Happy Halloween! I've had a number of these scenes written in my head for years. It feels good to finally have them written out. If this chapter seems short, it's because the epilogue scenes were meant to go here, but instead I've added another chapter for them and they'll be posted within the next day or two. Be aware, there is a considerable amount of Christian dogma referenced here. If you've seen the Conjuring or literally any other exorcism movie, it's nothing new.

The drive back is tense. Lucky that Leeteuk’s family lives well outside of town, because the roads are nearly empty. Unlucky because they’re also deepest dark, even the moonlight blotted out by trees, and the road up to the house curvy and unevenly paved.

Hyukjae slams on the brakes a little too hard when he finally pulls up, gravel flying. Donghae’s tense grip on the edge of his seat loosens and he’s out of the car before Hyukjae can even put it into park. He should follow. He should — he should —

“Wait! Donghae, wait.”

Hyukjae wrenches the car door shut behind him as Donghae turns, his brows are drawn together in confusion. He’s backlit by the light diffused through the hanji windows, defined edges and shadowed features.

The front door opens and Hyukjae pauses mid stride. Donghae turns to look at Kyuhyun, whose relief is written all over his face.

“You’re back,” Kyu says, at the same time as Donghae asks, “Where is Leeteuk?”

“He’s stable. Holy water and some passages Siwon read, I don’t know, he and Heechul got him tied down. We still can’t find Ryeowook.”

“And the others?” Hyukjae asks. Donghae has turned grim faced towards the house, his body gone very still.

“They’re okay, scared to hell but Kangin is keeping them out of the way. They’ve already seen too much. Leeteuk was not himself.”

“Violent?”

“Violent, angry. He ing lost it.”

“Ryeowook is alright,” Donghae interrupts.

“He is?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. But everyone is accounted for. His energy is still in the house.”

Hyukjae sags a little with relief, letting out a slow breath. There’s a tremor still running through his body from the panicked drive, but they’ve got a minute to recollect. Still — “Kyu, go on ahead. We’ll be right there.”

Kyuhyun disappears into the house, leaving just the window glow in the darkenss to swallow Hyukjae and Donghae in a dim halo.

“Donghae,” Hyukjae starts, taking quick steps towards him and catching his wrist. “Listen. Why don’t you look for Ryeowook, and I’ll help Siwon with the exorcism, okay?”

His voice is shaking. Donghae’s shoulders tense. “What?”

“O—or just stay out here and we can take care of it, you’re tired and this will be a lot —”

“Hyukjae. No.”

The world around them pauses. In the distance, lightning illuminates dark clouds. Donghae’s expression is calm, but Hyukjae’s heart is beating too fast in his chest.

“Please. Just this once, Siwon and I can handle it. What happened last time… if it happens again, I don’t know. I can’t do it again. I don’t want you to go through that again. Donghae, please.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Hyukjae stares at him. His Donghae. Sometimes he wishes he could see the way he does. Wants to know if Donghae’s aura shines for him the way Donghae describes Hyukjae’s. He’s sure it must. He wants to scream and beg and make him stay safe in the car. He wants to be on the road again, back to their home and their daughter.

But Donghae says, “I want to help Leeteuk,” and Hyukjae is struck dumb.

“I know. I know. But I’m scared.”

Donghae’s wrist twists loose in his grip and he raises his palm to Hyukjae’s cheek. “Lee Hyukjae. Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I remember.” How could I forget? Lee Donghae knocking on his dorm room door, walking into his life and changing it forever.

“There’s something about that day I’ve never told you.” His gaze loses focus, and for a minute he is far away. Distant. Thunder rumbles overhead, and then Donghae’s back with him in the here and now, seeing Hyukjae, eyes softening in a look that Hyukjae still wonders if he’ll ever deserve.

“You thought I was weird,” Donghae says warmly.

“I didn’t!”

“You did. I almost left. I was going to leave and I was going to try to avoid you around campus.” He hadn’t told Hyukjae that. That day, Donghae had walked out the door for only a minute, then come barging back in to tell Hyukjae that he was clairvoyant, jaw set determinedly. “The reason I came back is because I had a vision. I saw you, but not as you were then. Not as you are now, even. But much later. I was there with you, and we weren’t young at all. We were old, wrinkles and all. I didn’t know exactly what that meant for us—that one day I would get to call you my husband.”

“Donghae,” Hyukjae says quietly. He feels a stray raindrop. He sees one land on Donghae’s arm, still outstretched to hold Hyukjae’s face, his hand so warm. Donghae’s thumb sweeps gently over his cheekbone.

“I just knew that it meant you were important, and that we’d be together for a long, long time. I’ve never had another vision like that. I’m sorry I never told you, but I didn’t want you to think I’d only stayed by your side because of what I saw. I just wondered, and hoped, that it meant you’d stay. And now that we’re here and there’s a beautiful family inside that house needing our help, I know it means something else, too.”

Raindrops begin to come faster now, the crack of thunder overhead warning them inside, but Hyukjae feels rooted to the earth. A held breath, both afraid of and wanting of whatever Donghae is about to say.

“God brought us together for a reason, Lee Hyukjae, and I think this is it.”

The storm breaks.

Donghae’s hand drops from Hyukjae’s face to clutch at his sleeve instead, tugging him forward. They crowd up together under the overhang of the front door, wind now sweeping around the yard and causing the trees to sway.

“Was it true?” Hyukjae half shouts above the downpour. “The vision? Or was it just a possibility?”

“I don’t know. But I believe in us. Let’s do this.”

Donghae pulls the door open and tugs Hyukjae inside. The sound of the storm is muffled in the entryway. Beside him, Donghae stiffens, expression again closing off as he uses the rest of his senses to gauge the activity of the household. Hyukjae presses their palms together and leads him step by step towards the hallway. God brought us together for a reason is ringing in his head. Divine intervention or not, fate or not, he’s just glad Donghae is in his life.

Kangin rushes out of the kitchen as they approach. “Oh, thank , you’re back.” Over his shoulder Hyukjae can see the younger kids sitting at the table, looking tense. Shindong has an arm slung across Kibum’s shoulders, the both of them pale—faced and wide—eyed.

“He just snapped,” Kangin hisses, low. They all turn from the kitchen to look across the hall and into the common room, where Leeteuk sits slumped against a chair, ankles tied to the legs and wrists behind his back, his chin tipped forward into his chest. Siwon paces the room, the beads of his rosary swaying back and forth as he goes. Kyuhyun is standing near the camera’s tripod, saying something quietly to Sungmin’s tear—streaked face.

Kangin continues. “Leeteuk looked so tired after you left, I was trying to convince him to get some sleep but he refused. He grabbed Kibum and started talking about how nobody was allowed to leave—it wasn’t him. It didn’t even sound like him anymore. Siwon pretty much doused him in holy water so I could get Kibummie out of harm’s way but it took three of us to wrestle him into the chair. No way would Teukie be that strong. No way. We wouldn’t have managed to get him tied down if he hadn’t just… stopped, suddenly. Like all his strings were cut.”

“Kangin, I’m so sorry,” Donghae starts. Hyukjae doesn’t think the tightness of Kangin’s voice and his curled fists are any indication of anger. He’s trying not to cry. He shakes his head at Donghae, then turns his face away.

“Don’t,” Kangin says, voice thick. “Don’t say that. Just help us.”

Heechul appears around the corner of the hallway then and stops short when he sees the three of them standing there.

“Anything?” Kangin asks.

“He must have gotten scared and run out of the house, it’s the only explanation,” Heechul says, and with a jolt, Hyukjae remembers: Ryeowook.

Donghae says, “No. He’s still here.”

“Can you find him?” Sungmin’s voice from the common room is loud, frightened.

Donghae’s hand leaves Hyukjae’s as he drifts slowly into the common room. “Yeong-Ja,” he calls. “Thank you. You’ve done so well. Thank you for keeping Ryeowook safe. I know you’re afraid too. It’s okay to be scared. But Ryeowook needs to be with his family. His family needs him too.”

“What are you saying? What is he saying, what does this mean?”

But Hyukjae has no idea. After a moment, Donghae’s shoulders sag.

“He’s here, but he’s not here. He’s somewhere in between.”

Kangin grabs Donghae’s arm, vice-like. “Lee Donghae, you better explain yourself. If my son is dead—”

“He’s alive. He’s safe.”

“What does that mean?!”

“I… I don’t know how to explain it.” Donghae turns to Hyukjae, seemingly unaware of the grip Kangin still has on his arm, and his eyes are lost. He needs him to translate, but this time Hyukjae doesn’t know what he means either. “Can you get me an EMF reader, please?”

“On it,” says Heechul, who veers off into the kitchen. Hyukjae starts after him. The other children are hovering in the kitchen doorway, Yesung slung into Kibum’s arms, his legs far too long to be held and his expression far too serious for his age. Hyukjae’s heart feels too heavy for his chest.

“Don’t worry,” he tries, distracted long enough that he startles when Heechul shoves two EMF handhelds and a K2 meter into his arms.

“I don’t remember which of these it is. Swear to me your boyfriend knows what he’s talking about.”

“My husband,” Hyukjae mumbles. He tears his gaze away from Yesung and fumbles with the instruments in his hands.

“What?”

“He’s my—nevermind. Come on.”

The narrow space of the hallway between the kitchen and common room is far too crowded with people. Hyukjae pushes Donghae gently into the common room proper and hands him the EMF reader. “What are we doing?” he says, voice low.

“Ryeowook’s energy is faint, but it’s stronger than Yeong-Ja’s. He’s there —somewhere — her safe place. Wherever she goes to escape the demon.”

“Physically?”

“Yes.”

He’s in uncharted waters. Hyukjae stares dumbly down at the EMF reader as Donghae clicks it on. The number it displays is so high, he thinks for a second that it might be broken. “Hae. This thing is useless right now.”

He glances sharply at Leeteuk. Still unresponsive.

“Mhm.” Donghae follows his gaze. “He looks knocked out, but the demon is drawing out energy. There is so much fear in this house right now.”

Hyukjae switches on the K2 meter instead. “Try this?”

Donghae nods and clears his throat. His child-speak voice returns, one that soothes even Hyukjae, who is used to the way Donghae sounds with Ara, associating it with comfort and light.

“Ryeowookie, can you hear me? This is Donghae hyung.”

One of the lights on the meter flickers weakly. Someone makes a wounded sound behind them. Sungmin, maybe.

“Is Yeong-Ja with you?”

Another flicker.

“Good. Good. Hey, I bet she’s pretty tired, right? Can you give her a message for me? Tell Yeong-Ja that it’s time to let you go now. Your family wants to see you.”

It’s quiet. The very air around them holds its breath. Then, more lights.

“Good job. Tell her she’s been very brave and smart. Aren’t you glad she was there for you? But it’s okay now. Tell her I promise to keep you safe.”

Hyukjae is so focused on the K2 meter that he almost misses the flicker of the EMF reader still held in Donghae’s hands: it displays, for three long seconds, ERROR, before it dies. The lights in the house shut off, just long enough for the buzz of electricity to ring absently in his ears, plunging them into fleeting darkness. Then they turn back on.

“East wing,” Donghae says, breathless. Sungmin takes off at a run.

For long moments, there’s no sound but the rain drumming insistently on the roof. Then Sungmin returns, face ashen, with Ryeowook held tightly in his arms.

“He was there. In his old room.”

“But… we looked there,” Kyuhyun says, bewildered. “I swear we looked there, wasn’t Heechul just in there?”

“That’s not possible. He was not in this house, how was he in his room the whole time?”

“I think this has happened before,” Sungmin says, addressing Kangin, who has rushed over to check on his son, running shaky hands through the child’s hair, “remember? That night it talked to Shindong. Ryeowookie went missing and we found him in his room.”

“Yeong-Ja was protecting him,” Donghae explains. “Clever, too. She must have used up so much of her energy that the demon can’t draw on her now.”

Yesung comes darting across the room from the kitchen then, and Sungmin lets Ryeowook wiggle out of his arms to hug him.

Hyukjae's phone buzzes in his pocket, the sound punctuated by a tiny ding! coming from Donghae's phone. He fishes it out just long enough to glance at the message notificatio when from across the room comes the screeching sound of wood on wood—the legs of the chair Leeteuk is strapped to dragging as his body jerks. His head lolls. He twists his shoulders violently, testing the rope tying his wrists together.

>Got your text, the message says. Ara fell asleep waiting for you. Chanhee is staying here with me. Be safe.<

"The child," comes a voice from Leeteuk's body. It's gritty, disgusted, nothing like the pleasant tones Hyukjae is used to. "What use for that child? She is gone now. Insolent."

The words tangle up un Hyukjae's head, where he's just been thinking about Ara, and his breath catches in fear.

"It lies. Remember that it only tells lies," Siwon's voice cuts through the tension. Hyukjae remembers that they'd been talking about Yeong-Ja.

"You again," snarls the thing in Leeteuk's body. "The lap dog."

"Hello," Siwon says brightly. He opens the small book of the Roman Rites that he’s holding and flips a few pages, nodding curtly to where Kyuhyun is standing behind the camera's tripod. "Shall we begin?"

“It’s too late,” says the demon. “This one is gone. He will take our place. And so too will the rest of you, and then you’ll know the price of your sin.”

“I don’t think we will, actually.” Siwon begins the appeal to Saint Michael. “Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos…”

Leeteuk remains impassive for much of the prayer. With his head raised, Hyukjae can see how bad he looks. Grotesque. His face is abloom with bruises like the flesh of a rotten fruit. He stares with dull eyes around the room, deep with shadow, lips dry and cracked. If he were to get close enough to touch, Hyukjae would be sure to feel his skin hot with fever. The dehydration makes his skin sallow. Hyukjae thinks, danger, and not because of the way the demon leers at him now with Leeteuk’s face, but because of the strain on Leeteuk’s body. If they can’t exorcise the demon, the possession will likely kill him. A flash of memory: Jin-Oh, eyes dull and lifeless. How Donghae had shook as he cried, we saved him.

Death isn’t the worst potential outcome.

“...qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes,” Siwon finishes. “Amen.”

“This one knows,” the demon says, in Leeteuk’s and in other voices, layered over and under. It sends a chill down Hyukjae’s spine, even as he knows that this means the prayer has frightened it. It’s addressing Donghae. “This one has Seen what awaits you. And yet he is here, instead of on his knees repenting day and night.”

Donghae only smiles. He gives Siwon a nod to continue. With the prayer finished, he begins to read out the exorcism itself.

“Exorcizámos te, ómnis immúnde spíritus, ómnis satánic potéstas, ómnis infernális adversárii, ómnis légio, ómnis congregátio et sécta diabólica...

As always, the start of the exorcism prayer begets the strongest reaction. This time is no different. Leeteuk strains against the rope and bares his teeth, shouting, trying to drown out Siwon’s words with his taunts and jeers. It’s nothing Hyukjae hasn’t seen or heard before. Until —

The rope is stronger than the chair. With a strength far beyond anything Leeteuk could have done on his own, he snaps the chairback and frees his arms. Quicker than a blink, the rest of the chair splinters apart. Leeteuk lunges.

Siwon jumps backward, quick on his feet, but Leeteuk hooks fingers into his stole and yanks. In seconds, Kangin is there and Donghae too, grappling at Leeteuk by the shoulders and elbows to yank him back; Siwon stumbles, pulled off balance, and falls backwards onto the floor. As he throws his arms back to catch himself, the book of rites clatters to the floor and slides until it’s stopped by Hyukjae’s boots.

Kangin and Donghae have managed to wrestle Leeteuk to the ground, but he thrashes and writhes, growling in a dozen pitched voices.

“....Ímperat tíbi sacraméntum Crúcis, omniúmque christiánae fídei Mysteriórum virtus. Imperat tibit excélsa Dei Génitrix Virgo Maria, quae — quae —” Siwon falters, struggling to remember the words.

“Siwon!” Donghae shouts as Leeteuk surges forward under the weight of Kangin’s body, desperate to keep him subdued.

It’s this, more than anything, that makes Hyukjae pick up the book. He could return it to Siwon and help the others, but the panic in Donghae’s voice spurs him into action without thought.

He flips through the pages furiously as Siwon rights himself, takes one look at Hyukjae, and elects to help hold down Leeteuk’s legs with his considerable strength.

Hyukjae his lips nervously once, then again; briefly he considers gulping down a bottle of holy water if only to calm down his racing heart, but then he finds his place and begins. “Quae superbíssimum cáput tuum a prímo instánti immaculátae suae conceptiónis in sua humilitáte contrívit....”

It seems to work. It’s not pretty, but Leeteuk’s strength continues to wane even as he spews phrases so garbled it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. Maybe foreign. Hyukjae continues his litany even when the rambling stops and Leeteuk begins to sob, seemingly in his own voice.

“Lies!” Siwon reminds them. Hyukjae carries on.

The sobbing turns to laughter. “Too late! It’s too late for this one!”

He raises his voice. “...Quem Chérubim et Séraphim indeféssis vócibus láudant, dicéntes: Sánctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Dóminus Déus Sábaoth.” Holy, holy, holy is the lord, the God of hosts.

He hasn’t reached the end, but Leeteuk suddenly stills. There is a long silence.

“Teuk?” Kangin tries. No answer.

Hyukjae clears his throat and casts his eyes to meet Siwon’s. Siwon nods once.

“Orémus.” Let us pray.

The next passage rolls more easily across his tongue. He’s used to the cadence of sound; he’s recited the words to himself before, worried, always worried that Donghae might relapse, that he might be in need of something Hyukjae wouldn’t be able to provide. And he’s grateful for that now, or else he’d be too distracted to hear what Donghae begins to say.

Leeteuk’s writhing has stopped, but a series of growls and whines still wring from his throat like a cacophony of the hounds of hell. Donghae speaks over them.

“Leeteuk. I know you’re in there. Listen, please listen. I’ve seen it too. I’ve felt it too. But it won’t drag you under, I promise. I promise you that it’s all lies. They want you to despair. They’re so lonely. Whatever threat of pain you might see is the only way they can describe the pain of loneliness.

They hate that we’re with you. They hate that Kagin is with you, that your children are with you. They can’t remember love and they can’t stand their own jealousy. They lie so you can feel it too, but you’re stronger than that, right? You know the way out.”

Donghae is crying now, his words thick with tears. Hyukjae doesn’t notice that he himself has stopped reading, eyes fixed on the tears threatening to spill over Donghae’s face.

“Remember what you told me? Do you remember? You said it was hard, but you weren’t alone. Remember the day Sungmin came home with you. Remember the first time you met your Kim Youngwoon. They can’t take that away from you. You can be with them again, you just have to fight.”

And then Hyukjae himself startles as, from across the room, Yesung’s voice chirps, “Appa!”

He glances sharply to the right; there Sungmin still is, crouched on his knees with his arm around Yesung’s head and hand covering the child’s eyes. Ryeowook too, just a tiny thing with his face pressed to Yesung’s shirt, Yesung’s small hands dutifully covering his little brother’s ears.

The howling noises stop. Leeteuk falls still. He’s obscured from Hyukjae’s view by Kangin leaning over him, but Kangin removes a hand from holding down his arm and gently touches Leeteuk’s face. “Jungsoo-yah?” he murmurs.

“I love you, Appa,” Sungmin says, earnest and clear.

Ryeowook jolts a bit and turns his head. “Appa?” he pipes, with all the innocence of the world.

It could be enough. It might be. Hyukjae’s not sure, so he finds his place again in the book and continues. “...Ab ómni infernálium spirítuum potestáte, láqueo, decéption et nequítia nos poténter liberáre, et incólumes custodíre dignéris.”

Leeteuk’s fingers scrabble for purchase on the floor. He moans now, anguished.

“Appa, I love you!”

“We love you!”

The chorus is from behind him. Hyukjae twists to see Heechul in the doorway, arms held out to prevent Kibum and Shindong from rushing into the room.

“Jungsoo—yah, can you hear me? Hey. Hey, it’s your Youngwoon. You’re gonna be fine. Right, because I’ve got you. Just like before, when we were afraid back then when we met. I had you. We have the kids now too. They didn’t want to give us that life, but we took it anyway. You’re not gonna let some sad demon take that away from us, and I know it. I know you’re strong. We love you so much.”

“Per Chrístum Dóminum nóstrum. Ámen. Siwon?”

Siwon sits back on his heels. This part is easy enough for him to remember. “Ab insídiis diáboli.”

“Líbera nos, Dómine.” Hyukjae responds.

“Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tíbi fácias libertáte servíre.”

Donghae replies this time as well, in unison with Hyukjae. “Te rogámus, áudi nos.”

“Ut inimícos sánctae Ecclésiae humiliáre dignéris.”

“Te rogámus, áudi nos!”

From his robes, Siwon produces one of the bottles of holy water. He uncaps it.

As soon as the water hits Leeteuk’s body, he wails. It takes the three of them to hold him down, body arching off the floor as the sound rises higher and higher; a dozen voices all at once, a hundred. It quickly becomes too much, and Hyukjae drops the book in favor of covering his ears with his hands.

Behind the camera, Kyu does the same. In front of him, even Donghae covers his ears; Kangin pulls back reluctantly, face pinched with pain.

But Hyukjae finds himself grinning. It’s not a chilling scream; it’s not a threat. It’s defeat. Whatever number of demons piggy-backing onto the malevolent spirit that had slept in this house for a hundred years all give in at once. It could be the prayer, or the holy water. Maybe. He’s sure whatever intention lies behind the words had a hand in that. But Hyukjae knows better. Leeteuk had so much worth fighting for. They can’t take that away from you.

Abruptly, the riotous sound cuts off. Silence rings in the air. Leeteuk again falls slack. Then his voice, small and wrecked, says, “Youngwoon-ah?” and Kangin sobs. He doubles over to hold him.

“Is it over?” Heechul’s shaky voice from behind them.

“It’s over,” Hyukjae confirms.

“He needs water, please,” Siwon commands.

“Got it,” Kyuhyun calls, probably eager to get a moment away from the chaos; he sets the camera down and Hyukjae can see how stiff his fingers are as he lets it tip gracelessly to the floor before he darts out of the room.

Hyukjae is already starting towards Donghae, intending to help him stand, when something stops him. There’s—something in the way. Someone. It takes long, long moments for his mind to catch up to what he’s seeing with his eyes.

Yeong-Ja. He sees only in bits and pieces as if through frosted glass: her white nightgown, her bare feet. The long, dark braid running down her back. Donghae is sitting up on his knees, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks, focused on her with ease. The girl’s lips move. Donghae nods in response. She is shimmering and fleeting to Hyukjae’s eyes, like trying to catch a hummingbird as it flits away. A hand is raised to Donghae’s cheek. He tilts his head into it and smiles. “You’ve done well,” he says, the tears sliding down his face like a cup run over. “Thank you.”

Then it’s gone. Hyukjae stands frozen, trying to process what he’s just seen.

Donghae recovers much more quickly. He casts his eyes around the room and laughs when he sees Hyukjae, jumps to his feet and collects Hyukjae in a hug. “She’s free.” He hides his joyful laugh in Hyukjae’s shoulder. “She’s gone.”

“Yeah?”

“Both of them.”

“Both?”

“Yes. Yeong-Ja. And the one who killed her. The demon used their pain, and invited in more, but we beat it. Leeteuk, oh god, he was so brave.”

Hyukjae presses a kiss to the hair on the side of his head and just breathes, overcome with relief. Kyuhyun re-enters with a glass of water; when Hyukjae looks, Leeteuk is sitting up, looking like a shadow of himself. And yet, the bruises on his face have already begun to fade.

“We should get him to a hospital,” Donghae says in his ear. “Just in case.”

The kids want to see him, but he’s fragile and exhausted. With Sungmin’s help, they manage to convince everyone to let Kangin take Leeteuk to be checked over by a doctor. Fever, they’ll say, to at least be sure his dehydration is taken care of.

“Sure you’ll be okay?” Siwon asks as Kangin bundles Leeteuk into the car. Inside, Kyuhyun and Sungmin are cleaning up the mess. Hours of fear has everyone exhausted.

“I’m sure.” Kangin claps him on the shoulder and says a heartfelt, “Thank you.” He looks at Hyukjae and Donghae where they hover in the open doorway and nods. “Thank you. Stay the night, please?”

Ara is long asleep, and anyway, Hyukjae can’t imagine driving home until tomorrow. “Of course.”

Beside him Donghae is slowly unwrapping the bandage on his hand. It falls away, revealing smooth skin. There is no sign that there was ever a crucifix shaped burn on the palm of his hand, not even a scar. “Leeteuk will be just fine,” he says. There’s a lightness in his tone, a joy, that Hyukjae suddenly realizes he hasn’t heard in years.

The three of them watch the car wind its way down the driveway. “Long day,” Siwon remarks as they enter the house again. Donghae’s laughter is bright.

—

Hyukjae wakes up to sunlight shining behind his eyelids and Donghae curled around him. He stretches comfortably as the events from last night catch up with him. Donghae is awake already, a gentle smile playing on his lips; Hyukjae frees an arm so he can run his fingers through the tangled hair over his forehead.

“Hey,” Hyukjae says, voice sleep-rough. He hasn’t slept this well in a long, long time, he doesn’t think. He wonders how long they might get away with staying in bed. “Time ‘s it?”

Donghae’s smile broadens. He shrugs. Hyukjae fumbles to find his phone, pulling away reluctantly just long enough to grab it off the bedside table. It’s just after 11 A.M. “We slept all morning.”

“Mhmm.”

“You slept all morning?”

A nod.

“All night?”

“Like a baby.” His smile is so wide now that his eyes crescent in happiness, and Hyukjae has to tip him over and kiss each one. It’s been years since Donghae has slept through the night, plagued by nightmares he could never describe; countless times Hyukjae has woken along with him, saying and doing anything to make him laugh, to chase away the spectre of visions that Jin-Oh’s demon had shown him. He hopes beyond hope that last night was a turning point for the better.

Footsteps sound distantly from down the hall, and Hyukjae jolts when he remembers. “Leeteuk? Is he back?”

The sound of gravel crunching underneath car tires is answer enough. They both scramble to dress, ignoring their hungry stomachs, to the sound of a joyful reunion happening outside. Hyukjae grabs the hand of his well-rested husband and sets off to join them.

—

Currently, Leeteuk has a lapful of children. Children much too large, maybe, to fit in one lap, but he doesn’t mind. The air is crisp and fresh after last night’s storm, the building heat and humidity from the nightmare of days prior finally clear.

If pressed, he couldn’t tell what happened. Kangin had told him repeatedly that he’s better off not remembering all the details. Where Leeteuk was, who he was, are all a haze of emotions he’s afraid to examine. There are a few details he remembers. Appa, the sound echoed again this morning when they’d returned from the hospital, the sound of his kids all rushing out to meet him, to end up here in this pile of sunlight. He looks at each of them as if it’s been years. Shindong’s happy face, always inviting a laugh, growing into a strong shoulder to lean on. Kibum’s quiet relief, responsible beyond his years. Yesung, whose emotion always shows on his face, eyes glittering with tears as he leans against Leeteuk’s side. Ryeowookie curled up in his lap, fingers hooked under the collar of his shirt.

And Sungmin, sitting on the ground in front of him with a smile bright enough to rival even the sun.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he’s reassuring them. “I love you.”

Kangin bends to gently remove Ryeowook, only to sit at Leeteuk’s side and pull their youngest into his own lap. I’ve got you, Leeteuk remembers. He leans forward to press his smile to Kangin’s—he doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling for five whole minutes. He doesn’t think he can.

The children groan. It sparks a laugh from Kangin and he swats playfully at Shindong, who has attempted to put some distance between them.

Leeteuk sits back and watches his family squabble. Movement pulls his attention to the front of the house, where Heechul and Kyuhyun have been lingering just on the edge of the circle; later, Leeteuk will have to be sure they know how much they’re appreciated.

Hyukjae and Donghae are standing there now. Leeteuk mouths a thank you when they notice him looking, and receives a nod and a grin in return. He’s still got an eye on them when Donghae turns to say something quietly; watches Hyukjae take one of Donghae’s hands in his and lift it to kiss his knuckles. Donghae laughs softly. Leeteuk looks away from their private moment.

“All right!” Heechul calls. “Who’s hungry?”

Everyone shouts at once and begin to stand in a flurry of movement around him. When Ryeowook springs free from Kangin’s lap, Kangin sets one hand on Leeteuk’s knee to keep him sitting down long enough that he can lean in and kiss him for real. Leeteuk’s comfort. His bravery, his rock. Everyone keeps telling Leeteuk how strong he’s been, but if it’s true, it’s only because of the people he’s chosen to build his life around, and who have chosen him in return.

Kangin pulls away and helps Leeteuk to stand. They follow the two youngest boys into the house, Yesung leading Ryeowook by the hand.

Around them, the late morning sun rises, and rises, and rises.

If by some miracle you have stuck by this story for the years it has taken me to write: thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. If you're a new reader, I hope you've enjoyed!

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