Seungri could hear his brother's heartache – and it scared him. His brother wasn't a 'crier'.

He didn't so much keep his emotions bottled up; more that he rarely demonstrated them anywhere other than in private.

Even Seungri wasn't often privy to his emotional outbursts – though he had heard them through the doors that separated his brother's room from his.

The first time he heard SeungHyun’s tears, he had tried to help. But his brother had just scrubbed savagely at his eyes and then tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. So Seungri had left him alone – and then continued to do so, unless his brother sought out his comfort.

It wasn't that SeungHyun was stoic – he was just too much his father's son. Bearing of Yang Hyunsuk’s ilk simply didn't show that sort of emotion and, as with so many things, SeungHyun followed in his footsteps very closely.

Seungri, on the other hand, took after their mother in more than just looks. He was much more demonstrative and wore his heart on his sleeve.

SeungHyun knew that – and he also knew exactly what to do: whether he needed comfort, or whether he just needed to be left alone. He had empathy and understanding.

At that moment in time, Seungri felt like he had neither.

In typical Seunghyun style, he had withdrawn at the moment of his breakdown, pulling back and burying his face in his hands. This time, however, Seungri couldn't just leave him be. While the older boy preferred solitude, the younger needed contact.

His pain had been buried by medication and he did not have to worry about aggravating any of his minor injuries, so Seungri rolled onto his side and shifted as close as he could to the edge of the bed.

Not quite sure what to do – or, more importantly, how he would be received – he simply clasped SeungHyun’s shoulder. His own tears were dry now – at least for the time being. He was under no illusions that there wouldn't be more grieving along the way. But this moment belonged to his older brother.

His older brother didn't speak; didn't even acknowledge him at first. Seungri closed his eyes, fearing rejection. He was about to draw away, before SeungHyun did, when he felt a strong hand come to rest on top of his.

"Thanks, bro."

The words were softly spoken, but were no less heartfelt for it.

Seungri opened his eyes and SeungHyun did the same. They exchanged a look that conveyed more than words ever could: I'll always be here for you, whether you're aware of it or not. I'll be there.

Then the moment was broken as the door opened and a nurse stepped into the room. She looked at the brothers and smiled.

"I see that you're awake." Her words were directed towards Seungri. "How do you feel? Any nausea or dizziness?"

Seungri shook his head. He knew the drill – he'd had concussions before – but he really didn't want to interact with anyone except his brother. He couldn't find any words for her.

As was ever the case, SeungHyun came to his rescue.

"I can keep an eye on him." His own smile was a little resigned. "I know what to do – you can clear it with the doctor if you want."

"No, that's fine." The nurse looked a little flustered. She knew what the brothers had been through – and she had also been told of their unique circumstances, that dictated visiting hours didn't often apply to them. "I just wanted to make sure that you were both okay."

"We will be." SeungHyun’s response was aimed more at his brother than at the nurse – and, for Seungri, they were a promise.

Yang Hyunsuk spent the night at Police Chief Jin’s house. The Chief had insisted.

He couldn't say that he slept there, because sleep was destined to be an elusive stranger that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his wife:

Her shy smile as she first accepted his invitation to dinner.

Her excitement when he had proposed – and her breathless answer of 'yes' that had made his heart soar.

Her radiance as she walked to the altar – stunning beyond belief and the most beautiful bride he had ever laid eyes on.

Her passion in everything she said and did – everything she believed in. Her passion for him.

Her pride when she presented their firstborn child – mirrored with equal intensity when the second boy came.

He even remembered her frowns, when he screwed up – as he had on more than one occasion in the past.

And the last two memories connected somewhere in his brain. His wife was frowning – he had screwed up.

Seungri.

He remembered grief first – but then came the memory of harsh words: Observation, retention and recollection. Oh God, what had he done?

He thought about it for hours, trying to twist the situation so that his words wouldn't seem quite so condemning. He failed.

He had behaved unforgivably towards his youngest child – and it didn't even matter that he had been reeling from the death of his wife; was seeking answers that might not be there; was just looking for a reason that his wife was dead. His behaviour had been inexcusable.

Emotions had run high for all of them, but he was the only one who lost control.

Police Officer Jin had let him know that – in no uncertain terms – the moment he had dragged him out of Seungri’s interview. Only it had taken until now; until he had imagined his wife’s silent admonishment, to really sink in.

Hyunsuk got dressed. It didn't matter that it was one o'clock in the morning. He didn't need guilt vying with his grief. He had to talk to Seungri.

He crept down the stairs, unwilling to disturb his generous host. Then he realised that his stealth had been somewhat futile. Police Chief Jin was sitting at the kitchen table, with an array of papers spread out before him. He still wore his uniform; making it clear that he had not even considered retiring for the night.

Hyunsuk never stood a chance of sneaking out past him.

A few moments after his singular, abortive attempt the two men sat drinking coffee and shuffling the papers on the table. They contained precious little information.

It didn't matter. Both men knew that Hyunsuk’s reasons for being there had nothing to do with the accident. He was looking for atonement; for a release from his guilt at the way he had treated his second-born.

Police Chief Jin knew that he had to dissuade it. Though Hyunsuk was genuinely contrite, other emotions were still hovering dangerously close to the surface and the PI was clearly tormented by them.

It wouldn't take much for those emotions to take free rein – and then even more, and possibly irreparable, damage might be done. Any conversation with Seungri would be best undertaken in the morning.

So Police Chief Jin distracted Hyunsuk with a small scotch – citing that he needed it, even if the PI didn't. One led to a second and then a third. And then they spent a sad and yet companionable night remembering their wives.

Somehow, both SeungHyun and Seungri slept. They weren't disturbed by the nursing staff again and SeungHyun did as he had promised. He kept an eye on Seungri, waking him periodically – though Seungri’s sleep was sporadic to say the least.

They didn't talk much throughout the night and that was an alien thing to both of them. Seungri didn't talk because he was still wrestling with feelings of guilt. SeungHyun didn't talk because he was too afraid that his words might come out wrong, or be somehow misconstrued.

It wasn't like them to be so awkward with one another, but both were powerless against it. And so the night dragged on – and depression hovered in the periphery of both their minds.

Eventually, as with any other night, it was over and the dawn came. With it came breakfast – almost totally ignored, aside from a welcome drink of orange juice – and the return of Seungri’s doctor.

The doctor wasted no time in discharging Seungri. Though he sympathised with the boy's plight, there really was no need to keep him in. There had been no complications and it was obvious that his brother was perfectly capable of taking care of him.

Instructions were given, prescriptions were filled and forms were signed – and then Seungri was officially allowed to go home.

He baulked at the hospital doors.

"Seungri?" SeungHyun was instantly concerned. Seungri had ditched the obligatory wheelchair at the reception desk but, as he went to step out into the parking lot, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Seungri couldn't help his reaction – and nor could he fight it. As the automatic doors swished open, he was confronted by rows and rows of cars. To his traumatised mind, they all looked like the car that his mother had owned. Unbidden, his mind sent him back in time:

He grinned at his mom as he climbed into the car and she smiled indulgently back at him.

"Just remember," she said, light-heartedly. "If you get so much as a scratch on it, then you get to explain to your father."

"Don't worry, mom," he answered, with absolute confidence. "Not a scratch. I promise."

He hitched in a breath and looked out over the sea of cars; even though he was no longer really seeing them anymore. He felt almost claustrophobic, even though they had just stepped outside and after the brief breath he had snatched, he couldn't seem to draw another one.

"Seungri!"

SeungHyun’s voice seemed to come from a great distance and he sounded worried – more, he sounded scared. Seungri wanted to take that desperate tone out of his brother's voice, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the cars – from the identical row upon row of the cars. It was like a scene from 'The Twilight Zone'.

Full blown panic was becoming a very real threat and he felt SeungHyun’s hand tighten on his arm; heard his worried voice, even if he didn't actually comprehend the words.

And then another voice invaded his nightmare:

"SeungHyun! Seungri!"

It was their father's voice and it was enough to break the thrall that held Seungri. Even as he flinched away, he focussed on a red Toyota, a black Dodge, a silver Mustang, a green Ford. He didn't see a single car that looked even remotely like his mom's.

He finally remembered to breathe again – and then felt a different kind of panic flare through him. He wasn't at all sure he was ready to face his father – not after what had happened the last time they had spoken.

Then he realised that there wasn't going to be a confrontation – at least, not yet. As Seungri turned towards his dad, he saw his brother shift subtly. He didn't quite step in between him and his dad – but his body language, his message, was unmistakable:

I won't let you hurt him – not again.