SeungHyun could hear sirens in the distance and perhaps his father heard them too – on some subconscious level – because he chose that exact moment to begin to stir. His eyes flickered and his hands twitched. Then he uttered a low and pain-filled moan.

SeungHyun was instantly crouching back at his side; abandoning his fruitless pacing as he waited for help to arrive. His imagination was in overdrive and he couldn't help but fear for Seungri – even though he had nothing solid to base those fears on.

However, he had to push those fears aside and focus on his father.

"Slow dad," he murmured, as his dad’s movements increased and pain flashed across his features. SeungHyun laid a gentle hand on his shoulder to still those movements and was rewarded by brown eyes flickering open. "Keep still," he continued, knowing that his tone was infinitely more important than the actual words. "You're going to be fine. Help's on the way."

He tried to keep his dad calm, but it was always going to be a difficult – if not impossible – task, given the circumstances that currently surrounded their family.

Unsurprisingly, Hyunsuk shrugged his hand away and raised himself up onto his elbows. The only consolation SeungHyun had was that the other man's eyes were clear and there were no obvious signs of a concussion.

"Where's Seungri?" His dad asked – and his voice was as equally clear as his eyes.

SeungHyun felt his stomach drop as his dread returned with full force. Why hadn't his dad asked about his assailant first? Why hadn't he been concerned about Arashi?

"Dad…" He wasn't quite sure how to answer.

Hyunsuk pushed himself fully upright and reached out to grab hold of SeungHyun’s bicep. "Where's Seungri?"

"He's at the café." Even as SeungHyun said the words, he prayed they were still true. He had left Seungri back at the café – but whether he was still there was a different matter entirely.

Seungri was the impulsive one – and hurt or not, would not think twice about rushing headlong into danger. Especially when his family was threatened.

SeungHyun tried to see it as a good sign that Seungri hadn't caught up with them in the alley, but he knew better than to put too much faith in that one fact. He couldn't forget the expression on Arashi’s face as he'd made his escape – and something told him that it was somehow connected to Seungri.

"Call him," Hyunsuk instructed, his own pain now forgotten.

"He doesn't have his phone," SeungHyun remembered. Even as he said the words, his heart sank ever lower. How had he left his injured brother in such a vulnerable situation? "It's in the car, with his things from the hospital."

"Then we have to get to him!" Hyunsuk tried to push himself to his feet; tried to ignore the sickening dizziness that suddenly assailed him. He could hear the sirens, now so shockingly loud that the emergency services had to be almost right on top of them. He definitely didn't have time for the hospital.

"Dad…" SeungHyun tried to protest. Help was almost with them and his concern for Seungri was still nothing more than an instinct. His primary worry had to be for his dad. He had, after all, been unconscious for some minutes. However, the next words from his father's mouth silenced any further protest:

"He was goading me." He used his grip on SeungHyun’s arm to steady himself, as he finally found his equilibrium. "I was going to call for backup. I know how dangerous he is, but then he said…"

He was interrupted as a police car turned into the alley – lights flashing, but the sirens thankfully now silenced. An ambulance stood ready at the intersection.

"What did he say, dad?" SeungHyun successfully ignored both; his previous dread now turning into very real fear.

"He said: 'which one will I take from you next?'"

Park Jae Sang had been close enough to respond to the dispatcher's call for assistance to Yang SeungHyun. He had also been aware of the request for an ambulance and impotent anger twisted his gut as he sped towards the address he'd been given.

How much more was this family supposed to take? They were all still reeling from the death of their mother and yet, within a day, something else had befallen them.

They didn't deserve any of what was happening to them.

As he drove – lights and sirens blazing – he feared what he might find. The dispatcher had divulged everything she knew, but she only had the barest facts to work from. A man had been attacked by a suspected escaped felon. The man was Yang Hyunsuk; the perpetrator Arashi – and it was serious enough to require an ambulance.

He spared a glance towards his rookie partner as he floored the gas. His partner was not only new to the force; he was also new to the town. He probably didn't understand exactly who his friends were and why it was so important for him to help them.

Jae Sang’s brief glance dared the rookie to question his call; to argue their proximity; to second-guess him in any way at all. But his partner held his silence – watching with barely concealed excitement as Jae Sang pushed their cruiser to its very limits.

"Jae Sang!" SeungHyun would only have been more relieved if it had been Police Chief Jin stepping out of the car that had pulled up alongside them. He didn't waste another word with any pleasantries. "We have to get to Seungri."

"Whoa, SeungHyun. Slow down!" Jae Sang focussed his attention on the agitated teen; pleased to note that his partner had made a beeline for Hyunsuk and was already beckoning the EMTs to come and do their job. "Tell me what happened."

"There's no time." SeungHyun tried to dodge past the cop, but Jae Sang grabbed hold of his shoulders and held him fast.

"Your dad needs help." He tried to force SeungHyun into finding some perspective – but it only had the opposite effect. SeungHyun’s agitation grew.

"Seungri needs help!"

At the exact same moment, Jae Sang heard Hyunsuk cry out in anger and turned just in time to see the PI push his partner forcefully away from him.

Things were in danger of getting out of hand. Whether Yang Hyunsuk held a Private Investigator's licence or not, he was still a civilian. And he had just come dangerously close to assaulting a police officer.

"Tell me what happened." Jae Sang demanded of SeungHyun.

"Arashi was here and he hurt my dad." As he said the words, SeungHyun’s eyes sought out the EMTs. They were hovering some distance away and he couldn't really blame them. The atmosphere around the four of them was definitely charged.

"And he's gone after Seungri!" Hyunsuk had clearly decided that Jae Sang’s partner wasn't worth his time and so he rounded on Jae Sang instead. "We have to stop him."

Jae Sang didn't waste any more time fishing for details. Though he privately wondered exactly what the father and son knew – and how they knew it – he trusted them implicitly. And their worry over Seungri was almost like a living thing. "Where is Seungri?" He asked the only question that mattered.

"A café…" Hyunsuk began. Then he blinked and looked at SeungHyun in supplication – he'd been much more concerned about Seungri than his surroundings when they had entered the café.

"The café's ....... It's about a block and a half from here."

"Then let's go." Pausing only to direct Jae Sang’s partner to remain at the scene to liaise with the Crime Scene Investigators, he ushered the two of them into his cruiser.

Somewhere along the way, Seungri passed out. He remembered being bustled into a waiting car; being forced to lie in the foot well in the back of that car; trying to protest and receiving another glancing blow to his already aching head. That hadn't knocked him out cold, because he also remembered the unwelcome nausea that it had induced. At least he didn't throw up – or he didn't think he did.

But full darkness wasn't too far away from that final blow.

When awareness returned, he was lying on a cold stone floor. His hands were still bound and utter darkness surrounded him.

Terror clenched an icy fist around his heart.

The darkness was absolute: sheer blackness that gave no hint to a window, or door, or wall, or even if the floor continued solidly around where he lay. For all he knew, he might be lying on the edge of some great drop.

Terror gave way to mind-numbing, paralysing panic.

He could not see, couldn't hear a thing and was too terrified to move. He tried the only thing he had left:

"H… hello?" His voice sounded unnaturally loud, even though – in reality – he knew it had been scratchy and weak. In the thick, black silence it had sounded like a scream.

He thought about trying to get to his knees, of maybe trying to explore the confines of his prison. But, the moment he moved, vertigo plunged through him – leaving him dizzy and gasping and more afraid than ever.

All he had was the small piece of cold concrete on which he lay. Everywhere else was rife with uncertainty and danger.

Fear spiked through him and he was unable to prevent a sob from escaping – again he flinched away from the sound.

He was horribly confused. More vague memories teased at the edge of his awareness and, if he had been capable of logical thought, he would have realised that the recent blows to his head were contributing to the extreme emotions and confusion that raged through him.

But he was no longer capable of logic and he could do nothing other than just lie there and try to fight down the nausea and pain that continued to assail him.