It didn’t look set to be a peaceful weekend.  Minseok had to separate Jaehwan and Jaera twice again before lunch, which Semi had requested to be extra spicy (pregnancy cravings were just weird like that, as far as Minseok was concerned), and he also had to deal with Taeyong when the boy emerged just after midday.  That was without thinking about Luhan and Lay, who were still locked into the sitting room.

“Can you not ring my parents?” Taeyong requested as he sat down on a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen, interrupting Minseok as he shook curry powder into the sauce he was making.  Minseok sighed.

“You’re still a minor, Taeyong.  You can’t just go nicking your dad’s car to drive across the country because your parents have been arguing again.”

“I hate them both,” Taeyong grumbled, sullenly folding his arms.  “I don’t want to be anywhere near them when they’re like this.  It actually got physical again this time, you know?  How is my family so screwed up?  Yours should be more screwed up than mine.  You’re an ex-convict, for God’s sake.”

Minseok didn’t bother taking offence.  Taeyong’s eyes were watering a little, and from previous occasions that he’d shown up on their doorstep, Minseok knew that the boy was finding his family situation incredibly tough.

“I honestly don’t understand why they don’t just get divorced.”  Taeyong planted his forehead on the island.  “It’s been four years.  They can’t spare a civil word for each other.  Both of them have been to hospital at least once because of the other.  They both have some stupid notion that they have to stick together until I’m nineteen so there’s no problem with custody.  I’d much rather be looked after by the social services, because right now, I’m just a bargaining chip they use as leverage against each other.”

“There must be something positive you can think about for each of your parents.”

Taeyong turned his head to the side.  “Nope.”

Minseok sighed.  To say that his own father had been less than satisfactory was putting it incredibly mildly.  His mother he hadn’t known long enough.  But that had been a screwed-up family situation.  “I’m ringing your dad after lunch before you get reported as a missing person.  If you really want to stay here for a while, I guess we can tell him the police are thinking about pressing charges for a stolen car and underage driving.”

Taeyong scowled.

“And you’re doing the talking if your mum answers the phone,” Minseok warned, at which Taeyong closed his eyes and gave a weary sigh.  Taeyong’s mother had not taken at all well to finding out that the man she’d so often trusted to babysit her darling child had once been a notorious gang lord, and she had tried to ban Taeyong from speaking to him ever again.  Taeyong’s father had been more reasonable about the situation, but still would clearly have preferred it if Taeyong steered clear of Minseok.

He turned back to the curry, but at that moment, the kitchen door slammed back on its hinges and Jaehwan stormed in.

“Dad, tell Jaera to shut up,” he complained as the two-year-old chased after him, arms outstretched and crying.  “She wants to watch TV in the sitting room with Uncle Lay and I told her she can’t go in there because it’s locked and Mum just told us both to stop complaining—”

Minseok wanted to bury his head in his hands, but his fingers were covered in curry powder and he didn’t want any of it near his eyes.

“Dada!” Jaera wailed, catching sight of him.  “Jaejae meanie—”

“Okay, enough,” he said, raising his voice ever so slightly.  “Jaehwan, lay the table.  Jaera, shush.  If you both behave, Taeyong will take you out to get some sweets from the corner shop after lunch—”

“Want sweets now!” Jaera bawled, sitting down on the floor and tugging on her pigtails.  It was only with difficulty that Minseok repressed the urge to throw his hands up in the air and give up on life.

“Taeyong,” he said with resignation, “I need to get lunch done.  Can you occupy her for a bit?”

Looking less than thrilled, Taeyong nodded and went over to crouch beside Jaera, cooing at her in toddler language in an effort to get through to her.  She perked up at the mention of playing a quick game.

“That’s not fair!” Jaehwan protested as his little sister trotted out of the kitchen after Taeyong, now smiling brightly.  “How come she gets to play when I have to work?”

“Just lay the table.”

Lay and Luhan both remained cooped up in the living room while the others ate lunch, though Minseok doubted whether either of them would have been able to lift the mood.  Frazzled, Minseok shooed everybody out of the kitchen once they’d finished eating so that he could clean up alone, electing to do the dishes by hand rather than putting them in the dishwasher as it was therapeutic and he needed an excuse to escape human interaction for a bit.

To his utter relief, when he finally emerged from the kitchen, Semi had already got in contact with Taeyong’s mother (who didn’t mind holding civilised conversations with her, even though she just about blew up if she thought Minseok was even breathing down the phone to her), and some kind of agreement that Taeyong could stay and be put on a fast train back to Seoul on Sunday evening so that he would be around for school the next day had been hashed out.  Nothing was mentioned about the car, though Minseok suspected that was because Taeyong’s mother didn’t want to deal with her husband’s things.  Taeyong himself had just recently stepped out with both children to get them the promised sweets, and Semi was checking over some company finances that she hadn’t had a chance to do before the weekend.

Yixing came out of the sitting room before he could join Semi, though.

“We need to find him somewhere to stay,” he murmured, keeping his voice low as Minseok turned towards him, “and we need to find some way of getting him to a doctor before any of his injuries turn serious.”

“So what’s happening?” Minseok asked him anxiously.

Yixing groaned.  “I think he’s even more obstinate than you are.  We can’t let him go back to jail right at the moment, though.  Mighty Mouth will kill him pretty much immediately.  Not to mention that all we managed to do with keeping the death penalty off him is going to be up in the air, now, because that relied partially on him being well behaved.  But he’s also shockingly up to date with rumours from the underworld, and he’s desperate.  If he goes back before he sees his sister, he’s going to sell you out.  He’s basically using you as a hostage.”

Minseok cast an anxious glance down the passage towards Semi’s study.

“He says he doesn’t want to, but he will if he’s pushed.”

“Yeah, he will,” Minseok agreed quietly.  “He’s not one to make threats lightly.”

Yixing looked irritated.  “I’m not going to let him do that.  You’re far too valuable to use, and protecting you all would be a huge hassle.  It would also cause severe disruption to your family, and Semi’s pregnant.  She doesn’t need that kind of stress.”

Minseok gave a soft snort.  “And here I thought it would be because you care about us or something.”

“That too, I guess,” Yixing admitted.  “So Luhan’s dangling a carrot along with a stick.  He’s given me about fifty tip-offs for a lot of stuff going on or about to happen in Seoul, and nationwide with drug cartels, and I kind of wish I’d brought a recorder with me.  It’s really frustrating, though, because there’s no way I can give all the tips to national defence or to the Seoul police department at the same time without it being highly suspicious.  And since Luhan’s been seen in this area, I’d be very surprised if Seoul police didn’t send somebody knocking on your door to search for him.  This is the most logical place to look first.”

“Then where are we going to put him?”

Yixing shrugged helplessly.  “I don’t know.  He’s insisting he wants to stay here.  Jongdae or I could probably offer our flats as well, but they’re much more central and much, much smaller.  At least here he can potter around in the garden when it’s dark.  If he stayed with one of us, we have the problem of transport, first of all, and that he might be seen, but he’ll be cooped up in a small space for who knows how long which will probably send him mad, and I think the only person he even vaguely trusts right now is you.  He’d probably be in danger of doing something spectacularly stupid.”

“Luhan’s careful.”

“I still wouldn’t trust him alone in my home unless I left him there in a straightjacket.”

In spite of himself, Minseok laughed.

“Anyway.”  Yixing patted him on the shoulder.  “He’s gone back to sleep for now.  I’ll discuss it with Jongdae this afternoon and I’m going to get hold of Kyungsoo to see if he can find some way of monitoring the situation in Seoul for us and locking down your records.  Or possibly even finding Weiyi, though that would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.  I’ll be back tomorrow.”  He was halfway down the corridor before he turned back.  “Oh, and did I hear Taeyong’s voice earlier?”

Minseok nodded wearily.

“I’ll process that personally.  He won’t get in any trouble from us, don’t worry.”

“So shifty.”

Yixing just grinned at him before vanishing out of the front door.

It was Sunday night when Weiyi woke up.  The first thing she realised was that her back was too comfortable for her to be lying on the concrete she’d collapsed on, and the second was that it was quiet.  Almost too quiet.  And the place smelt… clean.

She was indoors, that much was for certain.  The only sounds around her consisted of snores, some kind of machine bleeping every so often, and the quiet murmuring of female voices in a language she didn’t understand.

That was sort of good, though.  That meant Sangchu’s people hadn’t caught her.  And if she was comfortable, then hopefully that als