world for a moment, Dae Jung fell to his knees and laughed happily as he held Yong Soo close to him. They had just hugged for a long moment, laughing and crying happy tears.

But the moment had been interrupted as they were pulled away. They were to leave the country—anyone who had been close to them had been relocated for safety—and were to present this to the UN council.

Dae Jung remembered being about ready to scream; his rage had just kicked in. No. He refused. He would not go in front of people whom he had been raised—had been brainwashed into—to hate. Not them. But Yong Soo had pulled him down, calmed him down, by rubbing his knuckles and making a 'shoosh' sound and kissing his head. And Dae Jung's rage had been all over just like that.

Dae Jung kissed Yong Soo's head lightly as he closed his eyes for just a moment. It was hard to remember they weren't running in the snow to a car. That they weren't going to freeze to death. That they had escaped relatively intact. Yong Soo's leg wasn't coming back, and Dae Jung had been sentenced to crutches due to the tazer, but they were all healed and bandaged up. They were a bit sick, but they were not dying in a gulag outside of Pyongyang.

Yong Soo's eyes opened as he looked up at Dae Jung. "You need sleep." He murmured tiredly and pulled Dae Jung down to kiss him. "Just close your eyes; I know you're still wide awake, Dae Jung. There's a guard outside the door. If it makes you feel more comfortable, I will stay awake for a bit and let you sleep. Nobody's going to spirit us away. We are safe now."

Dae Jung chuckled softly as one of his eyes opened. Yong Soo just looked tired and beaten. He no longer had that haunted look in his eye. Food, sleep, and healthcare had taken away most of the taller of the two's troubles. Dae Jung squeaked as Yong Soo rolled them over though, putting the North Korean onto of his chest.

"Yong Soo—"

"You need sleep, Dae Jung. Just close your eyes for a bit, okay? We're not supposed to go easily for another few hours. A nap will make you feel better." Yong Soo pressed a tender kiss to Dae Jung's head as he leaned back on the couch they had both been on. "Besides, you're like a feather against me, you're that light. Sleep now, okay?"

Dae Jung quickly found that he couldn't argue. Yong Soo was rubbing his neck and back tenderly, and the lure of sleep had been appealing. He had been fighting off the demons of sleep for hours, watching the clock now. Perhaps it was best that he did take a nap, Dae Jung found himself thinking as he quietly fell asleep, snoring lightly on Yong Soo's chest.

The next thing Dae Jung was aware of was being in a suit and sitting next to Yong Soo at a meeting. They were both awkward and stiff, translators next to them translating as needed. Yong Soo was often quicker and would whisper what was going on in Dae Jung's ear.

Dae Jung would nod when either the official one or his lover whispered in Hangul in his ear. Dae Jung swallowed as he squeezed Yong Soo's hand. For a moment, neither said anything. The entire council was staring at them, but the attention focused to Yong Soo as he was wheeled to the front of the UN to begin his 'speech.'

"I'd like to apologize in advance," Yong Soo began nervously, "The most of my English I use is with my roommate. My name is Im Yong Soo, and I'm from Seoul. I'm only a freshman at university, so I'm still young. But I never ever would consider myself a traitor."

For the most of Yong Soo's speech, Dae Jung could only pick out a few words here and there. English may have been required, but by far, it had never been one of Dae Jung's strong points—the only one being worse was biology.

"I've only known Dae Jung since the beginning of the semester, but I would like to say that I trust him with my life. As far as I was concerned, he was another freshman like me. Maybe a bit too stressed out by college, and working a job, but if he was a spy, I didn't know until we were pulled to North Korea.

"Dae Jung was a spy. But I had thought he was caught up in the wrong stuff. I was wrong, and that's how I lost my leg. They wanted information I don't think he had. They tried to make him crack, so there went my leg." Yong Soo pointed to the missing limb as rather obvious proof.

"We were there for I don't know how long. Maybe hours, maybe days. It all kind of just blended together, although I know now it is July. We had been moved to what could have been Seoul. I thought it was at first, but then again, Dae Jung was panicking because I was dying from blood loss, so I don't believe my opinion can count for very much.

"We escaped, but not before I remember Dae Jung having a very wildly erratic breakdown. He had a nervous breakdown back in January, during winter break, and I remember him crying when Kim Jong-Il had died, but this was the one time I remember being scared that—although he wasn't going to die—that something even worse was happening and he was unreachable.

"The first few days back in South Korea were pure torture. Although North Korea had been bad, in a way, South Korea was worse. We were both ill, and we were both injured. They told you the medical results already, but there are a few things I would like to add in. Dae Jung still can't walk right. He limps around, and it's obvious I can't walk. I've woken up in a cold sweat, and I remember one night Dae Jung had barricaded himself in his closet to the point where nobody could get in. He was screaming about not going back.

"This doesn't sound like much, but that was only the first two or three days. I don't think either of us have had a proper sleep since before finals—please remember I am a college kid, and Dae Jung was passing as one. Finals are also in December. Eating properly has also been a luxury we haven't had. Put simply, we were denied rights as human beings. Thank you for listening to me. I'm—to be blunt—not sure why I have to tell you this, but this is the bare minimum of what I'm going to be telling the therapist. Thank you for your time."

There was no round of clapping. This was simply not the time or place for it. Dae Jung next limped up to the stand. He looked at Yong Soo, before the translator began to say something.

Dae Jung's speech was more chopped up; he had to wait every few sentences for the translator to do their job.

"I grew up in Pyongyang, so I can answer firsthand just about any question involving living there, and I will probably have to. There are radios built into the walls that are always playing propaganda, so the sound of silence makes me uneasy—yes, silence has a sound. There are the obvious differences between North and South Korea, but I can tell you the minor ones are what make it completely different.

"There are no people outside in Pyongyang. Although during the winter, the city is blanketed in snow, it's an empty city. Seoul is alive in a way that Pyongyang is not. Then again, for my stay in the city, the only time I had to worry about food was when I was looking for a job; I can't cook well, food is expensive, and the money I had been set up with had run out.

"I had no need to worry about my power being shut off, except when I thought I was going to be fired from my job. In Pyongyang, there are blackouts during winter, so I was accustomed to wearing more than three sweaters.

"So the mock-Seoul they have is where the spies have been trained. It is very different from Seoul, I have come to notice. But that should go without saying.

"In Seoul, I have never had to worry beyond getting caught. In Pyongyang, I had to worry almost every second of the day. If my parents were alive, they could tell you that their son was a born worrier. But my parents are both dead.

"Another difference between the countries? On record, neither of my parents are dead, yet I can tell you I found both of their bodies. North Korea does not recognize suicides. Who would want to leave our great country? My parents are not listed as dead. I've buried them both and worn the traditional white clothing for them.

"Although technically it is my republic, I never wish to return to above that border. I'd be put to death, or be put into a gulag. Although death would be a more pleasing option out of the two, it is simply not happening. Not when they are involved. Thank you for your time."

Dae Jung swallowed as he sat back next to Yong Soo. The taller of the two smiled at Dae Jung and squeezed his hand.

The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur.

AN: Hey remember that part where I beg for reviews? This is it.