Taeyong feels empty.

It’s scary, when someone unexpectedly reads through you, sees through you. And it’s even more so, when it’s someone you wish to protect, hide, keep safe— especially from yourself.

Taeyong doesn’t understand how Mark could possibly have done that; everyone else seems to have accepted the short form of the events that transpired since… since that night except for Jaehyun and Mark. And it,, honest to god, terrifies Taeyong.

So, when he steps out of that room, his hands are shaking, breath’s shuddering; he doesn’t even look up, as he brushes past Donghyuck, who’s left staring at his back with a strange look in his eyes. He might hate Taeyong some more, then, since he’s probably upset Mark. But Taeyong can’t find it in him to care, right now, mind entirely preoccupied with thoughts of get away, get away loping around in circles, a constant chant he can’t seem to get rid of.

It’s like this that Taeil finds him, huddled up in bed. Taeyong isn’t sure how long he’s been there with everything, including the feel of his soft pillow against his cheek, on his mind. It’s peaceful, yes, but in a strangely stifling way that has Taeyong gasping for breath. His cheeks start to grow moist and, oh, he’s crying but strangely enough, can’t feel anything, mind filled with static.

“Whoa, whoa, look at me.” Taeil’s warm hands come to wrap around his shoulders, and Taeyong can’t help his instinctive flinch, wheezing for breath, “Taeyong! Taeyong, calm down, everything’s fine—”

“It’s… it’s not!” Taeyong manages to gasp out, words forced from his lips as his breath stutters out of his lungs, “K-keep mess…messing th-things u-up—”

He struggles to get more air into him, and it feels like his ribs are rattling against his chest, mind spinning dizzyingly and he can’t get his bearings, everything’s so out of control.

“You’re safe, you’re safe.” Taeil doesn’t touch him again, for which Taeyong is immensely grateful, “It’s just me Taeyong, you’re safe.”

It’s like someone’s dunked his head underwater, and he can’t hear anything safe for the slow, steady puffs of air from his lungs; his last few breaths, before his chest fills with water. And it hurts, he’s not safe, Taeil’s lying, and everyone hates him—

“G-Go away.” He chokes out, doesn’t want Taeil to see this, tears still dribbling down his cheeks, his chest hurts, “S-Stay away!”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Taeil’s warm hand encompasses Taeyong’s own, and his gentle voice murmurs to him, “I’m staying right here with you, see? You’re completely safe, Tae, it’s just the two of us here. I’m thinking we should clean up, though, the sheets are a mess, aren’t they?”

Are they? Taeyong can’t see very well, thanks to his blurred sight, but he… he trusts Taeil, right? He trusts Taeil, but no, no nononono what if Taeil doesn’t like him anymore, what if he—

“I need you to breathe with me first.” Taeil’s always had the patience of a saint, and he’s carefully resting his hands on Taeyong’s shoulder—just a comforting touch, nothing more, “Put your hand here, see? Try to match my breathing, it’ll feel better. Taeyong, breathe.”

He tries, because he really trusts Taeil; Taeil wouldn’t hurt him, all gentle touches and warm smiles, Taeil cares, he wants Taeyong to just breathe, breathe; he can do that.

Taeyong gasps in a lungful of air, free hand coming to rub at his cheeks, as he tries to match the slow rise and fall of Taeil’s chest. His lungs feel like they’re burning, but the cold rush of air into them makes him feel unbelievably better. His head spins, but it’s an improvement; this is just in relief, he’s breathing, he can breathe, it’s okay.

“I’m s-sorry you had to see that, hyung.” He apologizes, albeit needlessly since Taeil waves it off. Ah, well, Taeil has always been one of the more forgiving members.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks eventually, when Taeyong regains enough of his wits about him, “D’you... d’you remember?”

“I don’t have amnesia, hyung.” Taeyong doesn’t mean for it to come out so rudely, it just happens; but when Taeil stiffens, he regrets it, biting his lip.

“Hyung,” He says anxiously, desperate to fix it, “I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you!”

“It’s alright.” Is all Taeil offers quietly. It makes Taeyong feel all the more guilty, but he probably deserves that anyway.

“It’s just…” Something in Taeyong prompts him to speak; the words slip off his tongue quick as sand, but just as rough, “I’m… I’m at a loss as to what to do. I mean, I’m the leader but, right now, it feels like… like I can’t do anything about what’s happening.”

“What do you mean by that?” Taeil raises his eyebrow, soft and caring and nothing Taeyong deserves, “What do you think you’re supposed to be doing?”

“I don’t know.” Taeyong’s shoulders hunch in, a bitter chuckle leaving his throat, “Something. Anything. Certainly not nothing.”

Taeil stares at him for one harrowing moment, eyes almost seeing through him, alight with something akin to sadness, but that’s probably just Taeyong’s imagination running wild. Then again, he must seem pretty pitiable.

“Do you think,” The older brunette speaks slowly, as if testing the waters, “That everything is yours to take on?”

That takes Taeyong off guard, and he stares at Taeil quite openly, until the man raises an eyebrow; cheeks flushing, he looks away, abashed.

“I…” He pauses, thinking. He wants to say yes, since he’s the leader and, isn’t that what leaders are supposed to do? He’s seen other leaders, admirable and charismatic, or comforting and homely—and he’s always aspired to be like that. He’s never agreed with management’s decision to appoint him—Taeyong, who doesn’t know how to do anything, who has no skills—but he’s in the role now anyway.

And, honestly, this is the least he could do. As a leader, he’s not supposed to make mistakes; he’s not supposed to let things slip out of his grasp, isn’t supposed to neglect s. Yet, he’s done that anyway. It’s only fair that Taeyong fixes his messes, right?

“Have you figured out your answer?” Taeil prompts good-naturedly. Taeyong thinks, in the corner of his mind, that Taeil would’ve made an outstanding leader. Not because he’s the oldest, but because he’s the most patient of them all, the kindest, most gentle member who can also be strict when he needs to be. He’s someone Taeyong’s always found himself going to for advice, to saddle him with his problems.

“I would… normally say no.” Taeyong lies, because no, he’d never want them to take on any more work, “But this time… this time, hyung, I can’t expect everyone to deal with it. It’s a… it’s a demon I’ve created, so it’s best for m-me to deal with it, right?”

“I never talked about anything happening right now.” The older man points out, and Taeyong winces because busted; he really feels like a kid again, “But alright, why’s it something you need to do by yourself?”

“You sound awfully like a therapist.” Taeyong tries to joke, to lighten the mood.

“Maybe.” Taeil agrees cheerfully, “But I like to think I’m helping my family out, you know?”

The words strike Taeyong hard, and he bites his lip. Family? Could he even really consider Taeyong, who’s such a screw-up, such an impossible person, to be family?

“Family?” The word comes out smaller than he wishes for it to, and he shakes his head, “I can’t… you can’t possibly expect—”

“Taeyong.” Taeil sighs, finally; has he reached the limit of his patience? Taeil, who has no limits to his compassion? Taeyong’s done it again, “Youare family. Everyone here is a part of my family. You guys are people I love being around; people who, I feel, can lend me support and stability whenever I need it.”

“I’m probably the least stable person right now.” Taeyong admits, voice cracking embarrassedly at the thought of being someone so important—it seems impossible, “I think you’d be better off without me, honestly—”

“Don’t say that!” Taeyong’s hands are snatched up by Taeil’s slightly smaller ones, and his hyung glares at him with the heat of a thousand suns, “Look, I might not talk much, but I love listening to all of you guys. When you come to me for advice or just to hang out, it makes me… it makes me really, really happy.”

He frowns, then, and Taeyong is struck with an irrational fear, because that expression can’t be good, but it’s Taeil.

“And you haven’t been doing that, lately.” Taeil finally exhales heavily, “Now, every time I check, you say you’ve got everything under control; but honestly, you’re taking on more responsibility than you need to.”

“It’s my job.” Taeyong insists, mouth dry, “It’s my… I’m supposed to—”

“Guide us.” Taeil interrupts, unmoving, “You’re supposed to be our pillar, I agree. But you’re not supposed to be our mule. You don’t need to pick up after us, solve our problems… these are things we should be doing ourselves.”

Taeyong doesn’t know what to say to this, thrown out of his depth. Taeil’s eyes blaze for a moment longer, before they soften and he sighs.

“You need to figure it out for yourself.” Taeil’s eyes lock on Taeyong’s, “You know, what you’re supposed to do as a leader, and everything. But you need to take a break first. If not for yourself, then for… for us?”

“I… Taeil, I can’t.” Taeyong’s chest aches, phantom pangs shooting through it, as he looks desperately at the man he sees like an older brother, “If I stop now… everything will be off balance and out of control and—”

“Alright.” Taeil cuts him off, which makes the dread pooling in Taeyong’s gut twice as heavy—Taeil never interrupts, “I just want you to think about it, okay?”

Even though his tone is just soft, worried even, Taeyong can’t help but hate himself for being such a burden. So much of a problem that Taeil finds it necessary to come seek him out to talk.

“Right.” He says shortly, instead of complaining and being more cumbersome.

“Oh yeah,” Taeil remembers, eyes flying wide as he gets off the bed, “I wanted to call you because Mark and Donghyuck were leaving!”

Taeyong stiffens at the mention of Mark, before forcing himself to relax. He doesn’t need Taeil to get any more suspicious about things. He appreciates the older man’s concern, but Taeyong just… just wants to feel competent, for a change.

“Alright, I’m coming.” He makes to stand up, only to gasp in surprise when Taeil actually pushes him back onto the bed, “Whoa, hyung!”

“They must’ve left by now.” Taeil answers, though he bites his lip in guilt, “Sorry if I pushed too hard. I just want you to take some rest.”

“It’s fine.” Taeyong says—doesn’t mention how he probably deserves the hurt anyway—and exhales shakily, “I might as well come out anyway though, right?”

“I literally just said to rest.” Taeil says pointedly, only to visibly startle when the door swings open, Yuta’s head poking in, “Gosh, you scared me!”

“Sorry hyung!” Yuta says cheerfully, before his smile dims at the sight of Taeyong—oh no, not him too—and he adds, softer, “We were going to leave now: you coming?”

“Leave?” Taeyong feels totally off balance, now, as he eyes the two of them, “Leave to… where, exactly?”

“Uh, we were going to meet our manager so that we could discuss our next few steps.” Yuta exchanges a weird look with Taeil—Taeyong has never felt more disconnected—as he says this, “I mean, we figured it’d be unfair to pile everything onto you.”

“Oh.” Taeyong’s voice sounds distant, even to himself, “Alright. Thanks.”

They don’t even think he’s capable of doing that much? It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. He waves them away with a fake smile, even as they exchange hesitant glances and tell him Jaehyun’s going to stay with him. So, he needs a minder too? Fine. If that makes them feel better—if it relieves them of some of the burden—Taeyong will do it.

Jaehyun walks in, then, blonde hair tousled and shirt stretched unfairly over his shoulders. Taeyong wants to focus on that, the happy things, but the thoughts in his mind are too overbearing, pushing their way to the forefront. His fingers shake, as he struggles to bite back the words in his throat; they still tremble, as Jaehyun takes Taeyong’s hand in his own.

It’s entirely silent for a moment, before Taeyong speaks.

“I think I had a panic attack.”

The words come out more monotonously than he means for them to, but it’s too late to take them back. Jaehyun’s hand tightens marginally around his in surprise, maybe, before it relaxes, and is rubbing soothing circles into Taeyong’s palm.

“Did you talk to anyone about it?” Jaehyun takes it in stride to the best extent possible and, if anything, it makes Taeyong love him all the more. Makes him feel even more unworthy of him.

“Taeil hyung was there.” Taeyong acknowledges, before the question that he’s tried so hard to quell arises, “Jaehyun, I… how do I fix everything?”

“What do you mean?” The blonde looks at him quizzically, and it seems so easy to just face-plant into his chest and forget about the world. Taeyong has to hold himself back from doing just that, since he knows it’s his job to do this, he can’t keep slacking off.

“This entire mess with Mark started because of me.” He gives his surprised boyfriend a wry smile, even though it feels wrong on his lips, “Because I didn’t listen to you that night when you said to leave it for another day.”

“Hey…” Jaehyun looks considerably unsure, biting his lip, but he knows he can’t refute that, just like Taeyong does.

“If I’d waited, maybe things wouldn’t have escalated to this point.” He confesses, ducking his head as though it might stop the sting of tears, “Maybe Mark wouldn’t have gotten hurt this much. I don’t know… I ju-just regret everything so much Jaehyun, you have no idea.”

“I think I have a fair idea.” Jaehyun interrupts, voice deceivingly soft, “Even though you’ve avoided the hell out of me, I’ve never lost sight of you, hyung.”

Taeyong’s breath catches, and he manages to choke out a watery sob, fist curling against Jaehyun’s chest.

“Why do you always say things like that?” He sniffles out, “I don’t deserve you.”

“It’s an acquired skill.” Jaehyun acknowledges with a cheesy grin, before it settles into something more grim, serious, “And don’t ever say that, hyung; you and I… we’re meant to be.”

Something soft in his eyes, he leans forward, brushing his lips against Taeyong’s hair with a soft sigh.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Jaehyun confesses, and Taeyong wants to snort, laugh, because there’s no way, no way, that Jaehyun needs him, not the way Taeyong does, “I don’t know who I’d be without you.”

And this stops Taeyong in his tracks; something swells up in him, a dense bubble of emotion that chokes his throat and makes him press a gentle hand to the younger male’s jaw.

“Don’t say things you’ll regret.” He manages to say, eyes downcast.

Jaehyun’s hand curls around his, grip warm and strong. Unflinching, like the steel in his eyes.

“I won’t.” He vows, and everything is perfect. Everything is perfect, till the door opens with a deafening slam, startling the both of them into nearly falling off the bed.

“Hyung!” It’s Donghyuck at the door, flushed and panting, and Taeyong’s heart instantly spikes in worry; if Donghyuck’s here, looking so terrified, then where’s Mark?

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks instantly, getting off the bed. Taeyong rushes to do the same, nearly crumpling back onto the bed with how suddenly he moves, but shrugs it off quickly enough to focus on the more pressing issue.

“The Lowlife,” Taeyong sees Donghyuck’s mouth curl in distaste, “Is in front of our rooms, and Mark, the idiot, decided he’d go and talk to him on his own!”

It takes a couple of moments to actually decipher the sentence but once it sinks in, Taeyong and Jaehyun meet each other’s eyes.

Together? Jaehyun’s clearly read, and while Taeyong wants nothing more but to refute it, saying it’s his fight and not Jaehyun’s, he knows it’ll just tip them off into another argument. And Taeyong… Taeyong’s tired of the conflict. He’s tired of the confrontations. He just wants everything to end… so he nods.

“Can you walk back with us, or do you need time?” He asks, needing to feel in control again.

Donghyuck doesn’t answer for a pregnant pause, making Taeyong’s palms sweat uncomfortably, before he finally speaks.

“I’m coming with you guys.” He says firmly, tone brokering no argument. Taeyong doesn’t plan to even try, though, and nods.

“Let’s hurry.” Jaehyun says, eyes shining with anxiety as Taeyong remembers himself and quickly walks to the living room to grab the keys and his cell phone, “I can’t believe Mark, seriously.”

“He had no choice!” Donghyuck insists as he follows them outside, Jaehyun locking the door, “What would you have him do?”

“Guys, we need to be quick.” Taeyong reminds them, “As in, we need to run.”

“What?” Donghyuck gapes dramatically, eyes impossibly wide, “Again?”

His shoulders slump then, before he nods resignedly. Taeyong meets Jaehyun’s eyes, giving him a silent watch him, just in case Donghyuck gets tired quickly. Considering the boy’s probably run all the way here already, it’s forgivable. Taeyong himself isn’t very athletic, and has terrible stamina, but he’s got to get to Mark and—

He shakes his head, before springing off his toes and sprinting through the empty corridor. He hears Donghyuck’s loud exclamation of shock, and Jaehyun’s soft reassurance before the two of them take off after him; but, the rest of it is lost over the strong ropes of wind whipping through his hair, flicking past his freezing ears.

Mark’s doing something entirely stupid but also… also really admirable. Taeyong shivers just by thinking of speaking to Kim Yeongsu again, and then there’s Mark who’s… who’s suffered so much because of the man, who’s been pushed around like a rag doll. Mark’s not afraid. Or maybe he is, but he’s taking a huge leap forward; and it’s better than Taeyong could ever hope to do. More than he’s ever done.

Taeyong’s… proud of him. And maybe he doesn’t deserve to think like that, but the small rush of affection is hard to contain, keep to himself.

He comes to a halt in front of the Dream dorms, hunched over and gasping for breath; it serves to stop the two standing in front of the door, making them turn surprised eyes at Taeyong.

Mark’s eyes are wide, cheeks pale, as he stares at the older rapper, clenched fists loosening the tiniest fraction, making Taeyong’s breath escape easy.

“Hyung.” He mutters in undisguised shock… as though he’s surprised Taeyong’s here at all.

“I meant to come say bye to you!” Taeyong blurts out, steadily ignoring the other presence in the corner of his vision, “I didn’t realize it was too late by the time you guys left.”

He doesn’t talk about the panic attack. Mark doesn’t need any added pressure.

“Well,” He stiffens when Yeongsu finally speaks up, with an amused curl to his mouth, “The two of you finally in the same place, hm?”

“Why’re you here?” Taeyong cuts to the chase, refusing to think about anything, especially not the way the man’s fingers—that slid through his hair—twitch absently.

Yeongsu’s eyes abruptly narrow into slits, instinctively making Taeyong flinch back, before he realizes and, inwardly berating himself, straightens. Then, as sudden as it’s come, it evaporates, a tiny twitch of the lips taking its place instead.

Mark inhales sharply from behind him, and Taeyong startles lightly when cool, slender fingers wrap around his wrist, grounding and calming.

Yeongsu notices it too, evidently, from the way his eyebrow quirks mockingly.

“Little kids holding hands again?” He snorts derisively, before his eyes turn to steel, “Well, nothing distracts us away from the truth, does it now?”

“You heard Hyung.” Mark says thinly, a foreign undercurrent of anger impossible to ignore. It’s jarring, because he’s never heard that from his sweet, docile dongsaeng. But Taeyong tries not to focus on that, instead backing them up by repeating his question, holding back the waver in the words.

“Why are you here?"