Sometimes, in the dark solitude -- in the dark confines -- of the cage, Xiumin still doubted everything. And the everything was really only one question: why me?

He, who trembled in hatred and fear at the mere thought of the Emperor; he, who had a golden collar, a physical manifestation of how pathetic he was; he, who couldn't even remember his own name -- what worth could he possibly be to the Siren Prince? What had he done to deserve the torture and the love?

Nothing.

He had done nothing. He had merely been there, there for the Sirens to take.

And he knew that Sirens were cunning and manipulative and could not be trusted. And yet he still trusted Luhan with his heart, mind and soul.

It didn't matter though. Even if it did, it was too late. He had promised to do whatever he could to help Luhan with the plan . . . Which brought up another question that always nagged in his mind. Why did Luhan always refuse to tell him anything? Xiumin had promised to do whatever needed, but he had no clue what that “whatever” entailed.

It doesn't matter, he told himself, over and over. If he couldn't trust Luhan, who could he trust?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fever dreams were so weird. Kyungsoo couldn't tell if he was awake or dreaming. His world zoomed in and out, in and out of focus, spiraling and spinning and he was pretty sure that Junmyeon was doing non-stop body rolls.

"Stop dancing," he tried to say, but it came out as, "Hngg . . ."

Junmyeon sat down. "Soo, I can't believe you got sick from the rain. That's so cliche."

His voice sounded so far away. "Stop dancing," Kyungsoo mumbled.

The boy made a face and brought a hand to the other's forehead. "You're burning!"

"I'm burning!" Kyungsoo echoed. "Put me out!"

Junmyeon's face twisted in concern like putty. "Uh . . . I'll go get a cool towel or something."

He got up to leave, but the other quickly grabbed onto his hand. "There are mermaids," he whispered in awe.

Junmyeon glanced around. "You're scaring me. Please go to sleep."

"But I'm burning and they'll eat me . . ." Kyungsoo protested even as his eyelids became heavy and fluttered shut.

The room was so dark and Junmyeon was radiating light, like the sun. Then he walked away and it was a sunset. There were oranges and reds and purples bleeding in the sky. And then it grew darker and night fell. A mermaid swam up to him and smiled. Her teeth were sharp things, filed to a point, made out of gold and something green. Emerald? Jade? Seaweed?

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, long hair sweeping against his face. They were in a garden and she began whispering in his ear.

"Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn?" she asked. "You can see it rising, like smoke from an unseen fire, a line of fire just below the horizon, brushfire or a burning city."

"We're burning like a tea kettle. All the water's evaporating," he told her.

"And we fall in love. We believe in this downward motion; so lovely like flying and yet at the same time so dire, so extreme, so unlikely."

She gave him a kiss, the soul out of him and disappeared like foam. "Baby, don't cry," he said to the empty space. He sobbed and dissolved into foam.

~ ~ ~

While Kyungsoo slept, probably dreaming about man-eating mermaids or whatever, Jongin sat by his side. His hand was still being held tightly and all he could do was glance around the room. But there wasn't much to see. Plain white walls, a dresser, a cabinet, a small table with books neatly stacked on it, the bed Kyungsoo was sleeping in and the chair he was sitting in.

He strained his neck to see more clearly the little notebook placed in the middle of the table. "You have a diary?" he asked out loud. Unable to stop his curiosity, he gently removed Kyungsoo's fingers from his and walked over. Closer now, he could see a stack of DVDs as well. "?" he wondered, remembering Jaejoong's words. But of course he was disappointed. Turning the titles to him, he was met with a bunch of horror and gory movies, with some tennis anime thrown in between. "What the does he even do in his free time?"

Behind the questionable movies were a line of books. Glancing back to see if Kyungsoo was still passed out (he was) and suddenly filled with weird paranoia, he carefully pushed the DVDs to the side. "Law Enforcement," he read. "Principles of Criminology. Effective Police Supervision. Studies in the Sociology of Deviance." A small manila folder peeked out from the side and he moved to take a look.

"What are you doing?"

He spun around, as if caught committing murder. "Looking through your stuff because you were talking about mermaids eating you," Junmyeon replied truthfully. Kyungsoo groaned, feeling his own forehead as Junmyeon returned to his seat. "Are you studying to be a police? Or something?"

"Was I really talking about mermaids?" Kyungsoo asked instead.

"Yes and it was weird, but answer my question," the other said, pouting.

"I got interested after the recent news."

"Oh," Junmyeon said. "Same, actually. We're so similar!"

"You're giving me a headache."

"We should watch the Little Mermaid!"

"No. Give me medicine and go away."

~ ~ ~

Sehun's phone vibrated against his face, forcing him from his light slumber. He groaned and flipped the thing over. He squinted his eyes at the caller ID, blinding him with the flashing "Taozi." He gave the phone a lazy swipe and nudged it to his ear.

" . . . hun."

He strained to hear Zitao's weak voice, but there was nothing more. "Zitao?" he asked, suddenly awake. "Are you-"

There was a crash on the other side of the phone and the line went dead.

"Huang Zitao?" he shouted, scrambling out of bed. He tripped over his jeans in his hurry and ran out the room without further thought.

Sehun pounded on the door, waited -- didn't want to wait. There was no sound in the apartment. He wasn't even sure if anyone was there. Zitao could have been dying in a parking lot and Sehun wouldn't know.

After pounding once more, he tried the doorknob and it turned easily. The door opened and he entered the darkness.

"Zitao?" he whispered, scared as he fumbled with the light switch. He thought he heard a groan before the lights came to life, revealing a trail of blood before him, leading to a lump on the floor, phone forgotten nearby. "Oh my god, Zitao!" he cried.

The lump shifted. "Sehun."

The younger rushed towards Zitao. There was so much blood oozing from . . . "You got shot?! Oh my god we need to go to the hospital. We need to-"

"Calm down," Zitao managed and Sehun stopped short. "I can't go anywhere. Can you . . . help?"

Sehun gulped. "I- I-" He knew what to do -- everyone got shot at least once in their life -- but this was Zitao! If he messed up, if he did something wrong-

Zitao grasped Sehun's hand and squeezed it reassuringly with the little strength he had left. "There's a knife somewhere in the kitchen."

Sehun tried to walk normally and keep steady as he looked for a knife that could work. None of them seemed safe enough and he chose one blindly. "I- uh, need to disinfect this?" he said, back at Zitao's side.

"Lighter. Back pocket."

As he reached over and felt around Zitao's pocket, Sehun couldn't help noticing their closeness. They were so close it was almost intimate, but everything was wrong. Zitao was only in a thin shirt -- leather jacket forgotten somewhere -- but the fabric was stuck to the wound. Sehun had to cut it away carefully, hands trembling, before revealing the ruined skin. He wanted to throw up. Blood and wounds were okay. But blood and wounds on Zitao? It was too much. He wanted to cry.

"Hurry up, or else I'm really going to die." The strength in that weak voice brought Sehun back. He looked into the other's eyes. "Please?" Zitao added with a small smile.

"Being your boyfriend takes so much work," Sehun finally said.

Both were silent during the process -- the long, painful process -- but finally Sehun was done and hopefully Zitao would be okay. But then he grabbed at the bloody knife, fingers wrapping around the handle.

"W-What are you doing?" Sehun asked, but he already knew.

"I killed someone. I have to . . ."

"No!" Sehun protested. "You don't have to! Stop hurting yourself." He tried to take the knife back, but it was hovering -- trembling -- over Zitao's arm.

"He'll check. I have to," the broken boy insisted.

Sehun swallowed and averted his gaze. "I'll go get bandages."

"I can totally handle this by myself," Zitao insisted, as Sehun wrapped the gauze over the wounds. "I don't need you here."

"Then why did you call me?" Sehun asked, sitting back and throwing the rag at the other.

"I- I don't know," he admitted.

"You're dumb," Sehun replied, exasperated. The adrenaline was wearing off and he felt so weary; he tried not to look at the new cuts and instead focused on Zitao's face. "Candy," he called, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Your dad is a dumb ."

Zitao quickly shushed him. "She's sleeping, you ."

Sehun rolled his eyes. "I guess no or cuddling until your wound is healed then."

"That sounds like more punishment for you than for me," Zitao couldn't help saying. He chuckled at the other's expression, but was cut short by a stabbing pain.

Sehun's face immediately contorted in concern. "Oh my god, stop making fun of me or else you'll never get better!"

"How can I live without making fun of you?" the injured one gasped out.

"Shut up. We're going to bed," Sehun muttered.

Zitao raised his arms in anticipation of being carried bridal-style to the bedroom. Sehun hesitated before heaving a sigh and stooping down to pick up his boyfriend.

"Goddammit you're heavy. Lose some weight and try not to get shot anymore."

~ ~ ~

"Sehun?" Zitao asked in bed; his love, his wound and his life kept sleep away from him.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to quit. The group. I don't want you to dig bullets out of me again."

"Sehun?" he asked again after a beat of silence.

"I'll quit too."

Zitao sighed. "We'll be together someday, somewhere, safe."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I wrote this a long time ago and doesn't have anything to do with what's happening in real life, but Tao really needs to stop getting hurt. If he needs to take a really long break or leave Exo to be healthy, I hope he would. We'll all be sad, but his health and safety first!