The phone rang and rang and rang, but Himchan didn't seem to hear it. He had not left his room since yesterday. His glossy eyes took in nothing, they opened and shut, while he sat stiff and still as a corpse.

Where was Zelo? Where was his little brother? Why was this happening? What had he done wrong?

Something stung inside his chest, the feeling swelling into an anxious ache. He needed to move or he was going to have his second panic attack this week and he was tired of feeling so weak and useless.

Himchan pulled his tired body upwards, feeling the nervous off kilter rhythm of his breathing scraping his throat. Oxygen felt painful and tasted bitterly of iron. The phone rang again, and he trudged off to answer it.

The noise seemed to agitate him further. Each shrill of the ring drove through his skull like an ice pick and he found himself glaring at the small thing perched harmlessly on the counter. Enough. He ripped the cord from the wall and knocked the phone to the floor.

It clattered across the tiles, denting and cracking as it slammed into the baseboard of the wall. The plaster chipped in a small white cloud drifting noxiously and peacefully towards the ceiling.

Pressing a palm into his aching, stinging eye he turned to leave his apartment. He needed some air.

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The chilling air bit into his arms and legs as he walked deeper into the crumbling ruins of the city. He didn't know what had caused it to deteriorate. Something from deep inside had begun to rot, to fester and crumble until all that remained was a dying tangle of twisted minds who waited for the end in silent resignation.

He had begun to feel that his small family was like that as well.

He had realized it early on when their mother had died. He had watched his daddy become an animal and that had broken him more than anything else except maybe the chaotic spiral his little brother had entered in the last few years.

The few weeks of improvement had brightened his outlook on life. For a beautiful few days, the city had seemed cleaner and less decrepit. People had seemed kinder and the smog had seemed a little less toxic, sweet even.

Before long, he realized that he had no real idea where he was. He had managed to wander much deeper into the city than he usually would allow himself, especially after dark. It wasn't as if he couldn't protect herself... He just considered it unwise to tempt fate.

As he scanned the dirty streets to determine his current location, he realized that he had wandered into his old neighborhood. This was where the nightmare began.

He saw the House of Horrors where he had been raised, and razed into the dirt by a man so much larger and older than him, where he had protected two innocent children and learned just how cruel life really is. Despite the memories of blood and bruises, of broken bones and screams, he felt pulled to the building as if it held some treasure or relic that could restore everything crumbling around him.

In a few strides, he cleared the street and stood just outside the door. The dim, unpleasant light made a dingy halo around his chaotic and tangled hair. When Himchan opened the door, a cloud of moths departed silently, swirling past him with soft, powdery wings. He watched them for a precious few seconds until finally, he entered the building.

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Zelo couldn't tell how much blood he had lost, but he knew that the voices had gone very, very quiet, very still. They sat and stared at him with hollow, expectant eyes.

All of them seemed to be dissipating. Their substance had grown almost effervescent and it misted at the edges like a dying fog.

"You know," he began, his dry lips as he watched the dying trickle of blood come oozing out of his wrists. "When I'm dead, you'll be dead too." Somehow, that idea made him sad. He would be killing something that had no choice but to be a part of him.

Maybe they viewed him as he viewed them, and he was a strange and undeniable part of a never-ending chain of hallucinations, each more miserable than the last. Nonetheless, the deed needed to be done.

He was tired of being here in a world that was far too cruel for him. It was far too much for someone who was not enough. He thought of Daehyun, and he jerked against the pain that welled up in his chest. To stifle it, he gave himself another very deep slash to his wrist. This was taking too long. Maybe if he slit his throat?

He moved the knife up to his neck, fully intending to sever his windpipe and choke on the bloody knife, bleed out every crushed hope, every secret, filthy wish that had ever plagued him in this dark and unwanted existence.

He looked at the doorway, and was surprised, rather horrified to see his eldest brother standing in the doorway, his cheeks red from the cold streets and his eyes wide at the spectacle in front of him.

"Zelo?" she stepped forward, almost imperceptibly. Almost. He needed to finish this now, or it wouldn't happen and he would be forced to endure the rest of eternity with these ghastly, speaking shadows that would follow him forever, to torment him and tempt him and make sure that everything went wrong.

"Stay there." he said, trying to force a coldness into his voice that wasn't there. "Nothing you say or do changes anything." His hands were shaking. He had cut a muscle, and it had become very difficult to control his hands.

Himchan put up one hand very slowly. Zelo watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall as he fought the urge to race over to him in fear that he would really slash his throat.

"Zelo," his voice shaking, just slightly as he reached for him. Warmth seemed to emanate from his fingers, the chipped black polish cutting off the tips as she tried to reason with him.

He took another step, and the voices sprung to life. Yongguk swaggered off behind Himchan, leering at Zelo from behind heim and setting its chin into his shoulder. "Please, put the knife down." His conscience found its way to his side, one sticky, black hand wrapping wretched, filthy fingers around his and playing with the handle of the knife. The other pointed ramrod straight towards his brother, hand clawed and twitching.

"I don't want to lose you…" Himchan tried to smile at him, but it fell halfway through and a tear fell heavily from his beautiful eyes, clinging obstinately to his dark lashes. "We can't lose you…" Blue tipped fingers covered his mouth and some other voice behind Zelo began to dig its long sharp fingers into his ears. The words became garbled and distant like white noise.

Anxiety rocked his body in an icy shudder. This wasn't supposed to happen. His death was meant to be quick, painful or not, and alone. He could still end it… he could still be done, but… but, Himchan? Himchan would have to carry this image forever and this instant would never leave him.

Make your choice make the choice is it over or not? Are you too weak to punish us? Are you too weak to set your flesh and blood free? If you love them let them go on without you…

"I can't do this anymore." He whispered, but his own words felt thick and he couldn't hear past the holes or the rising screams behind his eyes. Everything hurt.

"Please, please, put the knife down. Please, please…" Himchan's legs were shaking and much to Zelo's horror he was crying now. Sobs wracked his shoulders, but he obediently stayed put.

3, 2, 1, cut off your breathing

The knife began to push through his thin neck and he closed his eyes, forcing his hand down. The sound that hit his ears was revolting at best. The ripping sound and the unnatural sensation of some foreign object touching the inside of his throat caught him by surprise, slowed him down.

He was picking up his resolve to continue when he felt strong hands on his shoulder, pulling him forward. The knife began to leave his neck, pull out of the soft niche of skin he had dug it into.

"No." Himchan pressed his hand to the gaping hole. "I c-can't let you." His breathing was so ragged, Zelo was worried that something was wrong with him. Himchan hurled the knife against the wall and it fell with an uneven, almost mocking clatter against the dirty floor.

"Please, just let me go."

He did not answer, he simply pulled Zelo into his lap and stood carefully. He was so light, it was like holding a moth. His breathing was beginning to jerk, and his eyelids fluttered closed. Clasping his hands together, he pressed his lips to his younger brothers cheek, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Please."

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"Is that it?" asked Kai, glaring up at Daehyun from his place on the floor. His eyes were filled with anger and maybe even a secret pleasure. He spat a mouthful of blood on the floor, and laughed. "Pathetic."

Daehyun aimed a swift kick at his ribs. "You'd better shut up." He had only just managed to get himself back under control. But his grip was frail.

"Oh, come on. Surely you want to keep going? Or do you agree with me? About that psycho brother of yours?" Daehyun turned and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Shut the up, you little- Ugh. God." He ran a hand through his tousled hair, looking towards the kitchen where Sulyeon was still dialing the phone number he had given her. Her hands were shaking and she stared blankly at the wall as she was once again met with the uncaring dial tone.

He was surprised when he turned and saw Kai standing up. The boy leaned precariously forward, clutching his ribs as if he were about to fall apart. "What are you doing?" Kai lurched forward slightly, but he didn't answer.

Daehyun grabbed him and tossed him back into the floor. "Do you think I'm going to let you walk out of here?" Kai shrugged.

"I suppose, unless of course you break my legs. Then I'd have to crawl" He laughed, an ugly little laugh.

"God, what's wrong with you?" Daehyun grimaced with distaste. This kid was a basket case.

"I like to break things into pieces." He flicked open his knife again, scratching lightly along his arm and reopening a few scars.

He smiled.

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Zelo woke up in the hospital, the one place he didn't want to be. He couldn't move very well and he had that horrible feeling that followed sleep.

That feeling of having lost something or broken something. The dizzying chant of "Who am I? Where am I? Who am I? Where am I?"

Who, where, who, where, who, where, who, where, who

The only real thing he was sure of was that it was unusually quiet in his head. He hadn't had this peace of mind since his days in the Seoul psych ward.

With an irritating amount of difficulty, he turned his head and examined the chairs against the wall. He saw Himchan, fast asleep with his head resting lightly against the white wall. There were dark stains on his clothes and he could see flakes of dried blood still stuck to the spaces between his fingers and on his arms.

With a grimace of pain, he sat up, feeling stitches pulling tight in his abdomen and shoulders. His wrists were sore, too, but he needed to get up. He didn't really want to leave or run away. He just wanted to get up and move. He needed to think.

Once he had maneuvered himself into a sitting position, he began to work the IV needle out of his hand, careful not to cause an issue. There was a vase of wilting dark flowers and he carefully placed the limp cord into it, wondering if the medicine they were filling him with would help perk up the dying foxgloves.

He carefully stood up and tiptoed over to Himchan, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Himchan turned his head a little and sighed which created a strange ache in Zelo's chest. He continued out the door.

Once in the hallway, he began to wander, thinking about everything that had happened over the last few days. He wondered if Daehyun were upset with him, who had taken his medicine in the first place, why this had happened, whether either of his siblings could ever forgive him. He wondered if he could actually survive in this world. If he could cope now. If maybe, the silence settled into the synapses of his brain would meld into the cracks and fissures and stay there.

Before he knew it he had found his way down into the lobby. He hadn't meant to come this way, but… it was empty. The doors were both closed, reflecting the black night and the temptation of freedom.

Should he take advantage of this and leave? He could finish the job. Be done.

Just as he thought he might, the desire to live bloomed just under the surface of his skin, filling him with warmth. He thought of his sleeping hyung, so beautiful in spite of every late night and sickeningly early morning he inflicted upon himself and Daehyun sitting in his workshop with wood shavings all over his paint smudged fingers. He thought of Sulyeon singing to him on their walks home from school and the over the top hammy flirtation that Serenity inflicted on everybody who walked by her and the look of horror on Rayne's face. He thought of that kindly teenage girl who had sat with him at the bus stop.

Just as he had made up his mind that he was going to return to his room and maybe fall asleep, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked quickly around and saw his brother looking at him intently. Zelo couldn't say anything. His tongue felt heavy and dry and a lump had quite stubbornly planted itself in his throat.

Daehyun pulled him close, enveloping him in a hug. Zelo tangled his fingers in the back of his brother's shirt and felt the tears beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

"'S okay." His brother whispered it into his hair. "You're safe."

It felt as if everything that had been broken was fixed. Everything was right again. Daehyun took his little brother back to bed, cracking jokes and making plans the whole way. When Zelo finally crawled back in bed and fell asleep, he felt safe and warm from the inside out.