A/N: This is set at the time when Bigbang were just restarting their group activity after the 2011 scandals. I don't know what to tell you. Probably shouldn't write about this, but, well, I already have.

Also, tw// mention of death and suicide, although it's not real, but I thought I would say it.

- - - 

november 2011

He’d never thought things would ever get that awkward between them; it wasn’t that something had changed, per se, they were still the same, the people they were before all that happened (or, at least, that was what he kept telling himself, and it wasn’t the truth). But they acted exactly how they once used to, because maybe pretending that nothing had happened at all was better than talking about it.

There were things they ignored and things that were always left unsaid; he had lost count of how many times he’d found himself almost telling Daesung how much he’d missed him while he’d been gone, how many times he’d found himself almost asking him if he was alright, if he wanted to talk to him, and had always kept his mouth shut, without knowing what to say.

Unable to find words to say, he’d started to act and no one had questioned anything, since he was known for acting without a reason: every time he spotted his dongsaeng looking even remotely gloomy, silent and distant from them, he would just run to him and keep annoying him until he finally smiled; it wasn’t a lot, but it was the best he could do.
 
He hated when he couldn’t do anything, or worse, when they wouldn’t let him do anything.

There had been one particular evening when they’d all finished eating and were chatting at the table; he’d had noticed that Daesung was keeping his eyes low, moving around the remains of his food absentmindedly, obviously completely lost somewhere in his mind, and he’d always known how dangerous it was to get lost into your own head.

Just as he’d tried to reach for him on the other side of the table, he’d suddenly gotten up and had quickly walked out of the room; naturally, he’d tried to follow him to check up on him, but Jiyong had been faster, running after him. He’d stared at him as he disappeared down the hallway a moment longer than he should’ve had and that had given time to Youngbae to stop him, telling him that it was better to let Daesung breathe, and sending too many people to try and talk to him wasn’t a good idea.

Again, he’d been right, but that hadn’t stopped Seunghyun from waiting impatiently for his two bandmates to come back, staying out of the conversation the maknae was desperately attempting to have; after some time, he’d realised that they probably were never going to come back and he’d felt some sort of antipathy against Youngbae, even if it wasn’t even his fault (and the fact that the latter had informed them that checking into Daesung’s room, he’d found them sleeping side by side, hadn’t made his mood better). 
 
The problem was that he didn’t really know what to do for him, because he knew he couldn’t save him forever from the dark hours in his head, and he was afraid. He would never admit it to anybody, but he was terrified, even more than he’d been the day that nightmare had started; maybe because he knew that it hadn’t ended, and that they’d just gotten used to it, maybe because they knew it would never end and there would always be something broken in the younger’s soul.

He was afraid because he’d promised him everything would be okay and he wasn’t sure that was true, he’d noticed the change Daesung had gone through. He was quieter than he used to be, and he tended to distance himself from them every day more. Sometimes he only wanted to grab his shoulders and shake some sense into him, tell him again and again and again how important he was, or to hold him close without saying anything. Things were going better, but they weren’t fine; perhaps he didn’t want to accept that it would probably take years for things to go back to normal, he was just that selfish.

Sometimes he thought that perhaps he didn’t want this broken Daesung, he wanted the him he used to know; it wasn’t true, he knew he wasn’t selfish to that point, he knew he had to accept that what had happened had happened. He would always want Daesung, under any circumstances; he knew how painful it was to live without him, unable to contact him, too coward to even try. He didn’t want to go through that again, so, he’d promised himself to always keep a keen eye on him; he couldn’t let anything happen to him, or he would never forgive himself.

- - -

The only thing he could hear as he stumbled down the dark hallway was his uneven breath, painfully echoing in his ears; it didn’t help his dazed state at all. He didn’t even know how he’d gotten there, it seemed just two seconds before that he was still lying in bed without a worry in the world; he didn’t even know why he was there.

He remembered waking up: he’d been madly shaking, and had struggled a lot trying to get up and out of the door, he hadn’t even let his body realise he wasn’t sleeping anymore. What he was sure of was that there was only space for a word, in his mind, and he kept repeating it over and over, it kept beating against the side of his head and wouldn’t get out.

Daesung. Daesung. Daesung. He had to find him, that was the only thing he knew, he didn’t even know why; he needed to make sure he was alright, needed to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d stopped thinking about it, maybe it scared him for nothing; yet, he faintly remembered what he’d been dreaming about, and how scared he’d been, how scared he still was. He didn’t actually believe dreams actually meant something, or, at least, he didn’t believe that what happened in dreams could also happen in reality; because, after all, he knew he’d had that nightmare as a mirror of his greatest fear.
 
He stopped for a second, his head spinning like crazy, leaning against the wall behind him; everything was starting to become more clear as time passed, he was starting to feel less confused, and the reason why he’d woken up was starting to become evident. That nightmare had been extremely vivid, terrifyingly realistic and he couldn’t stop thinking about it, since he kept reliving it every time he closed his eyes. Blood; that was what he could remember best.

A lot of blood, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint where it had been coming from. Everything else was blurry: he couldn’t remember where they had been, who else was there, he could only see the darkness and the blood. He knew he’d been screaming, and he asked himself if he’d actually done that in his sleep, even if it seemed unlikely, since it seemed that no one else was awake.

‘Don’t you dare, don’t you ing dare leave me.’ those were the words he kept hearing, and the voice sounded exactly like his, there wasn’t a distortion; maybe that was what scared him the most.

He hadn’t even realised he was dreaming; for all he knew, that could’ve really happened. It’d been painfully realistic and it had hurt, hurt so much he’d thought his heart was giving in. He pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the image from his head, in vain; the only solution was finding Daesung and see himself that nothing was wrong, that he was alive and breathing.
 
The light was on in the kitchen, and maybe that was the reason why he found his feet moving in that direction, trying to reach a bright place to find safety from the dark thoughts in his head.

When he noticed who was standing near the counter with a cup of tea in his hands, he felt both relieved and even more scared, for some reason; he didn’t move from the door, he stood there, staring. Rationally, he knew he was real, but, looking at him, he reminded him of a ghost, wandering around the house he used to live in, trying to find forgiveness in his past loved ones.

He got out of his trance only when Daesung turned around and spotted him there, seemingly surprised for a second, before a shy and quiet smile opened on his face; it completely knocked the air out of his lungs, he didn’t even know why. It just amazed him how the younger was still able to smile in the mid of all his desperation, how he was still somehow trying to comfort him; he deserved the universe and it pissed him off that he would never be able to give it to him.

In that moment, something inside him broke and he couldn’t stop himself: he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his dongsaeng, who seemed startled but didn’t pull away.
 
He was okay, he was really okay; he kept repeating the words to himself, hoping to actually convince himself. He felt like he was holding him so tightly he could break every bone in his body, and he honestly didn’t care; he needed to feel that he was there, needed to feel him. Only when he heard him whisper a soft and confused ‘hyung?’ he realised he was crying; he wasn’t even crying silently, he was sobbing, his sight was blurred and his nose was running, his cheeks completely soaked, his face a mess.

He knew it was selfish of him to cry, because nothing had happened to him, and Daesung had one thousand more reasons to do it, and yet, he couldn’t stop; he physically couldn’t stop. He’d kept the emotions he’d started to stack up six months before bottled up inside for all that time and he was bound to explode, at some point; it was only logical that it had happened in that moment, with the memory of his nightmare still on his mind. So, he allowed the tears to stream down his face, holding on to Daesung like he was his lifeline, and maybe he actually was.
 
He pulled back after what felt like an eternity but barely a second, and could only bite his bottom lip as he was faced with the younger’s worried expression, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed; he didn’t even know how to explain to him what had happened, why he’d suddenly started crying upon seeing him.

He knew he couldn’t tell him what he’d dreamed about, he couldn’t tell him he was afraid he was going to… well, kill himself. Instead of saying anything, he put his hands on his cheeks and only looked at him in the faint light, as if he was searching for an answer in his eyes; Daesung didn’t even question his actions, he blinked at him calmly, waiting for him to talk.
 
“I just… I needed to know you were okay.” he hesitated, because he still didn’t know what he was supposed to do, and he wasn’t sure this was a good idea; they kept saying they needed to give him space, to let him breathe.

But he was tired of it, because it always felt like they were leaving him alone to figure everything out, like they were abandoning him in his pain and he hated that; he’d promised everything was going to be alright, he’d promised they would always be there for him and now he felt like he’d lied (and he hated lying). “And you’re not.” he knew his was a bold choice of words and he could see it in the way Daesung’s eyes widened slightly; he could also see that maybe that was what he’d been supposed to do all along, because his dongsaeng had desperately needed somebody to tell him that, somebody to notice the truth behind the façade. “Just once, I wish you could stop pretending and allow yourself to admit that you’re not okay.” he’d never realised before how much power words could have; it was clear that the younger was helplessly trying to push back tears, helplessly trying to contain the storm inside of him. H

e let his hands slip away from his cheeks and put a hand around his back, pulling him close; in that moment, Daesung ducked his head and pressed his face into his shoulder, murmuring that he was sorry over and over, as if those were the only words he could remember and Seunghyun kept asking himself what he was sorry for, when he’d all the reasons to cry, more than anyone else.
 
Finally, he felt like he’d actually done something right, like he’d helped him free a bit of his despair, the despair he’d kept hidden for all that time; because his dongsaeng was just like that, selfless under every circumstance, always putting others before him. Even now, that was exactly what he’d been doing: they needed to know he was okay, therefore, he had to be okay, and he didn’t even care if he wasn’t for real.

And maybe, Seunghyun had decided to tell him that he could see past his lies because, unlike him, he was selfish, probably the most selfish person he knew; because, unlike everybody else, he’d needed to know that he wasn’t alright, had needed to see the truth with his own eyes.
 
“I love you, Daesung-ah…” he whispered, gently caressing his hair, suddenly gathering up the courage to speak up, suddenly finding words that felt right; perhaps, he’d finally succeeded in telling him everything he’d wanted to say for the past weeks. It felt like he’d just told him how important he was to him and how much he’d missed him, even if it wasn’t exactly what he’d said.
 
In that moment, it felt like he’d kept his promise and that everything was truly going to be fine.