The first thing Baekhyun feels when he wakes up is the cold leather binding his arms and legs to the bed. It is as if ice has slowly crawled up his body, shaking him awake instantly. He is nothing but groggy while he looks around the room to take in his surroundings, leaving him under the impression that he is once again, trapped.

The realization makes his joints flinch more and more by the second, moving his limbs aimlessly in a plea to be stripped away from these chains. “What's happening? Why am I here!?” He begins to thrash violently in place, the ropes painfully burning his wrists. Men in white clothing suddenly enter, giving him more of a reason to behave irrationally. They remind him of those doctors who tried to find out what was wrong with him, when there was nothing wrong, when he was just being himself.

“Baekhyun stop this right now!” That voice... it is a voice he surly knows, but doesn't want to admit to having been accustumed to it. Should he be surprised, though? For this man has been nothing but a shadow, Martha's shadow. 

He turns his head to cast his eyes upon Seung Ho, but unlike all the barren faces he has thrown to him in the past, this expression is that of a alarming glare. “You...You! Get out! Get the out!” To have the man who was supposed to be his father shout at him inflames his system. He will not stand for it, even if his stance happened to be strapped on a bed like an animal.

Seung Ho is shocked at Baekhyun's outburst, his eyes widening and lips gapping. Is this truly his son? But who is he to think about this, for he has never been a father figure to even know how his son truly acts. Blinded by what he wants to see, he has no ability to see behind fake faces, to see the truth.

“How can you shout at me like this?” Seung Ho's voice is not angry, no, his voice is desperate. Desperate to reach out and understand him, to finally see what his son has in that mind of his, in that small damaged soul. But Baekhyun cannot disagree more, for his chance has passed long ago, and now it is too late. 

Eyes full of loathe and hostility, Baekhyun speaks once more, but this time with a pause in between each word. “Get. Out. Now!” The men usher Seung Ho's slacked body out of the room, leaving Baekhyun to squirm against the bed. Turning his head to one of the men, he says, “Why am I here? I've done nothing wrong!”

Before any more words can be exchanged between the two, Baekhyun suddenly feels something sharp hit his arm. He looks over to the source, however the world begins to scatter into peices and all he see's is a black flash. Then the world is no more. 

____________________

“We have no proof that what your saying is true, therefore you can not leave.” Baekhyun can not believe his ears; are these people serious? 

“It was self-defense! How can you just lock me up in a mental hospital? It's wrong! I don't belong here!” He retorts back to the woman standing in front of him, his eyes sending daggers into the hearts of the others behind her. They stand gaurd just in case something where to happen to the head mistress, they make it seem as if he is a serial killer waiting to strike.

They deny him over and over again, no matter how many times he tries to explain himself. And he is left to stare at four blank walls, all hovering over him as he sits with his knees pulled into his chest. Even if this is what he is forced to cope with right now, he does not regret his actions at all, not any part of it. He has finally excaped the wrath of the soul wretcher, the monsters grasp, the devils trident, he has dug a whole out of it, for once and for all. And regretting it is something he does not plan on doing, ever.

Hours pass by as he lays his head on the corner of the wall, just staring into nothingness. They eventually release him of his cage and into the world of other misfits for lunch, or some air as they call it. They order everyone to stand into a straight line so they can all head down to the cafiteria. Baekhyun must admit that this doesn't surprise him; he already fell from one obstacale, and so having another reign upon his shoulders isn't as shocking. How can he be surprised, really?

Though what really does come to him as a shock is the person he bumps into while surfacing the grey walls of the institution. His hair is still brown, though not as volumous as it used to be. In fact, it seems as dead as Martha had looked after he had shot her. His eyes are red with fatigue and his face has become much more skinner, along with his too-slim figure. This man is almost imperceptible to him, but this face is a face he knows he will never forget, even if it has undergone such an extreme change. 

“Jongdae, is... is that really you?” He speaks to him  in a hushed voice, unwanting of anyone else to intervene with their coversation. The other man stares at Baekhyun in puzzlement, as if he cannot recognize him at all. It frightens Baekhyun for a moment, that Jongdae could have actually forgotten about him in their time lapse, but after a few minutes of merely eyeing one another, they are in each others embraces the next minute. 

“Baekhyun! Oh, it's you! I've missed you so much!” This skinship from him is beyond surprisng, though having him close is so reassuring that he doesn't bother to take it into account. 

The look in Jongdae's eyes is horribly distressed, giving Baekhyun a reason to question him. “What are you doing here Jongdae? What happened? Did they wrong you too?”

He pulls his hand through his lifeless locks as he speaks, “It's terrible Baekhyun, my father... he came back and put me in here for no reason. These fools won't let me leave, but Chanyeol is sick, and I have to go to, I have to help him.” Oh no, Chanyeol is sick? This makes a bomb errupt inside of his chest, one that must have been ticki