It was the night before school, and Kris was laying in bed. He was thinking back on the last month, and coming to terms with the fact that he really had his guard up much higher than usual here. Normally, he would have ignored Lay and left it alone - so why was he bullying the kid? It didn’t make sense, even to him.

And then there was the scene at the ice cream shop. A week later, and Kris couldn’t seem to forget the tears he had seen in Lay’s eyes. Sure, he had seemed fine, but what? Did he think Kris was stupid? If there was anything he was aware of, it was people’s emotions. And he hated seeing people cry.

He rolled in his bed, stuffing his face into the pillow and feeling uneasy. It was happening again, just like every other time. And just like all the times that came before, there was nothing he could do about it. He had carried a small amount of hope that meeting Lay’s friends would ease him into it just a little better, but it appeared there was no such luck.

The anxiety he was going to spend the night trying to fight off was a product of hundreds of moves, zero stability, and no friends. He would be going into a new school for the hundredth time at least, and he would do so as he always had. Stone faced and cold hearted. It wasn’t that he was mean, like people tended to think - but it was too embarrassing to admit he was scared.

And then there was that nagging little voice in the back of his head, telling him it was all his fault. He was the one isolated himself, he was the one who pushed everyone away, and he was the one who made his life the train wreck that it was. No one wanted him because he was so messed up. So broken, so damaged. He felt like a pet being tossed from home to home - and why wouldn’t he be? Who else would bite the hand that feeds?

He started feeling just a little bit sick to his stomach as his mind traveled back through all the people and places he had been. He had managed to remember and separate them for the most part - but there was one he just couldn’t remember. His biological parents. Someone had to have wanted him at some point in time, right? Otherwise, why would he be here?

But it wasn’t enough. Or he wasn’t enough. He wasn’t sure anymore, or maybe he never had been. He took a breath, trying to relax himself from the anxiety that was building and building. He knew it was pointless. He just had to make it through the night, one minute at a time. This, of course, was easier said than done.

He had the routine burned into his skull by now, so when the nausea gave way to jerky, fitful movements he wasn’t surprised. It started with a simple turn of the head. Left, then right, then left again. When that wasn’t enough to ease him, his abdomen crunched, his legs curled, and his arms tightened around his body. The jerking movements settled to twitches in his limbs, and for a short while he was able to rest that way.

Then came the explosion within his chest. It was what melded his body and mind, refusing any sort of escape. It started like a drop of hot water in the center of his frozen chest, then spidered out like a cracked windshield. As it went, smaller cracks would form, connecting and covering him until he was certain he would shatter from a single touch.

In the midst of this, his breathing would become irregular. Short, choppy pants that left him lightheaded and dizzy. Sometimes he felt like he would pass out. Sometimes he did. He prefered it when things took that turn. At least that way he didn’t have to feel everything, but it was a rare occurrence. Even then, he knew there was no easy way out for him that night. He twitched again, desperate for some semblance of safety to carry him through the night.

He finally got a handle on his breathing after a little while, and his body relaxed with him. The only reminder of the sudden panic attack was a pounding headache. There was no doubt in Kris’s mind that this was only the first of several attacks to come, so he made the decision to hunt for painkillers during the lull in anxiety.

He pushed himself up, feeling his stomach protest to the movement. He sighed, sliding his feet onto the cool floor and feeling relieved as the temperature difference settled his nerves just slightly. He padded over to the door silently, then pulled it open and slipped down the hall to the bathroom. He pulled the mirror of the medicine cabinet open and let his eyes wander for a moment before settling on some generic headache medicine. Ami penjeong? He swallowed a couple of the pills and put the container back into the cabinet and headed out of the bathroom.

He had barely collapsed back onto his bed when the next one started. He managed to get a grip on his pillow and hide his face in it’s cool softness before the twitching came back. It was a strange thing for him, needing something outside of himself to offer comfort, but wasn’t that the entire problem anyway?

He isolated himself. It wasn’t as though no one wanted to talk to him; he just pushed them away when they tried. Lay was a perfect example. Someone completely willing to be there for him, but Kris had chosen this loneliness over a quasi-brother. And why had he done that? Fear.

He wasn’t afraid of Lay, or any of his friends. They all seemed nice enough, anyway.

No, the fear stemmed from the very thing it created - pain. He was afraid he would make a friend, really connect with someone, and have to leave them behind. A small, almost inaudible sound escaped Kris’s lips and went straight into the pillow. He worked hard to keep his breathing even, even as a numbing sensation shot through his body. This life was killing him.

His anxiety attacks and exhaustion, however, were nothing compared to the miniature heart attack he was certain he had when he felt something touch him. He jerked his head out of the pillow instantly, his eyes focusing on the figure leaning over his bed. Lay. The boy had the edge of Kris’s blanket in his hands, like he was about to pull it up over the elder, and he had a bit of a deer-in-headlights expression on his face as he stared at Kris.

“I...” Lay started, then looked around nervously. “I thought you were talking in your sleep again. I-I'm sorry.”

“In my...sleep?” Kris asked a bit breathlessly. Lay nodded.

“You do it almost every night.” Lay confirmed. “I hear you when I get up to go to the bathroom, or go to get some water.”

Kris didn’t say anything - he wasn’t sure he could. He was cracking and splintering again, and he didn’t want Lay to see it. He didn’t want anyone to see it. The younger seemed to be completely oblivious to the elder’s rampant emotions, however, and he simply draped the blanket up over him with an uncomfortable expression.

“Do...do you want some tea?” He asked, taking Kris completely by surprise.

Somehow, though, he found himself nodding. Lay grinned and darted out the door to go make it, and Kris worked on tucking his emotions away again. He couldn’t help but wonder what the younger boy saw in his face to make him behave the way he did, but he opted not to dwell on useless things.

He took a slow, deep breath, letting his head fall back on the pillow for a moment as the numbness, the twitching, and the choking anxiety all faded out. Then he pushed himself up off the bed and headed down to the kitchen. When he walked in he saw Lay standing near the stove, hovering entirely too close to the teapot he was boiling water in.

It was instinct, more than anything else, for him to pull Lay out of the way just as the hot steam shot out of the spout. Kris hissed almost silently as he caught the edge of the steam on the palm of his left hand, then grabbed the teapot and moved it to a different burner before shutting off the one that was being used. He then turned to Lay, who was staring at him with huge eyes.

“Don’t stand so close next time.” Kris snapped, and Lay nodded quickly.

“S-sorry, hyung.” Lay stuttered out. Kris opened his mouth, his whiplash tongue ready to inflict damage, but something stopped him. He let out a sigh, and moved over to the sink to turn on the cold water, then stuck his hand under the flow. Lay squirmed closer, looking at the blister forming on the elders hand. “I’ll go get the cream for burns.”

Kris nodded, and Lay took off running up the stairs. Kris sighed again, looking at the red welt in the center of his palm. It most likely wouldn’t scar, but it still hurt. He lifted his nose in frustration while he waited for the the cold water to coax the heat from his skin, but all he could think of was one simple question - why had he gotten involved?

“Hyung, I have it.” Lay said, and Kris turned to him. The younger boy was holding out a towel, waiting for Kris to pull his hand out of the water. Reluctantly, he did just that, and Lay carefully dried his hand, surprising Kris by causing him absolutely no pain. “Hold still, ok? I need to put the cream on, and then the bandage.”

Kris nodded dumbly, and the younger quickly set to work. Within a minute his hand was wrapped up in fluffy white gauze, and he could feel the cream taking the heat and sting out much faster than the faucet had. He raised his eyes to the younger, who looked a bit nervous, and he reached out with his other hand to pat Lay on the head.

“Thanks.” He finally said, and Lay’s face lit up. Within a few more minutes, there was a mug of tea in front of each of them. They sat in silence the whole time they were drinking, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. By the time they were done, heavy eyelids were a common thing between them, and they were both ready for bed.

“I’ll check that in the morning to make sure it’s healing well.” Lay suddenly spoke. Kris glanced over at him, then nodded before getting up and setting his cup in the sink. “You should go to bed. You look tired.”

“I’m going.” Kris said, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if it was his exhaustion, or just his gratitude for the other unknowingly pulling him out of his anxious mind-set that prompted the next set of words that fell from his lips, but he kind of liked the smile they caused. In the kind of way one would like having his toe stepped on, of course.

“Night, dìdì.”

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A/N: Didi is Chinese for "little brother" in case anyone didn't know. It's a...very very small sign of acceptance on Kris's part. And did anyone catch the whole "Lay's a healing unicorn, so he's going to fix Kris's oo" thing I was going for? Anywho, yeah. .-. New chapter.

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