Dinner with the boys was anything but calm and relaxing. The chattering was nonstop as the boys had years to catch up on. Even the quiet ones seemed to partake in the conversation. You’d never heard Kyungsoo talk so much, the low tenor of his voice was almost startling. The only open spot was between Baekhyun and Yixing and it was the last place you wanted to be. You felt guilty for thinking that way, so you tried hard to ignore it.

Chanyeol had arrived a few minutes after Yerin did, barely getting any food for himself. Yerin tried to avoid looking at him, but couldn't help it when he dropped a piece of food onto his shirt. As he wiped the sauce from the fabric, Yerin finally noticed. He was wearing a new shirt. In fact, on further inspection, all the boys were wearing fresh clothes instead of their standard white scrubs. Yerin leaned over to Baekhyun to inquire about it.

“That’s what was in all the bags,” he shrugged after chewing on a mouth full of rice. “We figured they were meant for us since they were all different sizes.”

Yerin nodded mindfully. “No, that’s good. You guys need some real clothes.”

“I haven’t worn jeans in years,” he laughed. “I almost forgot what they felt like.”

Looking down at her plate, Yerin bit back a laugh. The jeans Baekhyun had put on were tight fitting. Curious, she look around at the legs of the boys whose laps she could see and they were all wearing similar items. And their clothes weren’t just thrift store handoffs that no one wanted. Marcus had packed clothes that were in style and in good condition. They’d fit in at any club or bar; probably even attract hordes of admirers. The strange thought pushed the laugh out of her, a short loud yelp. But the giddiness soon took a nosedive.

Marcus filled every crevice of her mind; his laugh, his smile, his determination to do the right thing. He was the rare kind of human being. Finally understanding, she realized never fully saw how much he cared about the boys. On the surface he seemed to only be following orders, believing in what he was doing just enough to get it done. But that wasn’t true at all. He cared so much. He wanted the boys to feel human, normal again.

Yerin chuckles soon turned into ugly sobs. It was humiliating, but she couldn’t stop. All the boys had stopped eating and were staring, dumbfounded. Yixing reached out in a way of comfort, but Yerin jumped back, sending the barstool she'd been sitting on to the tile floor with a rattle. “Don’t touch me!”

Everyone gaped in shock. Never had she raised her voice at them, never had she shown anything except kindness and hope to them. She was losing it.

Spinning around, Yerin ran up the stairs all the way to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Not even making it to the bed, she collapsed in the middle of the room, hugging her knees in tight while the tears streamed on endlessly. A headache pounded against the back of her eyes, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the tears' constant stream. It was the first time she was really allowing herself to grieve for her loss. Marcus' absence was weighing heavily, pressing down so hard she felt like she might crack through the floor. 

A gentle knock echoed off the door, but she ignored it. The hinges creaked as someone opened the door slowly.

“Yerin?” It was Junmyeon.

Yerin sniffed, jumping up and walking over to the window in order to hide her red and swollen face. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, keeping what little remained of her composure together. “I’m fine. Please, go eat.”

“No.” Junmyeon closed the door. He stepped father into the room. “I’m sorry. About your friend.”

“His name was Marcus,” Yerin snapped. He wasn't just her friend. He was a whole person with a story she would never fully know. 

He didn’t even flinch at the acidic response. “I’m sorry about Marcus.”

That was the thing about Junmyeon. He was calm and sincere. Yerin wondered if she was to throw the lamp from the nightstand at him if he’d just stand there, stoic and somber, taking the hit without flinching. Probably.

“There weren’t supposed to be that many guards,” Yerin whispered. “It was a holiday, minimal staff on site. Getting you guys out, that’s all I was thinking about. It never occurred to me that someone could actually die. That Marcus could die.”

The sobs started up again as she thought of what they would do with his body. Would they hold it and inform his family? Did Marcus even have family? How could they get it to them? The company didn’t even know his real name. Would they dump it in the river and what for it to just become a cold case?

He deserved better than that. He deserved to live. Guilt rose up, burning her insides like bile in . If she’d never agreed to rescue the boys than he’d still be alive, wouldn’t he?

No. Yerin didn’t know much about Marcus, but she did know that he wouldn’t have waited for her or anyone else to come along. He would have done it on his own anyway.

Junmyeon cautiously held his hands out in front on him, his fingers just a whisper away from Yerin's arms. Yerin wasn't sure who moved first. It could have been her, shifting into his arms that beckoned with a comforting song. Or it could have been him taking that fateful step forward. In the end it didn’t really matter. His arms were tight around her, soothing and strong as she cried into his chest. Back and forth his hand rubbed the spot between her shoulder blades. It didn’t change the fact that Marcus was dead, but somehow she still felt better.

“Did you…,” Junmyeon’s voice was so soft, at first Yerin wasn’t sure if she actually heard him say anything. Her sobs had died down to sniffles, but she didn’t want to leave the embrace just yet. “Did you love him?”

Yerin frowned at the question, unsure of why he would ask such a thing. Shaking her head, bits of her hair clung to his plain white shirt. “He was my friend, but….” She sighed. “No, I didn’t love him. Not like that.”

She felt Junmyeon nod. “Did you leave anyone behind?”

This line of questioning was making her uncomfortable. It was obvious in his tone that he wasn’t implying family. No, she had no significant other that she’d left behind, but why did he want to know that? Shifting her shoulders, she wiggled out of his arms, keeping your eyes down. Subconsciously, Yerin started to rub the same spot on her wrist. A warm hand landed on top of hers, stopping the motion. Junmyeon gently pushed her thumb out of the way. Too late did you realize what he was doing.

Yerin gasped as she snatched her wrist away and held it protectively against her chest. He'd almost seen it. And that was a not a conversation to be had. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. 

“Yerin.” His voice came out low, soft like the wind on an autumn day as he took a step towards her. Reflexively, Yerin took a step back, keeping the distance equal between the two of them. Junmyeon sighed, apparently hoping for a different response. “I’m sorry.”

Unable to form words - or even a coherent thought of what to say - she nodded. She didn't even know what he was apologizing for. He had done nothing wrong, not really. 

Sighing, Junmyeon took a risk and ran the tips of his fingers through her hair.

“I-” Yerin cleared . “I should probably take a shower.” The strands Junmyeon now touched were greasy and stringy, in desperate need of washing. 

Junmyeon nodded. “That’ll be good. I’ll leave you, then.”

The look on his face was so heartbreaking that by instinctual reaction, Yerin reached out and grabbed his wrist when he’d turned to leave. Surprised by her own action, she stuttered, “Th-thank you, Junmyeon. For checking up on me.”

He looked back at her with a small smile, his eyes soft and welcoming. There was something else in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. He raised his wrist that was still enclosed in Yerin's hand. So tenderly that it couldn’t be called a kiss, he pressed his lips against her fingers, breathing in deeply.

Without any other type of response and closing the door behind him, he left the room.

At first, the shower was merely an excuse to be left alone. But now, the idea of hot water spraying all over her back and massaging her sore neck seemed like heaven. Turning on the water, she stripped out of the day’s clothes, letting them litter along the tile like a trail to the shower stall. The chilly air tickled her skin, but it was quickly chased away when she stepped under the shower head.

Yes, this was exactly what she needed. In the time alone, the steady pelting of the water droplets against her back became a soft, comforting voice as she ran her fingers through her hair, the beaded droplets of water soaking the strands. Closing her eyes, she could almost pretend that she was back in her apartment, washing off a long day in the lab.

Too soon, the water started to run cold, yanking her back to the reality she now faced. She turned it off and stepped out of the confined space of the shower, teeth chattering from the cold air. Footsteps echoed outside in the hallway along with chatter too low for her ears to hear. Quickly, she dried herself off and got dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts before stepping out of the room.

While she could still hear voices, everyone seemed to be in their rooms. Not quite tiptoeing but certainly trying to take quiet steps, she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. The plan was to clean up the mess from dinner. However, the kitchen was already spotless. Not a single pot was left on the stove and the drying rack was full, sitting in the sink to let the water run down the drain.

“I took care of it for you.”

Minseok stepped around Yerin and headed to the fridge as if this was an every day occurrence. He opened the door and pulled out a plate wrapped in tin foil, offering it up. “Still hungry?”

Surprised but thankful, Yerin took the plate, undoing the makeshift cover. After sticking it in the microwave, she plugged in an estimated time and turned around, half expecting Minseok to be gone. Instead he stood across the way, arms crossed over his chest.

For a while, the only sound was the hum of the microwave. The ding came and Yerin checked the food before taking out a fork. She started eating, holding the plate in her hand as she leaned against the counter.

“Thank you.”

Yerin nearly choked on a mouthful of rice at the sudden show of appreciation.

“You’re welcome,” Yerin whispered, unsure. It was hard being comfortable with him. In those short sessions back at the lab, he always refused to speak and when she'd left him the note about the escape, he didn’t even glance at it..

“What did Yixing do to you?”

The food stopped itself halfway down Yerin's throat. “Wh-what makes you think I’m upset with Yixing?”

Minseok set his jaw, staring off to the side. His hands were grasping the edge of the island and his arms were locked tight in place, making his biceps bulge.

“I saw the way you looked at him in the van. And then again at dinner. So, how could the gentlest one out of all of us done something to you to treat him like the plague?”

Shame washed over her. He was right. Even when being tortured, Yixing didn’t lose control or snap. But a death that might have been prevented still lingered hauntingly in Yerin's mind.

“His blood,” Yerin whispered after a full minute of silence. She put the plate down, unable to take another bite. “His blood can heal bullet wounds, but he didn’t tell me until Baekhyun was in danger. Marcus might still be here….”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Yixing stepped into the kitchen unexpectedly. Did he hear the conversation going on about him? He was careful to stay several feet away from Yerin. There was an expression of sorrow and guilt on his face, but Yerin couldn't see it. 

“What do you mean it doesn’t work like that?” she asked, failing to keep any acidity out of her voice. Minseok was right. She was angry. Angry that he didn’t speak up, angry that Marcus lost his life. Was it misdirected? Possibly. But it was still there, festering and needing a target to latch on to.

“My blood only works on my brothers,” Yixing stated. He took a risk and took a single step closer. Yerin didn’t move, but she did shrink back into herself just a bit. “They were testing Chanyeol’s invulnerability to fire. It was still in its early stages so when it go too hot, he was burned. Badly. At Dr. Wang’s suggestion, they tested my blood, to see if it could heal more than just myself. It did. But when they tried it on ordinary human subjects, their bodies rejected it. Most got sick and need transfusions with normal blood. One died.” Yixing’s eyes started forming tears of their own to match the ones pooling in Yerin's. “If I could have saved Marcus, I would have. I… wish I could have. He helped free us.”

A sob escaped from her. She was so ashamed, blaming something on the kind soul in front of her who couldn’t even hurt a fly. With a hand up against , Yerin tried to quiet her cries in order to not alert the rest of the house. It was too late.

Jongin came running to the kitchen, ignoring the others as he went straight to her. His fingers wrapped around Yerin's shoulders. Bending his neck he brought his face to her level.

“Yerin, what’s wrong?” When he didn’t receive answer, he turned to the other. “What happened?”

“She’s going to be upset for a while,” Minseok tried to reason. “She lost her friend. You don’t have to come running to her every time she sniffles, Jongin.” That earned the eldest a glare.

The sobs and pressure in Yerin's chest had died down. Now she turned her concentration on evening out her breaths, getting enough air to her lungs to satisfy her circulatory system.

“I’m okay,” Yerin whispered, getting Jongin’s attention back on you. “Really. It’s just going to take some time.”

The concerned speedster wiped away the remaining tears on Yerin's cheeks with his thumbs.He cradled her jaw in his palms, obviously still concerned and unsatisfied with her words. “Are you sure?”

Yerin nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. We should all head to bed. It’s been an exhausting day.”

Minseok stopped her from picking back up the plate. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep.”

Thanking him, Yerin gave Jongin’s hand a squeeze before heading back up the stairs.

She was going to have to be more in control of her emotions around the boys. Especially the more volatile ones. They were just as concerned for her as she was for them, it seemed. That wasn’t something that she was used to experiencing. Yerin's life had been spent being a comfort to others. Even her therapist had pointed out how she had difficulty opening up to others, letting the deeper layers of her thoughts feelings come to the surface no matter how far others went for her.

Marcus wasn’t the first person she’d lost. With that first lost, with time, she’d been able to bury it all from the rest of the world. So why was she unable to hold back now? What was it about these boys that made her so breakable and unable to keep her once impenetrable guard up?

After arriving at her room, Yerin closed the door quietly behind her and locked it.

“They’ll be the death of me.”