Seunghyun darted straight towards Seungri’s room – the only thought in his mind was getting to his younger brother faster; and he mentally dared anyone to try and stop him.

But he was stopped.

It wasn't the grab he'd been half-expecting, but just a light touch on his arm. It shouldn't have even made him pause, but he thought he also heard his name being said. It was so hoarse, so strangled that he couldn't be sure – so he turned to look at his dad.

There was something indefinable in his father's face: a kind of fear and desperation; but also a supplication. It made him look weak and indecisive.

Seunghyun couldn't just walk away from that look.

"Dad?" he asked – trying to sound supportive and not impatient. He hadn't forgotten that they had all been through hell lately – or that they all still had their grieving to do – but Seungri need them now. Get Seungri back and then they could all focus on facing the future together. He was under no illusions and knew they all had some serious healing to do. He just wanted to make sure three of them could do it together.

"I… Just give me a second," Hyunsuk pleaded.

Seunghyun nod – but only because 'a second' was about all he was prepared to spare.

"I know we need to be with your brother…" Hyunsuk continued, hesitantly. "And I can't… I won't let him wake up alone. But…" He looked at his older son; hiding nothing from him: "I'm scared…"

For an instant, Seunghyun could only stare at his father – stunned almost speechless by his confession. Anger threatened to emerge; anger at his dad's selfishness in thinking of his own feelings when Seungri was going through so much; anger that they were wasting time when Seungri might open his eyes at any moment – and open them to an impassive, if empathic, nurse instead of his family.

But the anger was fleeting and disappeared as quickly as it had arisen; as he identified the roiling in his own gut to be fear. His dad wasn't the only one who was scared.

They had good reason to be. This was like nothing they had ever experienced before. Of course they had held bedside vigils; but, whoever had been hurt, their awakening had only ever brought feelings of relief and happiness.

This time, their joy couldn't be unbridled. This time, they would be trying to figure Seungri's emotional state; trying to figure what psychological damage had been done and how lasting the effects might be; they would have to watch Seungri to ensure that he wasn't going to attempt to take his own life.

They were venturing into unknown territory – and they had every right to be afraid.

Seunghyun nodded faintly; acknowledging his dad's words. Then he turned his eyes towards the doctor. The doctor was standing by Seungri’s room, with one hand on the door handle. His eyes were downcast and it was clear he was trying to afford them some privacy. But it was also clear – just from their knowledge of the doctor – that the needs of his patient would always come first; and that door wasn't going to remain closed for very much longer.

Seunghyun take a deep breath and looked his dad square in the eye: "We have to do this."

"I know."

Another pronounced look exchanged between them and then they both nodded. As if either reading their minds, or somehow sensing that they were ready, the doctor chose that exact moment to open the door and precede them into Seungri's room.

Utter exhaustion – coupled with the numbing effects of pain medication – held Seungri in a virtually dreamless slumber for more than fourteen hours.

But he couldn't sleep forever and, gradually, awareness began to seep into his previously numbed state. He became aware of sounds first – muffled and indefinable, but they brought back the memory of brutal noise and damning words. He shifted restlessly, as that noise replayed itself in his head.

Words like mother-killer-mother-killer reverberated around his skull and he whimpered softly, as he suddenly remembered a damning accusation and a devastating acceptance of blame. He remembered his confession.

The nightmares came along with the memory – but now he believed he was merely remembering what had happened before his captivity:

The light turned green and he coasted through it; disappointed that he hadn't really got to play his 'stop-light game'. Then he saw the incoming car in his peripheral vision. It sped towards them and he panicked. When the impact came, he didn't know what to do. His mind screamed at him to hit the brake – but, somehow, his foot hit the pedal. The car was spinning out of control and a pole loomed in front of them. He didn't want to die! He spun the wheel hard and the passenger side took the brunt of the impact. And his mother screamed just before she died.

"Seungri!"

A voice invaded his nightmare and jerked him rudely back onto the path towards consciousness. But he still couldn't open his eyes.

With the noise came the light – and his head ached so fiercely…

Except it didn't.

The pain was numbed and dull – and another half-memory came back to him. Hadn't he awoken in a hospital bed?

He moved his arms; testing to see if he was cuffed. He brushed against soft material – not a stiff mattress or ratty blanket.

A sob escaped him and a voice spoke his name more softly – but he still couldn't open his eyes. It didn't matter where he was. The only truth that mattered was the fact that he had killed his mother.

Crippling guilt closed its fist around his heart.

It had the power to destroy him, even in his semi aware state. He didn't ever want to wake up and face the pain full on.

But the voices had other ideas and wouldn't leave him in peace:

"Seungri."

"Wake up."

"Come back to us."

"Seungri."

It was his dad and his hyung – and there was no denying those voices. Even though they might hate him when they realised what he had done, they were what was left of his family.

He supposed he should have been thankful that he was being given the chance to say goodbye to them – even though, by rights, they should have hated him. Maybe, in their grief, they hadn't figured out what had happened yet.

Maybe he would be forced to confess to them, too.

Another brutal memory slammed into him: words about observation, retention and recollection.

He hitched in another breath. His dad knew what he had done.

And yet, hadn't one of those encouraging voices been his father's?

Confusion clouded his mind. But he wasn't going to get any clarification by feigning sleep – which wasn't fooling anybody, given the persistent voices that continued to speak above him.

He flickered his eyelids – scared of the light that might assail him, given his memory of his captor – but the light was muted and painless.

Hearing twin gasps as he did so, Seungri opened his eyes.