Kibum, in all of his motherly glory, let Minho mope around in bed for a full two days. On the first he catered to him like a baby, bringing him meals, sitting with him, letting him be self deprecating, and ultimately just being there for him. And on the second, while he was less willing to let Minho cry into his pillow, he was patient and offered many backrubs.

After that Kibum began pestering him to get up, take a shower, and act like a human being again.

“You’re not the first person to break up with someone they love, Minho,” Kibum said from the doorway. “I’m not trying to be unsympathetic, but you’re not the first. You have to stop crying now.”

It was easier said than done.

And by the fourth day, after a failed Jonghyun intervention, and Kibum physically dragging him out of his room, then making Minho feel all kinds of guilty when he damn near pulled his stitches, there were no more tears left to cry. He was spent, and he felt empty.

“Taemin comes home today,” Kibum said, pushing him towards the shower. “I have a follow-up doctor’s appointment so you have to go pick him up. Take him out for lunch. Be a decent big brother to him before he has his own tears to cry. Can you do that?”

“Does he know?” Minho asked blandly, watching as Kibum got the shower started for him.

“About you and Onew?” Kibum sighed. “I told him there was a fight and not to expect Onew to come around here again. I think Taemin’s old enough to know what it means. So let him baby you. He’ll want to. He’s the type, and I’m all done in that department. Feed him and then bring him back here so Jonghyun can have a crack at being a brother for once instead of just a friend.”

Minho pulled his shirt over his head and said, “You think I’m just being overdramatic, but I love Jinki. I love someone who doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“And why is that?” Kibum demanded, hands on his hips. “Because you went and had a police workup done on his cousin. Apparently after he told you to leave him alone. Don’t tell me you thought that was a smart idea.”

“Can you give me a break in-between rounds. I can only take so much lecturing.”

Kibum gave him a pat on the shoulder and a shove towards the spray of the shower. “Okay. Just go shower now. You can’t smell this bad when you pick up Taemin. We might lose custody over the smell alone.”

Shrugging out of his pants, Minho stumbled his way into the shower, trying to think about anything but how much he’d miss Jinki’s smile, the way Jinki always wanted to hold his hand, Jinki’s never ending upbeat personality, and ultimately how dim his future looked without all of that now.

Kibum could never understand.

Minho knew Jinki was the one.

And now he was gone.

“Minho!”

Several hours later Minho had his arms full of a bright, excited teenager, and while it didn’t dull the ache in his heart, it helped a little.

“Did you have a good trip? Smooth flight?” Minho asked, rubbing at Taemin’s head playfully. “You look good.”

It was true. Taemin looked completely refreshed, and it something that had obviously been needed. Between his exams and the shock of his relationship with Jonghyun coming out, Minho had hated how worn down Taemin had been. Him being able to go away for a while, to simply truly enjoy himself, had been immeasurably good.

“It was good,” Taemin said, pulling his suitcase behind him as they walked to the car. “We got to stay in this really cool traditional home. And we went fishing every day. We ate everything we caught.”

“You know,” Minho said, “I don’t think we’ve ever gone on vacation. How about next year? After you finish your first year at the university and are probably dying for a break.”

Taemin gave him a long look. “If I even make it into university.”

They wouldn’t know Taemin’s results for a while longer, but there was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Taemin was brilliant enough to go anywhere he wanted. He could have applied aboard and gotten in. Though Minho was relieved he hadn’t decided to go somewhere far off, like America or China.

“Want to get something to eat?” Minho asked, unlocking the car and popping the trunk for Taemin’s suitcase. “A little birdie told me that Jonghyun is going to bombard you relatively soon. You may need your strength for all the ensuing angst.”

“I deserve beef,” Taemin said, getting in the car. “A lot of beef, and the really good kind, for forgiving you and Jonghyun while I was away on my trip. Your remaining guilt should earn me expensive beef.”

Minho flicked his wrist and turned the engine over, gesturing for Taemin’s seatbelt. “Because I am still feeling guilty, I’ll buy you expensive beef. And then we’re square, okay?”

“I hardly think some beef is going to make up for you keeping the fact that I have a brother who is alive and well, a complete secret from me. But I’m in a good mood, so we’ll make it work.”

Minho laughed at Taemin’s words. “I missed you,” he said, and meant it.

Minho ended up taking Taemin to his favorite restaurant. It didn’t offer the most expensive beef Minho had ever eaten in his life, but it was still the best, and it put a stunning smile on Taemin’s face.

As they waited for their food to start arriving, Taemin said tentatively, “So you and Key are always really good at listening to my problems. Key told me what happened with Onew. Do you want to tell me about your problems instead?”

“Not especially,” Minho said.

“But … are you guys just taking a break?”

“I doubt it.” Minho thought back to the way Jinki had looked, that final moment before he’d been gone from Minho’s life. “I betrayed his trust. I betrayed him. That’s not something that two people can come back from easily. And he doesn’t seem to want to at all.”

Delicately, Taemin said, “You don’t look sorry. Upset, yeah, but not sorry.”

“I put together a file on someone I thought was a threat.” Minho traced the condensation on the cup of water in front of him. “I did the only thing I knew how to do when faced with a threat. And I didn’t just see him as a danger to Jinki, either. I saw him as someone who could end up hurting anyone associated with Jinki and I. That includes you, and Kibum, and Jonghyun, and everyone else I care about. I didn’t think what I was doing was wrong. Part of me still doesn’t, even if I know how much it hurt Jinki. I’m not sorry I did it. I won’t lie and say I am. But I am ashamed that I tried to hide it, and even if it would have been hard, I should have been honest with Jinki. That’s my mistake, and I guess it’s one I have to learn the hard way.”

“But you love Jinki,” Taemin said, eyebrows furrowed. “And he loves you.”

“He never said it back,” Minho said, a little childishly.

“Did he have to? Because I could tell he did and I never heard him say it either.”

Minho shrugged. “I guess I needed to hear it more than I thought I did. Not that it matters now.”

Taemin was quiet for a minute, then asked, “What are you going to do?”

“With my love life?” Minho chuckled. “Nothing. I think I’ve had my fill of failed relationships.” And suddenly he was thinking about Sulli. About the girl that had left him and made him swear off love until Jinki had come barging into his life, almost demanding to be loved. “I’m just going to concentrate on work from now on.”

When their food arrived, Taemin said, “Of all the times I’ve wanted to give up in my life, you never let me. So I hope you don’t think I’m going to let you just give up on love. You can’t just give up on Onew.”

“I can’t make him want me, or trust me, and I’d be wrong to try.”

“You’d be wrong to fight for him?”

“It wouldn’t be fighting for him,” Minho told Taemin gently. “When someone tells you that they’re done with you. When they say that they don’t want to be with you anymore, you have to respect that. When you’re a little older, you’ll understand. It isn’t fighting for someone when their mind is made up. You just have to respect them enough to let it be.”

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Taemin said with a pout.

“No,” Minho agreed. “It isn’t.”

The mood was better after that. They ate, talked, laughed, and Minho was reminded just how lucky he was to have Taemin in his life. Things could have easily been different. He could have gone his whole life without knowing Taemin, if only one thing had been different. And especially after losing Jinki, Minho wasn’t going to take Taemin for granted. Or Kibum. None of the people who mattered the most to him.

“Isn’t that Onew’s cousin?” Taemin asked when the meal was done and they were on their way home. It was extremely hot, even though summer just getting started, and as they stopped at a long red light, Minho followed Taemin’s finger to where he was pointing.

It was Joon. Minho could see him clearly in the window of an out of the way, poorly lit tea house. It was tucked away, half down an alley, but Minho could see him without trouble. He could also see the men who were with him, all with dark suits, dangerous looks and imposing stances. They radiated the kind of danger that Minho was smart enough to steer away from.

“What is he doing?” Taemin asked, head cocked.

Glancing at the light to make sure it was still red, Minho leaned over Taemin to look closer. He’d never be able to hear what was going on, but Joon was visibly arguing with someone. He and another man with a scarred face were arguing about something with tense body language. There was also no mistaking the way the other men were crowded around them. Joon was obviously the threatened party, and whatever they were arguing about, wasn’t going in Joon’s favor.

“Is he in trouble?”

At Taemin’s question, Minho wondered just that. Joon looked more than a little uncomfortable, and maybe even scared.

What would scare a thug like Joon?

The light changed and Minho let off the break. “Whatever is going on, it isn’t our business.”

“But he could be in trouble. Those guys he’s with, they don’t look like friends. They don’t look friendly at all.”

Minho drove them away without a second look, telling Taemin, “I lost Jinki over him. I know it was my fault, but it was over him. I’m not even entertaining the idea of going over there to see what’s gong on, and you shouldn’t either. Concentrate on how Jonghyun is probably at home right now, waiting to ambush you the second you get through the door.”

Taemin slumped down in his seat. “I really hope not. Can I get a break?”

Minho snorted. “If I can’t get one, I don’t think you can get one, either.”

Taemin made a face. “Figures.”

As much as Minho never wanted to see Joon again, or even share the same air as him, seeing him had rattled Minho. More than that, it had sparked his anxiety over Jinki’s well being. Joon was a thug. He was a dangerous thug, and he was associating with people who were seemingly even more dangerous than he was. How was Jinki not going to be linked to Joon and whatever he was doing?”

“Where are you going?” Kibum asked with a yawn less than twelve hours later. He was up late going over some of their finances in a dark corner of the office, doing the menial task that Minho tried to avoid. “Don’t try to pretend like you suddenly have a life.”

“No,” Minho said, partly hidden in the shadows lining the stairs to their apartment above. “But I do have a conscience.”

“Huh?” Kibum asked.

Minho took a step forward. “I saw Joon today. Taemin and I saw him. He’s mixed up in something. He’s dealing with dangerous people, and he might be bringing that danger home to Jinki.”

“Minho,” Kibum breathed out. “Don’t go down this road.”

“I have to go check,” Minho said.

“You have to not do your best imitation of a stalker.”

Minho shrugged. “I won’t be able to sleep.” It was too quiet upstairs, with Taemin spending the night at Jonghyun’s and Kibum working downstairs.

“So you’re just going to drive out there and watch his apartment, reassure yourself that he’s okay, and then come back?”

“Yes?”

Kibum rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I’m going to tell you again. Don’t go down this road.”

“I have to.”

With a groan Kibum reached into his pocket and pulled out their car key. “I guess you’ll be needing this, then.”

There would have been no getting around letting Kibum know. Minho had known that as he’d descended the stairs towards Kibum. Kibum had been the last one to the drive the car, picking their dinner up from a local favorite. Minho would have had to tell him.

“Just for tonight,” Minho promised. “To ease my conscience.”

Kibum tossed the key at Minho and remarked, “You never do anything easy, Minho.”

But it worked. Sitting parked in front of Jinki’s apartment building, watching for signs of danger, actually calmed his stomach. Even as he blinked sleepily at the rising sun hours later, he felt better. He also knew it couldn’t just be a one time thing. Not as long as Joon was in town.

One night turned into two, and then two into three, and Kibum stopped making comments on the nighttime excursions.

But Minho could feel the long days and longer nights taking their toll on him. He continued to follow through with Leo’s case when the sun was up, pushing through hours of footage, becoming more and more disturbed as he watched how easy it was for one person to stalk another. And at night he sacrificed his rest and relaxation to keep Jinki safe.

He just hadn’t expected to fall asleep the fourth night. He’d been feeling ill all day long, his nose running, a headache pounding at the back of his head, and his joints aching. Everything seemed to be catching up on him, and without a nap that day, falling asleep was probably inevitable.

“Minho.” A soft knock to the car window started Minho awake, and he blinked up blearily at Jinki’s expressionless face.

“Jinki,” Minho eased out, sneezing suddenly, reaching for a nearby tissue.

“Go home,” Jinki said quietly. “You’re sick. Stop sitting out in front of my house all night long. Get some rest.”

“You knew I was out here?” Minho thought he’d done a fairly good job hiding his car.

“Key called me yesterday. He said he thought you were coming down with a cold, but he didn’t know how to make you stop.”

Determined, and sitting up straighter, Minho said, “I know you hate me right now, and you hate hearing about this, but I think your cousin is a bad person. I think he does bad things, and he’ll bring bad things down on you. I don’t care if we’re not … if we’re broken up. I am still in love with you, and I will still do my best to keep you safe. If that means sitting out here, watching for danger every night, then it’s what I’m going to do.”

With a heartbreaking look, Jinki said, “I don’t hate you.”

“I’m not bothering you,” Minho said, voice nasally. “I’m not on your property. Aside from now, I’m not talking to you, and I am legally allowed to be out here.”

“I know,” Jinki said. “But I’m not in any danger.”

“I think otherwise. And I’m going to be out here until your cousin goes back to China.” Minho paused to blow his nose, his head spinning a little. “I can’t sleep, Jinki. I lay in bed and I can’t sleep I’m so worried. Just please, let me do this. I’m not hurting anyone.”

“You’re hurting yourself, and that hurts me.”

“Jinki.”

Jinki took a step back. “If you love me the way you say you do, just go home, Minho. Go home and rest and … don’t come back tonight. Or tomorrow.”

Minho looked away, his eyes burning with unshed tears. “You’re asking me to go against my gut feeling.”

“No. I’m asking you to trust me.”

Minho turned the car on, hands gripping the wheel. Trust. Jinki wanted trust. “Call me,” he said, voice rough. “If you even smell trouble, you call me. Or call Jonghyun, If you don’t want to call me. Just call someone.”

“I will.” Jinki took another step backwards, his arms crossing over his chest. “So go home and go to bed.”

Minho all but fell into bed when he made it there. He was wheezing a bit from the climb, exhausted and desperate to sleep, and he could confidently say he was ill. It was one of the worst times he could have gotten sick, in his opinion.

“How do you feel?” Taemin asked as he sat on the edge of Minho’s bed.

“Like I’m sick,” Minho said snappishly.

“You’re cranky when you’re sick.”

“No,” Kibum said from the doorway, “he’s always cranky.”

For the next day Minho slept. He took the medicine Kibum bought for him, let Taemin fuss over his temperature, and fell away from the real world with its real problems.

Maybe getting sick wasn’t so bad, Minho decided, when it could be used to cover up a broken heart.

“You should stay.”

Those were the words Minho woke up to. He’d rolled over in his sleep, cocooned in his blankets despite the heat, shivering in his illness with his face nearly smashed into the wall his bed was pressed against.

“No. It’s better if he didn’t know.”

Keeping his eyes closed, Minho recognized Jinki’s voice. It was Jinki who was in the room, and probably Jinki’s weight pressing down on the mattress next to him, and likely even Jinki’s hand rubbing across his back.

“Then why did you even bother to come?” Kibum asked, sounding defensive and protective in a way that made Minho want to wrap him up in a hug. “You can’t just push him away when he’s fine and then come back when he’s feeling sick. You’ll send him mixed signals. You’ll give him hope.”

The weight from the bed lifted and the hand at Minho’s back fell away. “That’s why I want to go before he wakes up. I don’t want him to know I was here. I just … I had to make sure he was okay.”

“You still care about him.”

“Of course I do,” Jinki said. “I … just because we broke up, doesn’t mean my feelings for him went away.”

“He loves you. He loves you more than I’ve seen him love anyone else.”

Jinki was quiet, but Minho wasn’t sure what he would have wanted to hear anyway.

Finally, Jinki asked, “Can you try and keep him away from my place? He needs to make a clean break, and despite the villain he seems to think my cousin is, I’m not a damsel in distress. If Minho and I are going to have any hope of reconciliation down the road, we need to be apart right now.”

Kibum gave a disgruntled sound. “Come on. I’ll walk you downstairs. I don’t want to risk waking Minho up.”

Suddenly Minho could feel someone hovering over him, and then a sweet kiss was being pressed to the top of his head. It almost jarred Minho into giving himself away. To be kissed by Jinki again … even if it was chaste …

Minho heard Jinki promise quietly, “Thank you for letting me come see him. I won’t do it again.”

The truth was, after he was over the initial hump of being sick, Minho felt even better than before. He’d slept the better part of two days away, and having Jinki with him for even a second had been a boost to his morale. He was ready to throw himself back into his work, and concentrate on himself a little more. He felt revitalized, rejuvenated, and just better. He felt much better.

He was ready to move on Song shortly after that.

“How are you going to handle it?” Kibum asked, watching Minho adjust his tie in the mirror. “Just waltz in there and talk your way into getting a confession out of him?”

“Obviously I’m not going to tell him who I am or what I’m there for,” Minho said. “As far as Song is going to be concerned, I’m a recent hire who’s team building with everyone else. I’m going to hope he’s got an ego on him, like I assume he does. If I can get him talking, he may slip up. I’ll just have to feel the situation out.”

“Do you want me to go as backup?” Kibum asked, already on his feet. “You told me Song is dangerous. He’s as big as you are, probably has fifteen or twenty pounds of muscle on you, and you said he’s been involved in martial arts for years. If he feels threatened by you, you could be in trouble.”

“At his place of work? Unlikely. And I won’t be going anywhere with him alone. I’ll be fine, Kibum. I’ll be safe. Stop worrying.”

“I worry more about you than you’d think, Minho.”

Minho pocketed his car keys and arched an eyebrow. “The sentiment is returned.”

Blending in at Song’s place of work was almost ridiculously easy, almost like child’s play, and even if Minho hadn’t know what his target looked like, he would have been able to pick him out regardless.

Just as Minho had predicted, Song was antisocial to a somewhat severe degree, lurking away from large groups of people. But once Minho made him feel comfortable, he opened right up.

Squashing the bad association, Minho told Song, “I just went through a bad breakup. I’m hoping starting work here will be the distraction I need.” Minho took a long drink from his cup in hand and made sure he and Song were as distant from the others in the room as possible. “What about you? Significant other?”

Song, with his sturdy build and impossible presence, told Minho, “I have a boyfriend.”

Minho feigned interest. “How long have you been together?”

Song was a piece of work. He was delusional and probably a raging sociopath. Minho could barely mask his distress as he listened to Song describe Leo, manufacture memories, and create a relationship out of nothing. The worst part was Minho truly thought that Song believed the words he was speaking.

“I hope you’ll let me treat you and Leo to dinner one of these nights,” Minho said. “As a thank you for you making me feel so welcome.”

Song’s mouth curled upwards in a smirk as he told Minho firmly, “When I find him, I’ll be the first to let you know, Choi.”

“Find him?” Minho echoed back. And then his heart was racing in his chest as he realized Song had said his name.

Song’s voice dropped and he met Minho’s gaze for only the second time that night. “Did you think I was unaware who you are?”

Minho tried not to let it show on his face. “Who I am?”

“I notice everything,” Song said, eyes narrowing into slits. “I especially notice when people are following me. And when they’re trying to keep what’s mine from me.”

Calmly, Minho set his drink down and moved into Song’s personal space, telling him, “I’ve been on this case for a while now, Song Yong Sook. I know that you’re a narcissistic stalker with delusions of what a relationship actually entails. Let me inform you, a relationship takes two willing parties. Not one.”

“And a relationship between six people is considered acceptable?”

Minho said, “I don’t pretend to understand how it works with them, but I know they’re all consensual within it. And they haven’t attacked each other at any point.”

Minho could see Song tense, barely holding back his anger.

“Oh, yes,” Minho told him, his heart thumping nervously in his chest. “I’ve watched you follow Leo around. I have all the video footage I could want. And it might have taken a while to find some of the incriminating proof that I eventually did, which I chalk up to you knowing exactly where the CCTV camera are around the city, but the important thing is that I saw what you were trying to hide. I’ve seen you assault Leo, grab him and push him, and I have no doubt that he disappeared to get away from you.”

“We’re in a relationship!” Song said. “He wants me. He’s just too afraid of those people. He can’t get away from them. He left because he wants me to find him, and then it’ll just be the two of us.”

A girl was nearby, refilling her drink cup and Minho held back his response, refusing to look away from Song until she was gone.

“I wonder how it must have made you feel,” Minho said, digging in, “to know that for so many years you followed Leo around like a little puppy, and he never once noticed you. While he was busy dating other people, and making friends, none of them were you. He never even saw you, even though you were there the whole time.”

Song put his cup down roughly on the nearby surface, nearly drawing attention to himself. “He had to pretend,” Song argued. “He knew I was there. I’d been in all his classes, all his clubs, all his activities. He knew.”

“Nope.” Minho shook his head. “He didn’t. Not until you had to make him notice you, and then he still didn’t want anything to do with you. He never wanted you.”

“He did,” Song seethed. “I just had to make him realize it. I had to.”

Minho asked, “By sending him erted notes? By threatening the people he loves? By hurting him?”

“I didn’t … he …”

“On the day he disappeared,” Minho pressured, “I have video of you following him from his apartment in the morning, to the coffee shop he got breakfast in, and then to the college where he assisted in coaching the soccer team. Then he got on the train to go home, and you got on with him. That’s when the camera loses you both, but surprise, it picks the two of you up again a few minutes later near your house. Did he see you and then confront you? Did you argue? How’d he end up that far from his home?”

“We didn’t fight,” Song denied.

“I can’t prove that you were together at your house,” Minho confessed. “There’s no video of that. But I can prove that Leo was perfectly healthy when he disappeared from camera, with you manhandling him minutes before. And when he appeared again, less than half an hour later, he looked roughed up, he was walking with some difficulty, and it was the last anyone saw of him. I think that’s enough.”

Song leaned in so fast that Minho jerked back, his chest constricting painfully as Song said, “I didn’t give him anything he didn’t want. He was practically begging for it. He wanted it, the .”

Was Song … was Song implying what Minho desperately hoped he wasn’t?

“If you try to go to the police I’ll sue you for slander,” Song swore. “You can’t prove anything. You have nothing.”

Minho took a deep breath, wishing for just a second that they weren’t alone. Minho wasn’t excessively violent, but the pieces were so close to fitting completely together, and the final picture was sickening Minho to the point of physical aggression.

Forced to admit it, Minho said, “You’re right, I can’t prove that you assaulted Leo. Everything is lacking context and it’s all circumstantial. But I am going to find Leo. I promise you that. I’m going to find him long before you do, and when I bring him back, the first stop we’re going to make is the police department where my very good friend, a detective there, is going to take his statement.”

“You don’t know where he is,” Song ground out, his features twisted into something dark.

“No. But I am going to find him. I promise you that. I’ll find him ages before you. And I’ll help protect him from you.” Minho looked down at Song’s fists, at how they were trembling and so tight the fingers were turning white. “I bet you really want to hit me right now.”

“You have no idea.”

“Go ahead.” Minho shrugged. “I’d love to see you explain this to your coworkers. And your boss. That’s him in the corner over there, talking with his supervisor, right?”

Song settled for telling Minho, “You’re confident you’ll find him before I will, but if I were you, I’d be a little more realistic.”

Minho slid his hands into his pockets. “Do you want to know why I’m going to find Leo before you?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “I swear to you, I’ll find him first because I want to make sure he’s safe, and I’ll be damned if I let someone like you hurt him again. Because there are five people who would give up anything and everything to see Leo safely returned. And because I made a promise to someone who means a lot to me, and she is one scary girl, so not following through isn’t really an option.”

At that Minho heel, still feeling terrified from the encounter, but also a little proud of himself. He managed to hold onto his composure until he was safely in his car, and then he couldn’t control the shaking in his body from the adrenaline racing through him.

Then he just felt ill. It was different from when he’d been sick earlier. This feeling of nausea came directly from fully comprehending what Song had implied he’d done to Leo. It was enough to have Minho popping the door to his car open a second later, and heaving his stomach out onto the ground below. The idea that Song had ually assaulted Leo was … at the very least it made perfect sense as to why Leo had skipped town without so much as a word to the people he loved.

Choking in some air Minho replayed his own words to Song. He’d meant it when he’d vowed to find Leo first. And now, knowing the consequences for failing, there was no other choice but to make his words a truth. He couldn’t afford any other outcome.

Steading himself, Minho slotted his key into the ignition and took a deep breath. His phone rang sharply next to him, perched on the edge of the passenger seat. With shaking hands he reached for it, reading Jonghyun’s name on the front display.

“Yes?” he asked.

He was speeding to the hospital thirty seconds later.