Chapter Text
The sanctuary was silent, flickering candles on the altar casting long, wavering shadows. Han Seo knelt at the altar, his trembling hands clasped tightly together, head bowed low. The pastor’s sermon echoed in his mind— Jehovah Ezer, the Lord is my helper. He had preached out of the book of Psalms, a book that Han Seo had started reading a of couple weeks prior. Han Seo’s chest heaved as he fought to steady his breathing, his tear-streaked face pressed against his fists. The wine-red carpet beneath him was damp with his anguish.
Please… I need help , his mind screamed, the desperation in his prayer pouring out with each silent sob.
The congregation had long since filed out, their murmured conversations fading into the night. Even the soft playing of the organ and piano had ceased. But Han Seo didn’t notice. All he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat and the whispered cries spilling from his lips. He was alone in his brokenness.
Or so he thought.
“Look at you” the familiar voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Han Seo froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“On your knees again, little brother?”
Han Seo’s breath caught in his throat as Han Seok’s voice broke through his prayer. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t lift his head.
The sound of Han Seok’s slow, exaggerated footsteps reverberated through the empty church, each one louder than the last until they stopped right behind him.
“Jehovah Ezer,” Han Seok mused, his tone almost amused as he repeated the name from the sermon. “The God who helps. What a nice thought.”
Han Seo clenched his fists tighter, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity of his brother’s presence was suffocating.
“You think He’s going to come down from heaven just to rescue you?” Han Seok crouched beside him, his sharp suit a sharp contrast to Han Seo’s disheveled state–suit coat discarded back at the pew they sat together in, dress shirt wrinkled as he knelt, and red puffy eyes from crying. “Praying so earnestly. Tell me,” Han Seok continued, his voice dripping with mockery. “What could you possibly need help with, hmm?”
Han Seo slowly lifted his head, his tear-soaked gaze meeting his brother’s cold, calculating eyes. Han Seok loomed over him, blocking out the soft glow of the candles, his posture relaxed, as if he owned the very air they breathed. Knowing Han Seok, he probably thought he did.
“I…” Han Seo stammered, his voice cracking. “I just need… something more than you, Hyung.”
Han Seok laughed softly, a sound that sent a chill down Han Seo’s spine. “More than me? I think you forget who’s kept you alive all these years.” His hand reached out, brushing against Han Seo’s shoulder with a gentleness that felt more like a threat.
Han Seo swallowed hard, his throat tight as he tried to steady his voice.
“But Pastor Yang said that Jehovah Ezer is my helper,” he whispered, his voice trembling but firm. “Not you, Hyung.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Han Seok continued as if he didn’t even hear Han Seo’s rebuttal, his tone softening into something almost gentle, but his hand tightening on Han Seo’s shoulder said otherwise. “The only help you’ll ever get is from me, Little Brother. Isn’t that what you’ve always known?”
Han Seo shook his head, his tears falling harder now.
Han Seok whispered, leaning closer, his breath warm against Han Seo’s ear.
“You think you’ll find strength in this? Crying like a child, on your knees, begging at the altar for something that doesn’t exist?”
Han Seo’s voice wavered, but he managed to speak again. “I… believe He will help me. I have to.”
Han Seok’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, Han Seo,” he cooed like he was talking to a puppy. Han Seok patted his head, ruffling his gelled back hair, sighing heavily.
“Go ahead, Little Brother. Keep praying. Just remember—when your prayers fail, I’ll still be here. The only one who ever is.”
Han Seok’s hand slid from his hair to his shoulder, trailing down his arm as he stood, towering over his younger brother once again. He straightened his jacket and adjusted his cufflinks, his smirk never faltering as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty church.
As Han Seok reached the door, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. His voice, smooth and cold, sliced through the air, mocking the peace that was once in the sanctuary.
"When you come to your senses," Han Seok called, opening the door. "Meet me at the altar. I'll have you on your knees too, but unlike your God, I'll give you something worth begging for."
He slipped out of the church, not unlike a snake would, leaving it to swing shut behind him with an echoing thud.
Han Seo’s shoulders slumped as the sound rang in his ears. Han Seo knelt there, shaking, his hands unclasping to grip the carpet beneath him. His whispered prayer came again, barely audible. "Please… help me."