“The world is a cruel place, Jae-ssi. Please, don’t leave me alone. Until I find my brother, if I find him, you’re all I have. No one else cares. They never have, and I’m scared. The thought of being on my own again scares me. Please, Jae-ssi, tell me you won’t go. You’ve seen the kinds of things that happen to me. I’m different. I just am. I don’t know why people hate that about me. I’ve been stepped on… pushed away… tossed out like yesterday’s trash. I can’t be alone. I can’t do it again. I just can’t. The thought of it all really scares me…” – Taemin

There was no denying that werewolves had been the cause of the chaos on the other side of town. Only werewolves have nails that could make scratches like the ones we found, not to mention they could only make those marks on surfaces that no person or thing could, at least not like that. The bite marks that we discovered gave them away as well – too big to be a domestic pet and there weren’t any other animals that could bite like that in the area. It wasn’t the first time that we had a job scolding werewolves, but that feeling in my stomach was easily swaying my thought that this was just another average job.

Minho’s hand went to my knee while his other kept a grip on the steering wheel. Maybe my face was giving away how uneasy I was feeling, or maybe he could read me, in general, better than I gave him credit for. I laid my hand over his and kept my eyes focused on the world outside the window, watching the scenery pass by.

“Wait, do you guys smell that,” I asked, my nose cringing a bit, “It smells like wet dog…”

“That could just be Jonghyun-hyung,” Minho muttered. His nose was twisting up, so, apparently, he could smell it, too.

“That’s not me. I don’t smell like dog,” Jonghyun retorted, from the back of the car.

“Not the time, you two,” I scoffed before pointing ahead and taking notice to a group of guys playing around on one side of the street and then making their way across to the other. The three of us made a sound of disgust, the smell of wet dog much stronger now, also mixed with other things, like sweat, dirt, blood, and road kill.

Minho pulled to the side of the street, where the group had just been standing. We got out and stood where we were for a moment, watching them.

The group of boys didn’t seem to have anything similar about them besides the smell. Their tall and short appearances varied, from boys in Polo’s and khakis, to boys in sweatpants and wifebeaters, to boys in skinny jeans and baggy sweaters. They all wore sneakers, some ragged, others new and branded.

All but one.

This particular one seemed to be the runt of his pack, or something of the sort. His style was a mixture of the others, yet all his own. He was wearing a black shirt that was much too big for him and exposed a shoulder of pale skin. His dark denim skinnies weren’t exactly tight but they were far from loose. On his feet, he donned black boots – worn combat boots it seemed. The boy’s hair was a color between a dark shade of strawberry blonde and a light shade of auburn, the ends of his hair reaching close to the middle of his back. His face was sweet and a bit childish; his features soft instead of hard and rugged like the others around him.

“Yah! Someone do something about him,” one of the boys suddenly yelled. There seemed to be an uproar of agreement. The beautiful boy was pushed up against the brick wall of a nearby building, a boy in baggy grey sweats holding him there with his forearm, “You’ve done nothing. You don’t even deserve to be apart of the pack!” Another round of agreements. From where we stood, we could hear the connection of fist and jaw with ease. It was a soft crack that had caught the long-haired boy off-guard. He was shoved to the ground and kicked a couple of times by the one that had pinned and punched him. “I can’t take runts who have a hard time spilling a little blood or breaking a few bones in my pack,” he was told. He cringed as the others began closing in on him. Feet and fists crashed down on him.

Before I realized it, I was in the midst of the boys, holding the one taking all the abuse tightly to my chest. Jonghyun and Minho finally came over, dealing with all the others. I helped the one up that I was holding and walked him over to the car. I thought he would push me away or something of the sort, but he simply slid into the backseat with me.

“My name is Jae,” I began softly, cleaning his face with a handkerchief, “Can I know yours?”

He was cautious as he looked at me. He didn’t answer until I set the handkerchief down, “Tae…Taemin…”

I laid my hand on his cheek, “Okay, Taemin-ssi. Are you okay with coming home with me? You can leave whenever you feel like it, okay? I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

Taemin nodded, his bangs bouncing a little and I saw a brief smile on his pouty lips before he rested his head against my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair, “Are you feeling okay?” He nodded into the crook of my neck and I continued to move my fingers through his hair.

Taemin was asleep on my shoulder when Jonghyun and Minho got into the car. There were grunts of irritation as they slid in and then they glanced back at me, quiet and curious. “He’s coming home with us,” I told them simply, “I want to make sure he’s okay.” They said nothing and turned back around.

Taemin stayed fast asleep until I had to wake him up to go into the apartment. Minho was nice enough to carry him up the stairs. Jonghyun walked behind me as I followed Minho.

I ran a bath for Taemin once everyone was settled. Jonghyun was in the kitchen and Minho in the living room when I walked back out while carrying Taemin’s bloodied clothes with me. I put them into the hamper in the closet across from the bathroom and then stood where the kitchen met the living room, in view of both of them, “Are you two going to fill me in or not?” Minho pulled me down onto the couch at his side and I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. When his arms wrapped around my shoulders and held me close to him, I immediately knew the reason. Jonghyun had entered the living room and sat in the seat across from us. His eyes more focused on me than on Minho, “It was the group that we were looking for. Part of it, anyway.”

“The head of that pack threatened that he’d off us if we didn’t leave them alone,” Minho cut in, “Said something about there being more of them.”

I noticed the glint in their eyes, “All right. Which one of you hit him this time and sent him back with a message?” They both raised a hand causing a sigh to slip out of my lips, “And this is why we always end up in more trouble than we start off with.”

“They seemed more upset about you protecting their ‘little runt,’” Minho stated, matter-of-factly.

“There was no reason for him to be treated like that, whether he’s the runt or not. It’s not fair.”

“The world isn’t fair.” This was Jonghyun’s voice, cutting across the room, if you could really even call it a room.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms at my chest, “So, what are we supposed to do now? The people we deal with usually come through with their threats.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Minho ran a hand along the nape of his neck before it fell back into his lap, “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“Noona~” The only other voice in the apartment called and I stood up immediately.

“He assumed you were older than him,” Jonghyun questioned.

I shook my head and shrugged, “I guess so. It doesn’t matter since I don’t know either.” After that, I was at the bathroom door talking with Taemin.

The pretty boy had the towel wrapped around his waist and his arms wrapped securely around his top half. I couldn’t smile though. The purple and blue bruises that danced across his skin made me frown immediately. “Are you sure you’re okay,” I asked softly. I knew that he was healing, but it still didn’t look like he was as okay as I was hoping him to be. Taemin simply nodded in my direction. “You’ll have to shop through our clothes until we can go out and get something for you, okay,” I informed him before showing him to the back bedroom and shutting the door. I headed back into the living room and sat back where I had been, although closer to the other end of the couch with my hands folded tightly in my lap.

“How long are you going to keep him here,” Jonghyun asked.

I tucked my hair behind my ear, “I told him that he can leave whenever he feels like it.”

“You didn’t even ask me,” Minho stated, his voice far from upset at his own realization.

“Does it bother you,” I glanced at him and he kept quiet, looking away.

There was a highly uncomfortable silence that fell over the three of us, before Jonghyun let out a sigh of irritation and stood up. “I think I’ll just go now,” he muttered, making his way to the door. I stood up after him, going over to see him out.

“Is something bothering you,” I asked softly, as he slipped his feet into his boots.

He didn’t look at me and shook his head.

I narrowed my eyes, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms at my chest again, “Jonghyun, I’m serious.”

He finished lacing up one boot and then stood erect, turning and looking at me. There was that look in his eyes that I had seen earlier and it gave me the most uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m fine,” he finally replied, laying his hand just under my jaw and running his thumb across my cheek.

“I’m not stupid. You can’t hide that look from me. You at it and always have.”

The motion of his thumb stopped, but his hand stayed in place, and he smiled – broken and unsure, “Then, I really wish you’d figure this out.”

His hand dropped from my cheek and I took the few steps to the door behind him as he opened it and stood in the hallway. That same hand though quickly rece we were hidden by the door. He kissed me so deeply that I felt way more than usual when he would manage to sneak one in. This one wasn’t playful or just to mess with my head. No, there was so,so much more hidden there. I looked into his eyes and read his emotions immediately; there was pain, anguish, despair, guilt, anger, want, need, love, hate… Everything, every single emotion, was bubbling just under his skin. The emotions overloaded my own senses and I felt like I was going to explode under the pressure. I put my hand over my chest, feeling an awful aching and watched as he tried to give me another smile. An “I love you” fell from his lips, as it always did when he would leave, but something just wasn’t right with this one.

I prayed it wasn’t a goodbye.