Donghae took Leeteuk’s hand as they started walking toward home.  Leeteuk looked down at the boy and smiled but a small thought wormed its way into his head that it was odd for a kid his age to still want to hold hands, but he brushed the thought away.  So what if Donghae was still young for his age? His innocence was endearing. 

“Leeteuk. . .”

“Yeah, Donghae?”

“Why did Officer Siwon want to help us?”

Leeteuk swung their hands as he thought this question over and then answered, “Because police officers are supposed to help people and he realized we needed help.” 

“But we were breaking the law, weren’t we?” 

The sound of birds chirping somewhere nearby stole Leeteuk’s attention.  He listened to them for a while and remembered a time when he had sat in his room as a child, looking out at the robins nesting in the oak tree outside of his house.  He had been jealous of them then, they had such a happy, perfect family. 

“We were breaking the law,” he answered Donghae with a strange note in his voice as he continued to look up at the trees, wondering where the birds were calling from.  “But I think Siwon realized that the law can’t always help everyone.”

“Yeah,” Donghae agreed sadly, “it didn’t help me.” 

“What do you mean?”

Brightening slightly, Donghae looked up and said, “Well, I mean, the law didn’t help me:  you helped me, and Kangin, and Heechul…Yesung. . . even Officer Siwon, now, I guess.” 

“What are you saying?” Leeteuk wondered, feeling the sun on his face. 

“I’m just. . . I’m happy,” Donghae attempted to explain.  “I’m happy and I didn’t know that I could be—”

Leeteuk squeezed Donghae’s hand.  “You deserve to be happy, Donghae, because you make other people happy, you know that?”

“I’m really sorry for leaving the house without telling you,” the boy suddenly said, “I didn’t stop to think about anyone but myself.” 

Understanding that Donghae was still genuinely upset about what he’d done and wasn’t ready to be forgiven, Leeteuk tried to explain, “Everyone gets upset.  You can’t be perfect, Donghae, and I don’t expect you to be.” 

The boy mumbled something which Leeteuk couldn’t hear so he asked, “What?”

Slightly louder he repeated, “I wish I could be perfect for you, though.”

Raw emotion flew from Leeteuk’s heart to his throat, not giving him a second to think as he answered, “I wish I could be perfect for you, too.”

“But you are.” 

Tears pricked at Leeteuk’s eyes and it took all of his power to keep himself moving forward.  There had been no doubt in Donghae’s words, no hesitation.  Biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying right then and there on the street corner, Leeteuk tried to find his bearing, tried to keep himself looking composed.  Donghae was watching him, he didn’t want to let him down, but that  blind trust, that kind of genuine appreciation, that real belief that he was special. . .he had never felt that.  He’d chosen his name “Leeteuk” ironically, because he was anything but special.  It was the exact opposite of his identity and that’s why no one from the old life he wanted no part of would know he was Leeteuk.  He knew that Park Jungsu wasn’t special, he’d heard that enough to know it was true. . . but Donghae never lied.  Donghae might not tell the whole truth, he might keep some things to himself, but in the end, he didn’t lie.  Very quickly swiping his hand across his face, Leeteuk succeeded at sounding normal.

“Thank you, but Donghae, I wouldn’t want to be perfect, and I wouldn’t want you to be perfect.” People expecting you to be perfect was the best way to feel imperfect. 

They came to a busier road and stopped to look for an opportunity to cross.  As Leeteuk looked at the passing cars, trying to distract himself from the old way of thinking now swirling in his head, he wondered for a moment why he hadn’t just taken them through the park.  The park was a nicer walk even if this was the more direct route. 

While they waited, a faint, high sound floated through the air.  Donghae froze, and then his hand went limp in Leeteuk’s hand, distracting the blonde from identifying the sound.

“What’s wrong?”

Exactly three seconds passed without Donghae answering.  Leeteuk knew because he counted, holding his breath, hoping as the boy stared aimlessly down the street that he wasn’t having another one of his episodes. 

At the end of the three seconds, Donghae flickered back into motion and looked up at Leeteuk.  Leeteuk released the breath he’d been holding, but wasn’t certain if he should start being relieved or not.

Meeting Donghae’s brown eyes, he squeezed his hand questioningly, saying nothing, and Donghae obediently squeezed back.  

“Is it time to cross?” he asked, with a tone that was both convincing and familiar to Leeteuk:  he was pretending that it was okay.  Suddenly recalling the earlier sound, Leeteuk listened for a moment, wondering what it was but it had already passed. 

“Let’s just go home now,” Leeteuk conceded, knowing this would remain just another mystery on the long list that belonged to the boy.

“Okay,” Donghae agreed, suddenly bursting back into his old excitement and bouncing a bit on his toes as they started to cross the street.  “I can’t wait to tell everyone that we don’t have to hide anymore!” 

A mischievous twinkle entered Leeteuk’s eye and he looked down at the boy and asked, “Hey, Donghae, what do you think about maybe having a little fun with this?”

…

                Kangin jumped up out of his chair at the sound of keys being fumbled with outside the door.  He wasn’t even ashamed at his edginess.  He looked over at Heechul, who had stopped halfway from getting up from the couch.  They exchanged a genuine look of unease.  Neither of them had left the living room since Leeteuk’s departure and they’d barely said a word to each other in the past half hour, but they didn’t need to.  They understood each other perfectly well.  Their fear was the same.

                As one they looked over at the hallway to where Yesung had just appeared like a shadow, dressed in black, looking almost guilty for disturbing them.  Kangin waved him into the room though and he scurried quickly over to a spot against the wall and stood there biting his finger nails and watching the front door.

                The door then attracted all of their attention as the handle turned and the barrier swung into the room revealing only Leeteuk.  The older man shuffled into the house looking utterly defeated and carelessly left the door open behind him.

                Kangin felt his heart sinking but tried to shake the feeling away.

“No,” he thought he heard Heechul breathe, but he couldn’t be sure.

Leeteuk picked his head up from the floor and looked at them all in turn, the solemnest of expressions painted on his normally angelic features. 

“Guys,” he began, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”

                It took only those few words for Kangin to know that Leeteuk was messing with them.  He knew Leeteuk better than anyone.  He knew just by the tone of his voice. . . He started to smile before Leeteuk had even finished,

                “Unfortunately, Donghae’s going to be staying with us forever.” 

                “Leeteuk, I am going to fuc—” 

                That was all Heechul managed to say as Donghae leapt into the apartment dramatically and Kangin started laughing hysterically.  It really was hysterical laughter too.  He had a surprisingly gentle laugh, despite his appearance, but at the moment it was completely fueled by the disappearance of the panic that had been bombarding him.

 Heechul had sunk back down completely onto the couch and no one seemed to notice the way Yesung leant back against the wall a little, exhaling audibly. 

                 Donghae stood in the limelight of the chaos he and Leeteuk had caused, beaming.  Leeteuk smiled wide at him in return and they high fived. 

                Kangin wasn’t angry.  He couldn’t be, even if he wanted to be.  He didn’t know why he had been so nervous.  Well, he knew exactly why he had been so nervous:  because he cared.  He cared about Donghae.  He cared about the weird collection of people he’d started to think of like a family.  It was strange and wonderful to care again, to actually deeply care about someone else.    

                After allowing Leeteuk and Donghae a moment to revel in their self-gratifying exchange, he waved the boy over and Donghae immediately bounded up to him, landing with a little bounce. 

                “Do you care to explain what you were doing outside of the house, young man,” he asked, putting on his best parental tone. 

                “I was. . . being stupid,” he answered sheepishly, but hoping that Kangin’s tone was as playful as it sounded, he didn’t completely lose his excitement. 

                “And why were you stealing?”

                Again, feeling embarrassed, Donghae admitted, “I ran into some old bullies that asked me to do it for them and I was too scared to say no.”

                A protective feeling broiled in Kangin but he left it there for later, because Donghae was home safe.  He could find those pip squeaks that had threatened him later. 

                “And then one more thing I guess. . .” Donghae titled his head to the side expectantly to hear the last thing Kangin was going to say. 

                “Why on Earth are you upside down?” 

                “But I’m not…”

                In the next moment, Kangin had picked Donghae up with one arm and flipped him over.  The boy yelled half out of shock and half out of joy. 

                “Put me down!”

                “I’m sorry, what?” Kangin goaded, flashing Leeteuk a grin as his roommate watched on in complete amusement.

                “I think Donghae’s gone crazy,” Leeteuk told his roommate with a sigh, “we might have to send him to the nut house.” 

                Heechul, who had remained silent up until that point, finally managed to extract himself from his own nest of emotional upheaval.  He focused in on Leeteuk as if he honestly didn’t notice the upside down child currently bargaining for his safety with Kangin.  He felt weirdly pained.  He couldn’t place the feeling, but he had never felt so…terrified?  Betrayed?  There wasn’t a word for it.  He just wanted to slap Leeteuk really hard for joking around.  He had honestly thought for a second that Donghae had been found out.  Gosh, he didn’t know what he would have done if the goofball had been taken away from them.  He realized he was being silly to have been so worried, a voice in the back of his head laughing at him for becoming so domestic, and for getting all worked up like Leeteuk would have, but he couldn’t help himself.  He’d been turned domestic against his will by this strange little group of people, by his bizarre little family that made him want to speak cleanly, and come home sober, and yell at people for pulling pranks. 

                Leeteuk had been watching these thoughts boil around in Heechul’s mind with apprehension as the other man’s face flickered while he looked at and beyond him.

                  He waited to be yelled at for being so cruel, but when Heechul finally rejoined reality, the words out of his mouth were, as always, weirdly unrelated, “What’s in your pocket?” 

                His hand moving before his mind had caught up enough to figure it out. Leeteuk patted his hand against his left and then his right pocket, finding the little white phone card that Siwon had given him sticking out of his right pocket.

                “Oh,” he said in surprise, “Siwon gave this to me.” 

                “Siwon?” Kangin questioned, putting Donghae down on the ground in the proper, upright position. 

                “Yeah,” Donghae said, tilting his head back so he could look up at Kangin, “Officer Siwon said he was going to help us, right Teukie-hyung?” 

                A small smile curled at Leeteuk’s lip at this new nickname which had rolled easily out of Donghae’s mouth.  He wasn’t sure if he’d learned Teukie from Heechul or Kangin, but he liked the way it sounded together with “hyung.”

                At Donghae’s revelation, both Heechul and Kangin gave their blonde roommate a strange look.  “Officer Siwon?” Heechul finally questioned, remembering how unhappy Leeteuk had been about that person’s existence not too long ago.  He couldn’t image a cop offering to help them and if the cop knew they needed help, it probably meant he knew about Donghae.  It sounded fishy to him. 

                “I can explain it all,” Leeteuk said, flicking absentmindedly at the card with his left hand “but it’s going to take a while.” 

                To display his obvious interest, Kangin sat down in his arm chair and gestured for Leeteuk to begin.  “I’ve got all the time in the world,” Kangin said.  Heechul nodded his agreement.

                “Yeah,” Donghae confirmed cheerfully, “We’ve got forever.” 

                Leeteuk smiled as he moved toward the couch and playfully pushed Donghae ahead of him.  “Yeah, yeah, you sentimental pabo.  Sit.  I’ll explain from the beginning I guess.” 

…

                Sometime later, everyone was in silent contemplation, trying to pass judgment on what Leeteuk had just related.  Leeteuk had spared some of the more gory details for Donghae’s sake and to be sensitive to his friends.  He also tried to cast Siwon in the best light he could, realizing it was very easy to make the officer sound like a creep.  He knew that he himself never would have understood what Siwon was saying about fate and bending the rules and needing a win a few months ago.  It made more than enough sense to him now though.

                “Are we just all going to sit here or…” Donghae spoke after a while.  He’d been fidgeting in his seat for the past 5 minutes.

                “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want,” Leeteuk responded. 

                “But I want to stay, I just want everyone to not be so serious.”

                This did little to break the mood as everyone was still thinking about what they had found out.  Siwon was, out of the goodness of his heart, it seemed, offering to help them.  To an audience of people accustomed to not trusting others, it was a hard concept to sell. 

                “There’s got to be a catch,” Heechul said, finally speaking what they were all thinking. 

                “There isn’t.”  Leeteuk knew he was lying, but he felt weirdly defensive.  He was the one asking them to trust Siwon after all, if they didn’t trust Siwon it was like they weren’t trusting him.  At the same time, he wasn’t sure what to make of Siwon quite yet either.  He was throwing his blind faith behind this guy, admittedly, because he didn’t have a choice.  If Siwon was up to something it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.  By knowing about Donghae, Siwon had a lot of power in his hands.  And, despite everything, he did find himself trusting Siwon, because he did have that power but he wasn’t using it.  At least not yet. 

                “I mean, I find—” Yesung stopped abruptly as everyone jumped and looked over at him where he stood against the wall. 

                “How long have you been standing there?” Heechul wondered, the only one crass enough to ask.

                “The whole time,” Yesung said as if he didn’t quite understand the question. 

                Blinking a few times while everyone continued to look at him, Yesung then said as if he’d never been interrupted, “I find it kind of weird that Siwon knows so much about us.”

                “You find it weird. . .” Heechul muttered, laughing to himself.

                “Whatever the case,” Kangin surprisingly said, shooting Heechul a look to shut him up, “we’re just wasting time by sitting here thinking about something we have zero control over.  Let’s just be thankful that Donghae is home and that as far as we know, things will be okay.”

                Leeteuk scrunched his nose slightly in confusion and gave Kangin a look.  His friend pretended not to notice, but subtly shot him a look.  Leeteuk quickly read Kangin’s mind—they could talk about this later when Donghae wasn’t around.  Turning this assertion into action, he stood up, “Okie dokie, then,  I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hungry and I don’t feel like cooking anything.”

                “Oh my gosh, are we going to eat out?” Donghae exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.  “Can we get pizza?  No, let’s just go and have street food!  Like we can get gimbap and stuffed sausage and. . .”

                “Why don’t we just order in?” 

                Leeteuk was surprised that Kangin was the one to say this.  He liked to get out of the house more than anyone. 

                “Something wrong?” he asked his long-time friend. 

                “I just don’t feel like going anywhere,” Kangin answered with a shrug.

                While this wasn’t totally unreasonable, Leeteuk couldn’t believe that Kangin of all people didn’t want to go somewhere.  The only time Kangin wanted to hang around at home instead of going out was in the morning when he woke up.  Or rather didn’t wake up.

                A strange feeling started to make the hair on Leeteuk’s neck stand up and he got the sense that someone was watching him.  He turned but no one was behind him.  Yesung was still standing across the room, but he wasn’t looking at him.  He was looking at Kangin, and blinking quite frequently in what Leeteuk had surmised was his puzzled face.  Kangin must have noticed Yesung looking at him, since Leeteuk had sensed Yesung’s dark-eyed look even though it wasn’t directed at him, but Kangin was looking everywhere but at the owl-like Yesung, a neutral, slightly aloof look on his face. 

                “We don’t have to go out,” Donghae said with wide innocence, unexpectedly changing his tune, “we can have a lot of fun here too.” 

                It was Donghae’s not too subtle glance at Yesung that finally alerted Leeteuk to what was going on. 

                “I agree,” he said, feeling a smile start to spread across his face.  He tried to hide it by looking over at Heechul to find the other man nodding as well.  He was still sitting on the couch whereas everyone else was standing, and Leeteuk couldn’t tell if he’d also noticed what had just happened.  Knowing him, though, he knew. 

                “I’ll get the menus, then,” Leeteuk said with a little bit of a happy bounce to his step as he walked to the kitchen. 

                Heechul stood up announcing, “I’m going to go change.” 

                “He said we’re not going out,” Kangin reminded him.

                “I know,” Heechul said as if he didn’t understand Kangin’s confusion. 

                Shaking his head, Kangin sighed, “I’m going to go start some work, then.  I’m going to be so far behind for tomorrow.” 

                “Can I help?” Donghae wondered. 

                “Uh,” Kangin wanted to say no, but he looked at Donghae’s eager expression and agreed, “Sure, why not.” 

                With an unhealthy level of excitement, Donghae moved around the couch and started to walk away.  Kangin caught up with him and his voice floated back into the living room, “Also, why did you leave the house in the first place?”

                “Oh, I just wanted to try to get something. . .”

                The rest of the conversation trailed off, but not before Heechul had heard enough that a light bulb went off in his head and he turned around, locking onto Yesung, who was still just standing against the wall, looking surprised.

                Heechul walked up to Yesung and was actually standing right in front of him before the other snapped out of his daze and noticed he wasn’t alone.  With questioning eyes, he looked at Heechul who responded by reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out a silver chain. 

                He held out his closed fist and Yesung automatically extended his hand.  Heechul dropped the object into it and it only took a moment for the young man to realize what was in his hand. 

                Heechul couldn’t see the reaction on Yesung’s face as his head was bowed toward his hand, but he could sense it in the way Yesung seemed to have stopped breathing, his eyes fixed on the two gold rings looped onto the silver chain.

                Yesung’s head shot up, his mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but Heechul spoke instead, “I think that Donghae and I may have had the same idea.”

                A shot of old guilt crossed Yesung’s face and Heechul assured, “No, don’t worry.  It’s a good thing.”

                “I…” Yesung stuttered, looking back down at the rings, “Thank you.” 

                “Welcome home, Yesung,” Heechul smiled and then turned away with a flounce, seeming quite pleased with himself as he disappeared around the corner.  “Call me when we’re ready to order.” 

                Yesung just looked from the direction of the voice to the rings in his hand again, then toward the different directions that everyone had disappeared to, and a smile curled on the left side of his face. 

…

                With the news that Donghae was going to be able to stay with them without fear, and the extensive but ultimately positive discussion he’d had with Kangin about the issue in depth after dinner, Leeteuk expected to sleep soundly through the night.  Their little stay-in dinner had ended up being a lot more fun than going out would have been and there was an added air of safety that had convinced Leeteuk that this night would be peaceful.

                Which was why he was confused as he blinked his eyes open to pitch darkness.  Sleep clouded his vision as he tried to figure out why he’d woken up.  He couldn’t remember, but he seemed to recall something to do with footsteps.  He rolled over, looking around his room to see if there was anyone there, but everything seemed to be at peace.  Why on Earth had he woken…

                A faint scream reached his ears and his heart leapt as he threw off the covers, wide awake.  It was Donghae. 

                His bare feet padded against the carpeted floor as he moved quickly toward the boy’s room.

                Already preparing himself for whatever he’d find, Leeteuk came to a halt as he entered the boy’s room only to find, in the glow of the bedside lamp, that Heechul was already there, sitting on the bed beside Donghae.  The boy was crumpled forward, propped up by stiff arms as his hands pressed down into the mattress; his eyes were frozen wide and he was breathing heavily.  His gaze was fixed on a point halfway across the bed, but Leeteuk knew he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him.  Heechul looked like he’d been as panicked as Leeteuk had been a moment ago, his shoulder’s rising and falling like he’d been in a rush.  Heechul wasn’t saying a word, but Donghae already seemed to be calming somewhat in his presence.  As Leeteuk watched, Heechul kindly reached out and brushed the boy’s hair away from his forehead, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” Leeteuk asked gently, afraid to break the security of the silence.

“Just a bad dream,” Heechul said evenly, still looking only at Donghae, who finally glanced over at him with a slight turn of his head.

“You doing alright?” 

Donghae nodded shakily and pushed himself back toward the headboard, freeing his arms.  Retreating back into himself somewhat, Donghae stared down at nothing as he swallowed and swiped a shaking hand across his forehead.

“Why don’t I get you some water, okay?” Heechul said calmly as he started to get up.

Without warning, Donghae’s hand shot out and grabbed onto Heechul’s wrist.  A half formed, “No” had started to escape Donghae’s lips but he cut the word off, looking uncomfortable and uncertain.  He did not, however, release his hold on Heechul’s sleeve.

Heechul slowly sat back down and covered over Donghae’s hand with his own.

“It’s okay,” he assured quietly, “I won’t go anywhere.” 

He looked over at Leeteuk who had been so engrossed in the moment he hadn’t moved an inch.  Under Heechul’s gaze, however, he reanimated.  “I’ll get it,” he said in the same gentle voice as before, still very aware of how fragile the hold Heechul had on Donghae’s composure was.

                It felt weird to be leaving when Donghae was so clearly in distress, but he knew that Heechul was taking care of things.  He still found it hard forcing himself to let someone else help.  And he tried not to, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at how useless he was when Heechul was there to take care of things.  Acknowledging this feeling as silly, he went out into the hallway.

The house was warm in the way that the air didn’t seem any different from one’s skin and the air didn’t stir when it was breathed in.  Leeteuk moved without haste in the direction of the kitchen, trying to give Heechul more time to talk with Donghae.  It was strangely calm and still that night despite the disturbance Donghae’s nightmare had caused. 

Reaching the kitchen, his feet sticking slightly to the tiled floor, he walked to the sink, grabbed a cup and turned the water on low so that the noise of the pipes wouldn’t wake up the other family members.  As the cup slowly filled, his mind wandered to his poor dongsaeng.  Waking or sleeping these episodes seemed to come out of nowhere.  Today had been such a good day, in the long run.  He thought back to the moment on the street corner and knew now that it was connected to the boy’s nightmare.  This wasn’t the first bad dream that Donghae had had, either.  It seemed to be a weekly occurrence.  Sometimes he’d get two or more a week and other times there would be a long stretch without one and they’d think just maybe he’d be alright until something like this would happen again.

Cold water spilled over Leeteuk’s hand as the glass overflowed and he hissed in surprise, reaching out quickly to turn off the faucet. 

Dumping out some of the excess water, he reached for a towel and dried his hands before wiping down the outside of the glass.  He spent a long time meticulously removing every last ounce of moisture from the outside of the cup.  It was somewhat out of the desire to give Heechul a little extra time, somewhat out of fear that he’d just be in the way if he went back too soon, and somewhat out of a tendency toward OCD levels of cleanliness.

Feeling somewhat satisfied, he turned to leave and came to a halt.  The leftover takeout box was sitting on the kitchen table next to a book of fairytales.  Confused for a moment, he suddenly realized why Heechul had managed to get to Donghae’s room before him.  He’d already been up.

Shaking his head with a bit of a smile, he put the water glass down and started to clean up the mess, putting the box back in the fridge, closing the book, wiping down the table.  When his desire for perfection was somewhat satisfied, he picked the glass back up and headed for Donghae’s room again. 

He didn’t hear anything when he approached, but he figured that was probably a good thing, since it meant Donghae must have been calm.  He found himself practically tiptoeing as he went back into the room and then stopped. 

Heechul and Donghae were both lying on the bed, Heechul practically falling off the edge on top of the covers and Donghae only half lying under the sheets.  They both appeared to be asleep, Heechul’s hand still on top of Donghae’s head like he’d dozed off while the boy’s hair.  Both were in a slight state of disarray and Leeteuk figured they must have been pretty tired if they’d been able to fall asleep like that, barely fitting on the twin bed. 

A smile uncurled across Leeteuk’s face and he walked over to the bedside table, putting the water glass down gently before turning off the little lamp, plunging the room into a soft darkness.  Then, pulling out a blanket from the bureau, he managed to throw it over Heechul without waking him or Donghae.  He had a momentary flashback to that first night Heechul had stayed at their house and couldn’t help but continue to smile at the contrast between then and now.  How different things were.

He started to leave when he heard a small noise escape Donghae.  He turned to see the boy rolling his head slightly, still sleeping, but maybe he’d gone back to sleep too fast and returned to the nightmare.  Before he could do anything, Heechul’s arm fell subconsciously off of Donghae’s head and rested on his shoulder.  The small action seemed to calm the boy enough that he stopped moving and seemed to relax back down to the point that Leeteuk felt comfortable leaving even though a twinge played at his heart.  Pausing in the doorway, he looked back at his two lost boys and wondered what he’d done before either of them.

Then he turned and left the room, feeling like he hadn’t done enough, hoping that Donghae would be alright.  The poor kid just couldn’t catch a break.  Even when things went in his favor, whatever was plaguing him about the death of his parents always showed up again.  Leeteuk thought about the look that always found its way back onto Donghae’s face:  that blank, sightless look, and suddenly felt helpless to do anything.  What was he thinking?  He took this kid in off the streets and lied and committed crimes left and right to keep him.  This kid who wouldn’t speak about the past but must have seen so much.  He wanted to believe that he was enough to fix all of Donghae’s problems, to fix everyone’s problems.  He wanted to believe that all of them together could even be enough but he knew they weren’t. 

Donghae had left the house and wandered around on the streets because he thought he could get a pair of rings.  He readily approached and trusted strangers, he was so young for his age.  He was plagued by nightmares and flashbacks and. . .and Leeteuk suddenly realized that he couldn’t begin to untangle all of these problems.  He wasn’t qualified.  Donghae needed help and he couldn’t give it to him.  They might have been able to keep the ghosts at bay, but if they turned their back for a second. . . If he was a good hyung, he wouldn’t let Donghae suffer hoping they’d be able to magic all of the troubles away maybe next week, next month, next year.

The next thing he knew he was grabbing his phone off of the kitchen counter and a small white card out of the mail basket.

He pressed the phone to his ear as it began ringing.  After the second ring, a voice answered, “Hello?”

“Um, yes, Choi Siwon?  This is Park Leeteuk calling.”   

 “Oh, that was fast.  How are you?” 

There was an odd hesitation in the Officer’s voice.  Leeteuk turned around and caught sight of the clock.  It was one in the morning.  Embarrassment washing over him he stuttered, “I am so sorry.  I just realized how late it was.” 

“Not a problem,” Siwon answered cheerfully, though he was definitely covering over a yawn.  “I’m guessing you had a good reason, and if you didn’t, well, it’s always nice to chat, isn’t it?”

Finding Siwon’s comfortable way of speaking encouraging, Leeteuk went on without his previous embarrassment, “I did actually have a reason for calling.”  Remembering this reason, his voice naturally adjusted to a lower, more serious tone and he said, “It’s actually Donghae.”

“Is he alright?” Siwon surprised him by interrupting with genuine concern.

“He…is…” Leeteuk struggled to say, because he knew that he wasn’t, but he didn’t want to worry Siwon.  That was new, he realized:  being careful not to worry Siwon instead of being afraid of him.  Shaking this thought away for later consideration, Leeteuk spoke with a sigh, covering his forehead with his free hand, “You know that psychiatrist you recommended for Donghae?”

“Shindong,” Siwon answered.

“Yes,” Leeteuk agreed, even though he was fairly certain Siwon had never told him the man’s name.  “I was hoping you could help me get in touch with him.  I want to get Donghae in to see him as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” even through the phone, Leeteuk could tell there was a sympathetic, accommodating look on Siwon ‘s face.  “Did something happen?”  Siwon didn’t sound hesitant about asking the question and Leeteuk didn’t feel weird about answering at length,

“Yeah, he had another nightmare tonight and I—” he exhaled in resignation and sat down on the couch, “I am just realizing that I am not qualified to help him.” 

“Does he get these nightmares a lot?”

“I’d say so, and then he has these moments where he spaces out and I think he’s having flashbacks.”

“To what?”  Siwon wondered.

“I honestly don’t know.  He won’t tell us.  It could be anything that happened while he was living on his own or it could have to do with his parents’ death.”

“What exactly do you know about Donghae?” Siwon asked with genuine curiosity.  “I know it must seem like I stalked your family and all, but I honestly know very little about any of you.  I just know that you were involved with something illegal which turned out to be for a very good reason.  How did you even end up with him living with you?” 

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself to somehow explain, Leeteuk began, “I found him when he was trying to steal from one of the local convenience stores.  Which is why I was so worried today when I found out he’d been caught stealing.  I didn’t know if it was by the same person as last time or someone who would remember him and remember that he was homeless.  He says that his name is Lee Donghae, but each of my roommates and I tried searching that name and we’ve come up with nothing.” 

Taking advantage of a natural pause in Leeteuk’s story, Siwon explained, “You know, I can use the police database and see if that comes up with anything if you’d like.” 

“I’d like that, actually,” Leeteuk said, going against the decision he’d made long ago.  It was true that Donghae would tell them about himself when he was ready, but the way things were looking, Donghae might never be ready and Leeteuk wanted to know.  Donghae needed them to know.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell them, he couldn’t physically say it.  He’d buried the thoughts away so he wouldn’t have to face them.

“Good.”  Siwon’s voice shook Leeteuk from his thoughts.  “Cause I was going to do it whether or not you said yes.” 

There was a momentary silence, and then Siwon laughed, and then Leeteuk breathed a laugh as well, shaking his head. 

“Is there anything else?”

“You called me, remember?”

“I mean, is there something else that you want to know?”

“I’m guessing that’s all you know.”

“It is,” Leeteuk admitted.  “That’s why I need help.”

“Well, Shindong is really hard to get appointments with,” Siwon cautioned.  “He does work both for the department and independently.  But, you know, not everyone has a referral from me.” 

Perking slightly, Leeteuk wondered, “So what does that mean?”

“It means that before the week is over you will have not only one appointment, but a fixed time slot.” 

“What are you?” Leeteuk asked, half joking in his amazement at Siwon’s eagerness to help.

“I’m very good,” Siwon joked back with a laugh. “And I also have work in the morning so if you’re all set.”

“Yes, sorry, of course.  Thank you, again, for everything,” Leeteuk said, “and I’m sorry for calling so late.” 

“Not a problem at all.  I’m here to help.  Expect a call from me sometimes tomorrow.”

“Thanks again,” Leeteuk said again lamely.

“Goodnight, Leeteuk.” 

“Night.” 

Leeteuk hung up the phone and stared at the wall, feeling weird.  He had just called a police officer at one in the morning.   He didn’t really think of Siwon as a police officer anymore though. 

He moved to stand and head back to his room and stopped when he saw one of his textbooks sitting under the coffee table. 

“Aish,” he exhaled, shaking his head as he realized he had a paper to finish for tomorrow. He had completely forgotten.  He reached under the table and pulled out the book, grabbed his laptop from the side table, and sat in the soft glow of the computer light, typing away. 

. . .

Leeteuk stifled a yawn as he walked down the too white corridor.  He’d managed to email the paper in on time but he’d only gotten 4 hours of sleep as a result.  Siwon had called him, as he’d promised, in the morning.  Just way too early in the morning.  Leeteuk knew he deserved to be woken up so early seeing as he’d called Siwon at one in the morning, but at the same time, he’d been a little upset about the early morning wakeup call asking him if he had free time around 4 o clock.  He did, but he wished he’d gotten the phone call closer to 4 o clock. 

He had woken up to find that apparently Heechul had taken Donghae to school, allowing him to sleep in.  He’d slept on the couch and was amazed that he’d managed to sleep not only through Donghae going to school but also Heechul and Kangin going to work.

The appointment Siwon had gotten for him was a little close to when Donghae got out of school so he’d had to rush to get the boy and rush to catch the bus to take them to the Child Protective Services building where the psychiatrist had his office and now they were rushing down the corridor, already 15 minutes late to an appointment that they shouldn’t have been able to get. 

“Leeteuk, can you slow down a bit.”

Obeying immediately, Leeteuk apologized, “Sorry, Donghae, we’re just really late.” 

“Do you think this Shindong guy is a nice guy?”

“I’m sure he is,” taking a moment to consider Donghae’s apprehension he added, “And if he’s not we’ll just find someone else to go to.” 

It suddenly occurred to him how sudden this was for Donghae.  He hadn’t even known until a half hour ago that he was even going to see anyone. 

“Leeteuk?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

Rolling his head at the way Donghae knew just how to stab at his poor heart, Leeteuk looked down at him and said, “Of course not, but I was worried about you and I think that Siwon is right, you need to talk with someone outside of the family.” 

“Why?”

Stopping so he could look Donghae in the eye, even if it meant eating up another few precious moments, Leeteuk tried approaching this from a different direction, “I used to go to a psychiatrist.  Do you think I’m crazy?” 

A smirk started to cross Donghae’s face and Leeteuk raised a warning eyebrow. 

“No,” Donghae laughed. 

“Good answer.  And I’m sorry I kind of sprung this on you.  It’s just that Siwon trusts this man and it’s hard to get to see him because lots of people think he’s very good at his job.” 

“But I don’t have to keep seeing him if I don’t want to.”

Leeteuk felt his heart caving at Donghae’s brown eyes.  How on Earth did someone say no to those eyes?

“You don’t have to, no.  But you do have to see someone, because I want you to have some help.” 

“I still don’t see why I can’t just talk to you guys,” Donghae mumbled.

“Because you can’t,” Leeteuk said honestly with a hint of defeat. “Donghae, you can’t talk to us and I know it’s not because you don’t want to.” 

Donghae hung his head and Leeteuk felt bad for being so forward with him. He knew he was doing the right thing, though.  Donghae couldn’t back out of this. 

“Either I’ve walked out of my office into a world of blonde Asians, or you must by Park Leeteuk.”

Leeteuk looked around to see a slightly rounder man walking out of one of the rooms down the hallway.  He had a bright smile on his face and kind features which immediately transformed the atmosphere.

“Yes, that’s me, sorry we’re late.” 

Addressing Donghae, Shindong said, “You couldn’t drive your grandfather here any faster?”

“He’s not my grandfather,” Donghae laughed.

“I’m not his grandfather,” Leeteuk affirmed, happy to play along like he was offended. 

“Oh,” Shindong said, his mouth turning into a perfect “o.”  “Then you must be his grandmother, my mistake, ma’am.”

Donghae laughed and Shindong extended his hand to him.  “I’m Shin Donghee.”

“I’m Par—Lee Donghae,” Donghae said, happily using his real name and seeming surprised by how similar their names were.

“Ah, but you can just call me Shindong,” the psychiatrist said, “you see, they told my parents I couldn’t be Donghee anymore because there was someone much more famous than me named Lee Donghae.”

“Really?” 

“No,” Shindong laughed, amused by Donghae’s gullibility.  “Now, why don’t you head on down to my office.  It’s the one right there with the door open and the undeniably aroma of awesome.” 

Donghae looked at Leeteuk for confirmation that it was okay and when he received a nod, he started to move, only to have Shindong stop him for a moment and whisper, “And there may or may not be a bowl of candy,” with a regretful tone he added, “I honestly can’t remember if I ate it all or not.”  He patted his stomach humorously and Donghae smiled widely before continuing on his way. 

Leeteuk extended his hand to Shindong with a bow.  “I can’t thank you enough.  I’m so sorry about being late.”   

“It’s not a problem at all.  Siwon told me a bit about your story.  I was actually really eager to get to meet with you and Donghae.” 

“Yes, well, I’m grateful you could find time in your schedule,” Leeteuk responded, not really sure how to react.  “I really wanted to get Donghae in to see someone as soon as I could.”

“Yeah, tell me what you’re concerned about with him,” Shindong prompted.

“Um, a lot of things.  I don’t know what Siwon told you but he lived on his own for just under a year.  I know he stole to survive but besides that I don’t know anything about his life before he came to live with us.  He ended up homeless because his parents died though, he told us that much.  He just won’t tell us anything else.”

“So, one of your goals is for him to open up about his past?”

“Not. . . yes, but not really,” Leeteuk explained.  “He has nightmares and sometimes he’ll just freeze up and it’s like he has no clue what’s going on and he can’t see what’s in front of him.  And I hate seeing him like that.” 

“You want him to get to a point where he feels safe enough to talk if he wants and to move past that internal fear,” Shindong said nodding, now a very sympathetic and serious person in contrast to his previous humor. 

“Exactly,” Leeteuk said, “And I’m not sure if these other things are problems, but he acts really young for his age and is really comfortable with strangers.  Like, he warms up to people much faster than I think he should.” 

Shindong was nodding steadily, like this meant something to him more than what Leeteuk understood. 

“Alright then, Park Leeteuk,” Shindong broke into action, “I’ll be able to tell you more after our session today.  Do you want to stay and observe or. . .?” 

“No, that’s alright,” Leeteuk assured himself, rather than Shindong.  He wanted to stay, but he knew it wouldn’t help. 

“Okay, if you change your mind at any point, my door is open, just come on in.” 

Leeteuk decided he liked this Shindong person, and smiled gratefully.  “I appreciate this a lot.” 

“And I appreciate people who care about kids.” 

Leeteuk and Shindong exchanged a final nod and then Leeteuk turned to wander aimlessly around, hoping that Shindong would be able to figure out how to help Donghae.

A/N  So remember that time when I used to apologize for being just a WEEK late...yeah. . . so . . . Hehee...

But hey, this chapter was 18 freaking pages. . . XD <3 

I can't thank you all enough for the support and the comments that have helped me get through this chapter.  There will probably be typos closer to the end cause I was in such a rush to get it to you.  It took SOOOOOOoOoOoooOooo long to write but I hope it ends up being worth the wait.

Anyway, I'm torturing poor SebApples again so I'm not going to write much longer. 

Just THANK YOU so much for my amazing subscribers who have stuck through this with me, for all of you amazing new subs! (welcome!) and as always.

Subs aren't just sandwiches, comments. . . you know what...there aren't any comment puns I feel brave enough to make so. . .

I LOVE YOU ALL LIKE I LOVE ALL OF MY BIASES COMBINED!!!   Okay. . . maybe not THAT much. . . cause that would be creepy. . . XD <3