“Sehun, since you’re in the kitchen, can you take the trash out for hyung, please?”

“…”

“Sehun.”

“…”

“Sehun.”

“…”

“Oh Sehun, you put that cookie down and listen to me right now.”

Sehun finally paused in the archway to the kitchen as he was leaving, looking down at the already bitten and very delicious object in his hands. “What’s that, Mister Peanut Butter Double Chocolate Chip? You heard something? Hm, I didn’t hear anything. Too bad I can only speak cookie. What, you say Tao was issuing a demand? Well that doesn’t sound like the first resort of a caring guardian-”

“One, okay?” Tao sighed, sinking even further into the couch, exasperated. “You can have one cookie if you take the trash out.”

The hairs of Sehun’s bowlcut rose as he shook his head. “Mm-mm.”

“What do you mean, ‘mm-mm?’ I’m trying to negotiate with you instead of being demanding. Do you want to be five forever? Because you’re about to make that happen.”

“Nah, I don’t care about that. I want two cookies.”

“You've only been back for three days and you've already had like fifteen, plus, it’s almost bedtime; you’ll be bouncing off the walls. You can’t have two.”

“Well then you can’t have a slave.”

“A sla-“ Tao lost his breath, not sure whether to find Sehun’s comeback uncalled for or hilariously misguided. “It’s called a chore, not indentured servitude!”

“I don’t know what that is,” Sehun said, taking his second bite into the cookie. “I do know that work without cop-men-station is a crime.”

“No, it’s not, because you’re a child. Your compensation is a roof over your head and food.”

“You sound like SM,” the retort came, complete with eye-roll.

‘The brat has a point,’ the fleeting thought came, but was pushed away in the next moment. “When I was a kid-”

“You had servants," Sehun said, gaze deadpan. "You told us you had servants, and they were paid. You have literally nothing to work with, here.”

“Okay, fine, but still. Kai," he asked, turning toward the guy he knew hadn't had as fortunate of a real childhood, "did you get money or anything for doing chores when you were little?”

“Nope,” he responded without taking his eyes off the television.

“Do you think Sehun needs to get paid in cookies to do his chores?”

“Iunno.”

“Well you know who thinks Sehun does need to get paid for his work? Sehun,” the “man” himself replied, jabbing a thumb at his chest.

“What is this obsession of yours with having to get something in return for everything you do?”

Tao didn’t get a chance to hear the reply, as the loud crash followed by shouting and crying from one of the back rooms completely diverted his attention.

When he arrived at Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Sehun’s room (the last of whom was right on his heels,) it wasn’t difficult to see that Chanyeol had shoved Chen, and judging by the way he was holding the back of his head and mid-meltdown, Chen had wanged it on the edge of the desk pretty hard. Or not hard at all. It was difficult to know with a four-year-old. Nonetheless, it was a pretty shocking scene, and the way Baekhyun had put himself in to separate the two added to the drama.

“Chanyeol, what did you just do!?” Tao gasped, shoving past him to kneel down by Chen.

“I didn’t do anything!" he shrieked, ing his hands out—palms up to show they weren't red—toward his victim. "I barely touched him!”

Knowing he wouldn’t get the truth from the curly-haired kid, Tao redirected his question toward the third member of the conflict as he reached down to pull the red-faced, blubbering Chen into a sitting position. “Baekhyun, what happened.”

There was a moment of pause and Tao, who was pretending to be working on prying apart Chen’s death grip on the back of his head, looked out of the corner of his eyes to see a timid-faced Baekhyun exchanged glances with a glowering Chanyeol. “U-um, I, I don’t-“

“You do know; you were here, and you clearly saw it. Tell me what happened, tell me the truth, and- Oh my god, it’s bleeding!”

Chen winced as Tao pulled his hat down farther so the gauze wrapped around his head couldn’t be seen. “Hold on, okay?” the now older murmured softly, as he put a pair of the child-sized sunglasses and an adult-sized medical mask on Chen’s face. The overall effect was rather goofy; the mask was far too big and consumed most of his face, but anything that covered that trademark mouth would do. “I’ll come around and get you.”

Tao left the car and handed his keys to the complimentary emergency room valet before opening the passenger-side door and picking up his injured charge. He wore a pair of sunglasses and a hat as well, paired with some cheap worn-down jeans, yellowing old shoes, and a t-shirt from his predebut days. He had never tried as hard as he was in that moment to not be recognized. Fortunately, the receptionist was an older lady who looked at him and the child—who he registered as his nephew—and their sunglasses for only a half-second longer than she normally would, but otherwise seemed to have no interest in either of them. He found a quiet back corner to sit in, cursing under his breath when he realized Chen kept dozing off (likely due to it being past his bedtime, but Tao wasn’t taking any chances against brain damage) and needed to be woken up every twenty seconds. Every time he woke him, he would sit up straight in his chair, looking determined to stay awake, then slowly fade and lean until he was nuzzled up against Tao’s arm, which Tao would then shake and Chen would pop up again as if Tao's arm were coated in poison.

“Wanna tell me about what happened?” he asked after waking Chen up for the fifth time. The boy shook his head wordlessly. “Well, is this a problem you’ve been having?” Chen’s mouth twisted up thoughtfully, and he began to shake his head again, but instead chose to elaborate, unsure how to answer the question with a yes or a no. “We argued one time before, but we didn’t fight.”

“What were you arguing about?”

He stayed quiet.

“I promise I won’t tell.” He thought for a bit, staring blankly at the stack of magazines on the table across from him. A parenting magazine topped the pile. “I can’t say Chanyeol won’t get in trouble, but he’ll get in a lot more trouble if no one tells me the truth. I just want to know what he was thinking.”

“…I told him I don’t think he’s a good leader of our group. I told him that last time, too. He got angry last time, and this time, he pushed me.”

“I see. Why don’t you think he’s a good leader?”

“His plans are always dangerous, and he always wants to run away. He wanted us to run away from Manager-hyung’s house and watch a movie the other day.”

“Where does he want to go other times?”

“I don’t know. Fun places. He wanted to go to the fun center again, since we didn’t stay for long last time. He wants to go lotsa places.”

“Park Dae-Sung!” It was the second time the nurse had called the name Tao had made up for Chen, and this time he finally responded.

An MRI revealed he didn’t have a concussion or any swelling, but the cut would need stitches. If Chen had any fears about the procedure, he was too tired to express them, and with a bit of local anesthesia and a few sutures, Chen was good to go.

“It’s late, so I’ll give you a single dose of this for tonight, and a prescription you can get filled tomorrow,” the doctor said, handing Tao a tiny tube of ointment. “It’s not necessary, but it should help with the swelling and irritation; otherwise he might pick at it. Applying it every eight hours should suffice, or if you notice him messing with it you can apply some. Change the bandages twice a day, and if you see abnormal amounts of drainage or it starts to look infected, don’t hesitate to give us a call.”

“Thanks so much, doctor,” Tao said, smiling. “Ready to go–?” he asked as he turned back to look at Chen, only to realize he was fast asleep on the bed.

“Looks like it’s bedtime,” the doctor said, smiling. “Just bring this paperwork to the checkout counter when you’re ready.”

“Alright.”

He put on the sunglasses and a child-sized mask he’d managed to find while galavanting as Chen was getting the MRI, scooped up the exhausted kid, went to turn in the paperwork and strapped him into the backseat of the car once the valet brought it around. He didn’t turn on any music for fear of waking the youngster, but he woke on his own when they approached the dorm.

“Hyung…” he murmured as Tao closed his own door and opened Chen’s. “Chanyeol’s not gonna get in trouble, is he?”

“Hm… Well, he did something bad, so he’ll get in a little trouble but not as much as he would. And that’s thanks to you,” he said, poking Chen lightly in the stomach. He couldn’t see his face due to the things obscuring it, but he knew a smile had crept it way onto Chen’s face. “Come on, let’s get you into bed for real.”

The dorm was dark and quiet when they entered, and Tao couldn’t help but feel a foreboding sense of dread. “H-hello?” he whispered into the darkness. “Guys?”

No reply.

Slinking in, he the lights and immediately rushed to check on the boys’ rooms.

Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun,

Suho, tucked in by himself,

Kai, Lay,

D.O. and Xiumin cuddled up in one bed together, and Chen in his arms.

Tao, having discovered that everything was quiet because nothing was wrong, and everything was as perfect as it could be at that moment, finally exhaled.

“Will you be okay sleeping in here?” Tao whispered.

“Yeah. I’m not a baby about it like you,” Chen whispered back, smiling hard at his own joke.

Tao grinned back. “There's my Jongdae. Careful what you say, or I’ll put a second dent in your head.” With that, he laid Chen in his bed, and flicked him lightly on the forehead. “‘Nighty-night.”

“Goodnight, hyung.”